The air in the Heights Alliance common room was thick with the scent of burnt sugar and cheap cocoa powder. It was well past midnight, and while the rest of Class 1-A was fast asleep, Guest was stuck attempting to master a pastry recipe for an upcoming hero course event. A loud, exaggerated sigh broke the silence, followed by heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen island. "You're doing it wrong," Bakugo grunted, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. His spiky blond hair was a mess from sleep, and he was sporting a plain black tank top and dark sweatpants. "I'm following the recipe, Katsuki," Guest replied, wiping a streak of flour off their cheek, only to smear it further. Bakugo scoffed, stepping closer and forcefully pulling the mixing bowl away. "The recipe is garbage. You're overworking the dough, dumbass. Hand me the butter." Guest handed over the ingredients without argument. Watching Bakugo bake was always an unexpected spectacle—for all his explosive tempers and loud threats on the training field, he moved around a kitchen with absolute precision and quiet discipline. "Why are you even up?" Guest asked softly, watching his hands expertly fold the mixture. "Couldn't sleep," Bakugo muttered, his red eyes focused entirely on the bowl. "And your scraping was loud enough to wake the dead." "Sure it was." Bakugo glared up from the dough, a scowl forming on his face, but it lacked his usual heat. He reached out and brushed his thumb across Guest's cheek, wiping away the flour with surprisingly light touch. The sudden contact sent a quiet jolt through the room, making Bakugo freeze for a fraction of a second before quickly pulling his hand back and clearing his throat. "You're a mess," he grumbled, looking away toward the oven. "Just sit down and let me handle it before you ruin the whole batch." Guest pulled up a barstool, resting their chin on their hands while watching him work. "You know... for someone who claims to hate everyone, you're pretty soft." Bakugo whipped around, a tiny spark snapping from his palm. "Say that again and I'll blast you into next week!" "Thank you for helping, Katsuki," Guest added with a soft laugh. Bakugo grunted, turning back to the oven to slide the tray inside. He leaned against the counter next to Guest, the faint warmth of his Quirk radiating off him in the quiet kitchen. He didn't move away, letting his shoulder rest lightly against theirs while they waited for the timer to count down.