He snarls right back, eyes glittering with fierce joy. The punch--his right, of course--is perfectly aimed and too swift. All Midoriya can do is tense his muscles as hard as he can to shield himself. He can take a punch harder than that and still move, but a high grunt still escapes him. None of this can wipe the grin that curls across his face. He feels a hand push on his shoulder, like he's just a stupid stepladder. He grabs Bakugou's forearm. He's about to--
The reality of that firm knocking comes crashing into him harder than Bakugou's fist. It's more sobering than a bucket of water. At least Bakugou didn't add peeing with the door open to his list of crimes, because, yes, he is not a complete animal. Midoriya's eyes lose all their bite, widening in simple surprise. He completely lets him go. He's nervous now. How does he explain being jumbled up with and fighting this guy in a bathtub? Really, he's always had a hard time at school putting into words why he and Bakugou are so weird.
His eyes (watery as he struggles to regain proper use of his diaphragm) haven't left his opponent either. He has to watch an entire series of transformative expressions on his rival's face. His own mouth drops open in disturbed shock, pink blotching his cheeks. Oh no--the sounds they were making did seem like that. He didn't even think of that. It's not what it looks like! Please don't get the wrong idea!
He's reached the same conclusion about having to leave the bathroom together. He can't think of any other way this could look. This person, this stranger, is going to have absolutely the wrong idea here. There's no coming back from this.
Bakugou shouldn't have muttered. He shouldn't have set his sights on a new target and released his previous one. All thoughts of embarrassment scatter from Midoriya's head to the four winds. His eyelids fly open, ferally wide. He isn't even aware of moving. Sometimes he moves without thinking, for more important life-saving reasons. His legs spring forward as he slams straight towards Bakuou's middle, arms trying to close around him in a tight grip for a heavy tackle.
"You're not using that on anyone at Paul-kun's party!!"
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The reality of that firm knocking comes crashing into him harder than Bakugou's fist. It's more sobering than a bucket of water. At least Bakugou didn't add peeing with the door open to his list of crimes, because, yes, he is not a complete animal. Midoriya's eyes lose all their bite, widening in simple surprise. He completely lets him go. He's nervous now. How does he explain being jumbled up with and fighting this guy in a bathtub? Really, he's always had a hard time at school putting into words why he and Bakugou are so weird.
His eyes (watery as he struggles to regain proper use of his diaphragm) haven't left his opponent either. He has to watch an entire series of transformative expressions on his rival's face. His own mouth drops open in disturbed shock, pink blotching his cheeks. Oh no--the sounds they were making did seem like that. He didn't even think of that. It's not what it looks like! Please don't get the wrong idea!
He's reached the same conclusion about having to leave the bathroom together. He can't think of any other way this could look. This person, this stranger, is going to have absolutely the wrong idea here. There's no coming back from this.
Bakugou shouldn't have muttered. He shouldn't have set his sights on a new target and released his previous one. All thoughts of embarrassment scatter from Midoriya's head to the four winds. His eyelids fly open, ferally wide. He isn't even aware of moving. Sometimes he moves without thinking, for more important life-saving reasons. His legs spring forward as he slams straight towards Bakuou's middle, arms trying to close around him in a tight grip for a heavy tackle.
"You're not using that on anyone at Paul-kun's party!!"
His shirt lies forgotten in the tub.