It is with a nonchalant wave of the hand that Aizawa dismisses class 1-A from a torturous group exercise at Ground Gamma. The exercise itself was not that much worse than usual, but the ridiculously hot and humid weather made it deadly.

The boys barely drag themselves into their locker room, and a pile of heavily-breathing and sweaty, stinky bodies forms just inside the—blessedly air-conditioned—door. Bakugou scrunches his nose at the disgustingly putrid smell of teenage boy body odor and steps over the legs of Tokoyami, who has splayed himself by the wall, opting to go around the pile of classmates.

It would be deceitful to say that Bakugou is not feeling this same overheated and overworked ache, however. Rather than slump onto the floor like a pathetic extra, though, he walks the perilous three steps more to make it to a bench he can crash onto.

"Haaaah," he groans, laying his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He takes a moment to wipe away some of the sweat accumulated on his forehead. They all look like wet rats, himself included. Well, not Tokoyami. He looks like a drowned chicken.

After chugging some water like a dying man, Bakugou labors over to his locker, pulling it open to grab his things to get in the shower and wipe this nasty sweat off. He had already noticed a few classmates make small sniffing motions during class and the exercise. Luckily, they had been too busy focusing on not dying to think about where the smell of caramel was coming from, or to even notice it at all. See, this smell is residue from Bakugou's quirk. Burn nitroglycerin, or something like it, in this case, and you get a burnt sugar smell. It is a grossly sweet, unfitting smell, in Bakugou's opinion. That is why he tries to hide it. Luckily, a good wash sends it straight down the drain.

Heading to the shower, he almost trips over something and looks down. He is startled to find massive eyes peering up at him creepily. Bakugou scowls, and Aoyama grins back from where he lays unsettlingly on the ground. "Ah!" he shouts suddenly, maybe scaring Bakugou just a little bit. "Mon ami! What is that incroyable smell?" Aoyama shoots up, leaning towards Bakugou, who slaps Aoyama's head with his towel.

"I don't fucking know. Fuck off, Twinkle Toes," he growls and marches to the shower, slamming the curtains together behind him aggressively.

Aoyama shakes his head knowingly, muttering to himself. "Non non, Monsieur Bakugou." He strikes a pose. "I will find out what this délectable odeur is."

The rest of the week, Bakugou sees Aoyama sending him weird glances. The glances are more of the staring variety, really. The very unsettling staring variety that only Aoyama could manage.

At lunch on Friday, he is eating with Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina, when he hears, "Monsieur—" in his ear and promptly throws out a fist, leaving a red mark on Aoyama's grinning face. "I brought you some fromage," Aoyama ekes out. "If only I could just..." he inches forward, nose first, nostrils moving, and Bakugou explodes.

"Did you just fucking try to smell me, you creepy-ass motherfucker? You've been staring at me all fucking week, and now you're following me around, too?" he shouts, setting off some small explosions.

Kirishima leaps up to stop any potential beat-downs. "Haha!" he chuckles. "Maybe Aoyama just wants to sit with us?" he offers as an escape route. "Not a cool way to go about it, though, man."

"Kirishima-kun!" Aoyama sparkles.

"Bullshit."

Bakugou ends up throwing enough of a fit that Kirishima and Mina shoo Aoyama off apologetically while Kaminari tries to distract Bakugou.

After that lunch, Bakugou knows for certain that Aoyama has a good idea as to where the sweet smell from days ago came from. It had been unfortunate, really, that he sweat enough to wash away the prescription deodorant he practically bathes in every morning. He had been extra liberal in his applications the past few days because of that.

However, because this is a prescription and he was using so much more than usual, he wants to punch himself for his stupidity. On Monday, he realizes he is nearly out of the deodorant. There is only a small amount left, which he now has to spread out over the coming week until his prescription refill. "Fuck," he curses.

It all comes to a head at the end of hero training on that coming Wednesday. Their exercise was not bad at all, yet Bakugou scowls more deeply than usual. He had to apply some of his deodorant and some pathetic regular deodorant to try to hide the smell. He could not use much of the regular version, though, because it interferes with his quirk. As such, he is now extremely sweaty from the beaming sun and is exuding the gross caramel smell. Some of his classmates look confused, whispering amongst themselves as they congregate to get Aizawa's feedback.

Bakugou sighs as he practically hears the sparkling getting closer. "I knew it!" the cheese idiot cries happily when he reaches Bakugou. The claps his hands together. "Mon ami, you smell fantastique! Like caramel brûlée! Ah!" Aoyama continues to squawk as he twirls around, singing praises and random French words.

Bakugou's cheeks flame red, and it is not from the heat. He glares after Aoyama angrily and shoves his hands in his pockets, disgruntled.

Kirishima, who had been beside him, leans over and sniffs Bakugou at his shoulder. "Woah! He's right, Bakugou!" Kirishima praises in surprise. "You smell really goo—AGH," he chokes as Bakugou punches him in the gut.

"That smell is Bakugou?"

A few people get close enough to give him a sniff before he explodes their faces.

"No way! It smells so good!"

"Like caramel!"

"Cool."

"Imagine never needing perfume."

"No, imagine never needing deodorant!"

"Oh my gosh, you're right!"

Bakugou wants to disappear into the ground. Kirishima laughs, patting him on the back. "No need to be embarrassed, man! That's so cool! Way better than smelling like gross feet, you know?"

Bakugou scowls, face burning up. "Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair!" he spats.

Midoriya has a finger on his chin. "I kind of thought maybe your quirk changed over time because it did always smell really good when we were kids. Then, it went away, though, and I thought perhaps something was different. If my memory is correct, Kacchan's quirk's nitroglycerin-like sweat burns similarly to nitroglycerin itself, which begins to smell like burnt sugar, or caramel. What were you doing to cover it up, Kacchan? That must have been something very strong since you are always sweating more than other people—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Bakugou screams, and he looks like he is close to crying. "It doesn't fucking smell good!" he yells, and everyone looks at him in disbelief as he huffs.

Aizawa sighs. "Alright, if everyone is done smelling Bakugou, I need to give the debrief."

A hand shoots up. "Yes, Asui?"

"Can I ask Bakugou if I can smell him? I haven't gotten to, yet, kero."

"NO YOU FUCKING CAN'T, FROG FACE!"

Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head upward, hoping this day would end. Bakugou corroborates.

The End.
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I haven't had this much fun writing in a LONG time I was DYING LAUGHING at some of that near the start gehsbdhd

Bakugou's deodorant: no stop sweat but magically stop smell 🗿

Hope you enjoyed!

-Angry
Word Count: 1227