Chapter Text
Kirishima feels the little explosions bounce against his palm, not bothering to harden his skin. He likes this; feeling Bakugou’s reactions. He feels a little hot at the intimacy he considers.
“I should go home. My mom’s probably out of her mind by now.” Bakugou says. “I uh, I live nearby, actually.”
“Yeah?” Kirishima feels his own palms sweat. He lets go of Bakugou’s hand to throw out their garbage. “Um, I can walk you home?”
“Whatever.” Bakugou mutters, and Kirishima smiles, feeling a little uneasy. Maybe he shouldn’t have held his hand? Was Bakugou just afraid of losing a friend? Just going along with him?
They bundle themselves up again to face the cold, and when they get outside, Kirishima can see his breath in the air. The night is coming in, and Bakugou’s glasses glint in the streetlights.
“What the fuck.” Bakugou says.
Kirishima laughs, seeing that Bakugou’s glasses have fogged up, and Bakugou’s eyebrows are knit in annoyance above them. “Don’t worry, that’ll pass!”
Bakugou keeps walking as the fog resides. “What a pain.”
Kirishima tries not to look at him too much. He looks different with glasses, and it’s something to get used to at first. Not only that. He looks really handsome. Even if the glasses aren’t flashy, and certainly don’t suit his personality, they suit his face, highlighting the straight bridge of his nose, and making his jaw look more defined. The glasses almost rest on his high cheekbones.
He takes a deep breath, the cold sending sharp pains through his lungs. It feels good, though. Refreshing. He’s about to reach for Bakugou’s hand again when cold fingers find his own, first.
Kirishima smiles when the little sparks hit his skin. He should know by now that Bakugou doesn’t agree to anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s too manly for that.
He tightens his grip on Bakugou’s cold fingers as they walk in silence, surprised that they aren’t heating up from the amount of tiny blasts he’s feeling.
“Um, this is my building.” Bakugou says, pointing ahead.
“Kinda looks like mine.” Kirishima laughs, and the corners of Bakugou’s mouth turn upwards a little. Kirishima’s heart tightens so much he takes in another sharp breath of cold air - which doesn’t help the pain, but, again, isn’t unwelcome, either.
“I’ll bring your clothes back to you on Monday.” Bakugou says, suddenly letting go of his hand. Kirishima recognizes that tone - resigned and embarrassed. He’s about to say his goodbyes when Kirishima interrupts him, reaching out to catch his arm.
Kirishima swallows. He’s nervous. His heart is beating and his hands are probably gross and clammy against Bakugou’s wrist.
Bakugou doesn’t pull away, so Kirishima leans in slowly, his eyes closing in a flutter. He presses his lips against Bakugou’s. They’re chapped, like he imagined. The cold frames of his glasses weren’t in his daydreams, but he could get used to it. Bakugou’s lips give easily, in a way he wasn’t expecting. He’s kissing him back . Bakugou’s palms explode audibly, and Kirishima smiles against his mouth. He breathes out through his nose, squeezing Bakugou’s wrists, moves his hands up to his forearms, moves them again, squeezing his shoulders, and finally letting them cradle Bakugou’s face. He presses as close to him as he can, lips moving slowly, heating up. He feels Bakugou’s breath on his mouth when he opens his lips to sigh, a sound that stirs in Kirishima’s lower stomach, and he suddenly realizes that Bakugou’s hands are on his hips, pulling him closer.
Kirishima kisses Bakugou chastely, then, grinning too much to keep kissing him, as much as he wants to. He kisses him softly, again and again, coaxing his eyes open.
He pulls back , just enough to see Bakugou’s cheeks, coloured deeply, and his eyes, wide, but not confused. Just surprised, maybe. Kirishima thinks he probably looks the same. He glances at Bakugou’s lips, glistening with spit, and pink. Pink, pink, pink.
“Um.” Kirishima says, oh so brilliantly. His heart is still racing.
Bakugou clears his throat, but doesn’t move.
“Uh.” Kirishima says, mentally kicking himself. He grins again, unable to stop the small laugh from bubbling up out of him. “Sorry.”
Bakugou shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing.
“So, uh, that’s okay?” Kirishima asks. They’re still holding each other. “This?”
Bakugou averts his eyes, quiet. He’s silent, and Kirishima waits patiently. “Whatever.”
Kirishima laughs again, and hugs him close. “ God , I was a little worried, there man! Sorry.”
“You smudged my glasses.” Bakugou says. Kirishima laughs, taking them off his face. He cleans the smudge off with his sleeve. He kisses Bakugou again, smiling, his heart flipping within in chest.
Bakugou still won’t look him in the eye when he pulls back, but Kirishima knows that will come with time. He kisses Bakugou’s cheek, hot against his mouth. He hears another explosion, and laughs.
“Goodnight, Bakugou! See you on Monday!”
Bakugou takes his glasses back carefully, and gives him a little wave before heading inside. Kirishima swears he’s smiling, too.
On the train ride to his house, he almost misses his stop because he’s so preoccupied with the way Bakugou’s lips felt against his own - the way his hands felt on his hips.
He looks at his hands - they’re bright red from Bakugou’s little explosions. He opens and closes them, feeling the pull of the sensitive skin. It’s a nice feeling.
He restlessly fiddles with his phone - debating telling Kaminari about his night now, or holding onto the novelty for as long as he could stand it. He jumps when his phone buzzes with a message.
From:Bakugou Katsuki
7:34pm
Text me when you’re home.