A/N: My first try at a BNHA fic! This story doesn't contain manga spoilers, so you're free to read if you've only seen the anime! I, too, have only seen the anime so just about everything in this fic is made up. (Or is it?)

Disclaimer: It is. I don't own the manga or anime or anything. Boo.

The fight ends almost as quickly as it began.

The villain crashes to the ground, only managing to take out an entire four-way intersection, streetlights and all. There's glass and metal and live wires sparking everywhere, along with Endeavor standing in the middle of an impressive crater, the villain lying unconscious beneath the pro hero's gigantic boot.

"See, Young Bakugo? No help required."

He hates that Endeavor still calls him that. He's 21 for fuck's sake. The fact that pro heroes still feel the need to treat him like a child is laughable, especially when Endeavor actually did need his help. The controlled explosions that Bakugo let off kept the villain heading in the right direction for Endeavor to messily intercept him. Bakugo lets out a scornful "tch" as he surveys the damage of the intersection, as well as the flames roaring from the nearby building that the villain initially attacked. Aizawa-sensei would have flunked the hell out of Endeavor if he was in Eraser's class. This much damage should be a crime in and of itself.

Bakugo can't help but wonder how the rest of the fight is going. This villain had comrades at other locations in the city. Two other hero agencies had already been dispatched to take care of them, but no one has radioed with a confirmed take-down yet. He heard that Uraraka was with them, following Gunhead into the fray to probably help with rescues. Bakugo hasn't seen her since yesterday, when she left his apartment for night patrol with Gunhead's agency. Her curry is still sitting on his kitchen counter, half eaten.

He watches as the police and medics rush in to intercept the villain still held captive under Endeavor's heavy boot. Bakugo's mouth sets into a hard line as he watches them cart the villain away. He should be happy, they took the villain down, but the smarmy look on Endeavor's face has Bakugo's hands clenching into fists. Endeavor is an adult, he shouldn't look so much like the cat that got the cream for taking down one villain before a rookie could. When Bakugo starts to smell nitroglycerin again he squeezes his eyes shut. He won't let his blood boil for something this stupid.

A familiar shout from down the road has him looking up. Amongst the roaring flames of the burning building and the civilians screaming, Uraraka's voice rises above the noise.

"Bakugo!"

He sees her running towards him, blood dripping in between her eyes from her own battle somewhere else in the city, but there's a grin spreading across her face that makes Bakugo's day a little less shitty just from seeing it. His shoulder is still aching from using his grenades so many times in one fight, but that doesn't stop him from holding his arms out for her as she leaps toward him. He wasn't worried about her—Uraraka's a badass who's totally capable of protecting herself and others— but it's clear from the way she wraps her arms around his middle and buries her face in his shoulder that she might have been worried about him.

Back when he was a teenager that thought would have made him irate, but now he keeps his irritation at a healthy simmer. It still grates his nerves, her concern for him. He's never liked attention like that. It always felt inherently negative to have someone worry about you, to be scared on your behalf. It's taken him a long time to realize that little wrinkle in her brow isn't because she doubts his capabilities, it's because the world is filled with countless dangers and absolutely no guarantees, especially in their line of work. She worries because she cares, and sometimes that's kinda nice.

Uraraka pulls back to look up at him. "You're fine? You're not hurt?"

His response is gruff. "It ended quickly. Endeavor was already here when I showed up."

That doesn't stop Uraraka from scanning him up and down for injuries, taking specific note of a burn on his forearm that wasn't hurting before she started poking it.

"Ochako."

She stops her prodding and looks back up suddenly.

"I'm fine. Swear."

God, she must have been really worried. Uraraka tugs on the front of his costume to pull him in for a kiss, one that says everything he knows she wants to say out loud to him but won't in front of all these people. A kiss that says I'm glad you're safe and we both survived another day and I love you. She won't embarrass him in front of all the pro heroes with sentimentality, she knows better than that, and frankly he'd prefer kissing to talking in almost all situations anyway. He holds her close as her hands cup his face, knowing that when she gets like this she sometimes activates her quirk without thinking. The first time she kissed him after a battle had left him floating a few feet off the ground with his legs bicycling clumsily as he tried to find firm footing. He's learned since then, and now as he feels himself starting to hover he keeps his body straight and pinches her arm.

"Ochako," he murmurs again against her mouth.

She only separates from him a little bit, pulling her hands from his jaw to press her fingertips together. "Sorry." His boots make contact with the ground again.

Sometimes he wonders what it might be like, to say those things out loud to her. To let her know how happy she makes him, how her presence fills him with a sense of serenity he never thought he'd be capable of feeling. After all these years of knowing her it should be easy to look into her eyes and tell her. But the rough timbre of his voice, the scowl etched into his expression, the way his palms constantly smell of explosive chemicals make him think better of it. It wouldn't come out right, coming from him.

But it's that look she gives him, that look she's giving him right now, the one that's filled with warmth and safety and even underneath all that, happiness, that makes him reconsider letting her know how he feels.

She's letting go now, looking off at the wreckage around them and the civilians that still need to be accounted for, and his fingers are grasping onto her hand before she can turn away.

"Hey," he says, low. "I just—I want you to know—"

She looks up at him patiently. He wants to, he wants to—

"I'm just—I'm glad you're safe, too."

Coward.

Even so, she lets out a breathless little laugh like he really did just confess his undying love for her, looking a little shocked but mostly pleased. "Thanks, Katsuki."

"Hey LOVEBIRDS!"

The booming voice of Endeavor has Bakugo separating from Uraraka, turning back to the scene with a scowl.

"Save the public displays of affection for when you're alone." Bakugo doesn't have the time or energy to explain how stupid of a statement that is. He let's go of Uraraka and shoulders past Endeavor, not waiting for more instruction that the pro hero would surely try to dole out to his dutiful apprentices. The flames from Bakugo and Endeavor's attacks are finally starting to die down, leaving nothing but a smoldering glow in their wake that can be easily put out by someone with a water quirk.

Bakugo heads toward the rubble he knows he has to clear away, only pausing briefly to look back at Uraraka, who's still talking to Endeavor. Something about her—the determination in her eyes, the blood and soot smeared across her face that she still hasn't wiped away, the way the light of the leftover flames dances across her skin—hardens his resolve. He's going to find a way to tell her. And soon.

He loves her so damn much.

But until then, he has a mangled street light to dispose of, and sweaty palms from holding his girlfriend's hand to help him with just that.