Chapter Text
Eijirou wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, he and Bakugo clinging to each other, only one of them at least trying not to bawl like a baby. Eijirou kept his face firmly buried in the curve of Bakugo’s neck, even as his very much not dead friend shifted to cry into his hair, his hitching breaths hot and humid and tingly against the shell of Kirishima’s ear. It could have been minutes they spent tangled up in each other or it could’ve been hours, but when Bakugo finally pulled back his eyes were puffy and his face streaked with snot.
“Dude, did you get boogers in my hair?”
Bakugo barked out a laugh, leaning back in to press their foreheads together. “Three years, and that’s the first thing you’re gonna say to me?”
“I mean, technically the first thing I said was your name.” Eijirou managed a wobbly grin, and Bakugo smiled at him, his face going soft and fond the way it only ever did when nobody else was around to see.
“I thought I lost you.” Bakugo whispered, hand rising from Eijirou’s bicep to cup his face. “They said they couldn’t find you, that you were too close to the blast.”
“You were closer.” he retorted, hands sliding down Bakugo’s back to rest just over his hips. “How-”
“Shh.” Bakugo interrupted him before he could finish his question. “Tamaki and Shinsou are back at camp, if I’m not back soon they’ll get worried.”
Eijirou’s eyebrows rose as Bakugo peeled away from him, grimacing slightly as he got to his feet. Since when did Bakugo call anyone but him and a select few adults of the tribe by name?
“You gonna get up, shitty hair, or am I gonna have to bring them to you?”
Eijirou belatedly realized Bakugo was holding a hand out to him. He took it, and let himself be pulled to his feet, promptly stumbling right into Bakugo. “Legs fell asleep.” he chuckled, and Bakugo rolled his eyes, shifting his grip to lead Eijirou by the hand.
“Camp is back this way.” he said, and Eijirou let himself be led through the trees, Bakugo’s hand warm in his, a reassurance that this was real. His eyes roved over Bakugo’s frame, picking out new scars and newer bruises, how his shoulders had broadened, the last of the baby fat melted from his cheeks to leave him with a jawline Mina was almost definitely jealous of. When they’d last seen each other they’d been of a height, but now Eijirou stood nearly a full head taller than Bakugo, a realization that twisted strangely in his chest. They should’ve been together to notice that change, should’ve spent a week with Bakugo demanding he shrink, months fielding demands that he Stop Growing Already.
He stopped when Bakugo did, casting aside his musings when his friend turned to give him another one of those small, precious smiles. “I’m-” he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and lifted his chin as he met Eijirou’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay, Kirishima. It hasn’t been the same without you.”
Eijirou beamed, tugging Bakugo close and ducking his head to nuzzle his friend’s jaw just below the ear. “I missed you too, bro. Sorry I tried to roast you back there.”
“I tried to slit your throat, hair for brains.” Bakugo scoffed, pushing him away, but his eyes still crinkled happily at the edges. “I’d say we’re even.”
“Fair enough.” Eijirou nodded, and Bakugo’s hand shifted up to his wrist, fingers only barely meeting where once they’d easily wrapped around completely. Bakugo turned back towards the camp Eijirou could make out through the trees, now that he wasn’t just staring at Bakugo.
---
“Hey idiots, look who I found!” Katsuki called as they passed the tree line, and the pair of scouts at the cooking fire turned to look their way. Shinsou dropped the stick in his hand straight on his foot as Tamaki’s jaw fell open, both their eyes going wide. Katsuki rolled his eyes, fingers flexing around Kirishima’s wrist, a reassurance that he was, in fact, Here and Real.
“You’re smiling.” Tamaki said, sounding as poleaxed as he looked.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. His best friend was alive, why wouldn’t he be happy? Fuck, he felt like he could fly right now!
“So are you gonna tell me now how you didn’t die?” Kirishima asked as Katsuki led him to the unoccupied side of the fire, sitting down at his side, fingers tangling in the sash at his waist. Katsuki tucked his legs sideways under himself, knees bumping against Kirishima’s.
“It was that fancy bastard travelling with Deku.” he said, settling against Kirishima’s side, soaking in the solid warmth of his dragon. “He had some freaky weird ice magic that shielded us, but then we got buried. Took us a day and a half to dig our way out.”
“We thought you both died until he showed up a month later.” Tamaki offered, and Kirishima leaned against him, chin resting on top of his head.
“How are you not dead?” Shinsou asked, magic layering his question, and Katsuki looked up to see a far-away look on Kirishima’s face.
“I got lucky, I guess.” he said, his voice soft and fuck how did Katsuki not notice before how deep it’d gotten? That on top of him being taller and looking so much stronger just wasn’t fair.
“Lucky.” Shinsou deadpanned. Kisihima nodded.
“I was in dragon form when the Great Evil fell, and when the blast hit I curled up around some of the townies who’d been in the fight. Next thing I knew I was waking up in one of their medical tents and they were saying-” he sat up a little straighter, looking down at Katsuki with such open, raw emotion on his face it was like a hand between his ribs squeezing his heart. “They said nobody closer than us survived.”
“They were wrong.” Katsuki said, grabbing Kirishima’s arm at the elbow and locking eyes with his partner.
“They couldn’t have known-”
“They were still wrong.” he snapped, head whipping to glare at Tamaki. “And so was whoever told me that this stupid bandana was all that was left of my dragon.” he pulled the singed scrap of fabric from his pocket, and felt more than heard the low noise Kirishima made at the sight of it.
“Bro, you kept that?”
“Of course.” Katsuki scoffed, tucking the worn red cloth against his chest. “You would’ve done the same, you big baby.”
“Yeah, but still.” Kirishima grinned, big and goofy and sunshine-warm, and Katsuki grumbled but didn’t resist as his friend pulled him into a hug.
“What I don’t understand,” Shinsou said, his mouth curved in a thoughtful frown. “Is why did you stay away? You’re one of us, the tribe would have welcomed you back with open arms.”
Katsuki watched Kirishima squirm for a moment before releasing his friend’s elbow to jab him in the side. “Yeah, why didn’t you come home?” he challenged, and Kirishima looked away, his cheeks going pink.
“I got exiled, remember?”
“Please, like they would’ve enforced that after you helped defeat the Great Evil.” he scoffed.
“They might have.” Kirishima said, shoulders slumping as he looked back to Katsuki, his fingers sliding free of the sash and spreading across the small of Katsuki’s back, a familiar firebrand against his skin. “And even if they didn’t, I couldn’t stand the thought of living in our tent without you.”
Katsuki found himself nodding, his throat tight with the memory of those first days back. How cold their tent was without the living furnace of his dragon to warm it up, rising every morning and returning every night to see an empty spot where Kirishima’s bed was supposed to be, the absence of his dragon at his side during training like a missing limb.
“Well, I think dinner’s about ready.” Shinsou said, breaking the silence and their eye contact when Kirishima looked over at the cooking fire, visibly perking up at the promise of food.
“He didn’t make enough for you, dumbass.” Katsuki scoffed, pushing himself to his feet and pulling Kirishima up after him. “C’mon, you can have some of my jerky, fuckin’ carnivore.”
“Good thing we’re already on the way back.” Tamaki remarked as Katsuki pulled his pack out and retrieved his personal pouch of jerky. It was mostly empty, but a few days worth of riding snacks would tide Kirishima over until morning, especially if they set some rabbit traps and made a big breakfast.
Dinner passed quickly, Katsuki seated at Kirishima’s side, their elbows bumping as he ate and Kirishima gesticulated his way through stories of what he’d been doing the past few years. The one about how he got that V inked into his shoulder had made rage twist hot behind Katsuki’s sternum, but at least Kirishima had already exacted his vengeance. Still, when they retired to Katsuki’s tent afterwards, he couldn’t help but place his hand over the black mark. Kirishima’s hand lifted to rest over it, and Katsuki leaned in to rest his forehead against his dragon’s shoulder, basking in his body heat.
“Y’know, I don’t exactly have a bedroll.” Kirishima said quietly, his voice shivering down Katsuki’s spine.
“Just like old times.” he grinned, tugging Kirishima to lie down on the thin mat with him. As soon as the blanket was over them both he scooted closer, his hand sliding off of the mark on Kirishima’s shoulder to settle over his side, fingers resting against his bare back. Kirishima made a sound so low it resonated in Katsuki’s chest, tilting his head slightly so their foreheads and noses brushed.
“I missed you.” Kirishima whispered, his voice low and husky with the exhaustion pulling at both of them.
“Missed you too.” he murmured back, and Kirishima’s arm tightened around his waist.
“Bakugo, I-” Kirishima sighed, and Katsuki opened his eyes to see his dragon staring at him in naked concern. “Did you give up being a warrior?”
“Fuck no.” Katsuki shut his eyes again, pressing closer to Kirishima’s warmth, trying to draw it into his own bones. “I’m their guard.”
“But you loved the raids so much.” Kirishima was frowning, Katsuki could tell without even looking. He slid his hand up and pinched the nape of his dragon’s neck.
“Stop being a dummy.” he mumbled, pulling Kirishima as close as he could manage. “Wasn’ the same without you.”
Kirishima- there was no other word for it, he cooed. Katsuki propped himself up on one arm and fixed his friend with a scowl. “I know that tone. Call me cute and I will kick you out of the tent.”
“Alright, alright.” Kirishima laughed softly, his smile radiant in the dark. “C’mon, lay down. I’m sleepy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Big baby.” Katsuki scoffed, but he laid down anyways, letting Kirishima tuck him in close against his chest. Another few minutes of shuffling found him lying half on top of Kirishima, head resting on his dragon’s firm chest, heartbeat strong and steady in his ears. Just like that night in the horrible city which had collared his friend. Kirishima made that deep, rumbly noise again, and Katsuki let his eyes drift shut. They were alive and together, and just like back then, that was all that mattered.