Chapter Text
He’s nervous. He doesn’t know if it’s because this is something that’s really important to him or because Midoriya had warned him beforehand. Probably both.
But there he is, sitting on the worn-out couch of their studio, pressed up against Jiro’s side on his left and Kaminari on his right, his fingers moving nervously against his thigh in a random rhythm while his other leg tapped anxiously at the carpeted floor, his eyes fixed on the array of stickers on the back of Shinso’s laptop.
A hand that was covered in intricate black lines wrapped around his elbow in a soothing manner, “It’s gonna go great, don’t worry.”
He smiled back at Jiro and her reassuring grin. Maybe he was overthinking it? Maybe this Bakugou guy wouldn’t be as bad as Midoriya made him out to be?
It had been almost two weeks of their band missing a drummer. The previous guy, Shoji, had announced that he was leaving the bad. Nothing dramatic or anything, he just had other things in life that took priority over this, and neither Kirishima nor Jiro or Kaminari could be mad at him. He was a nice guy, and they genuinely had a lot of fun playing together but some things just were more important. Even though both the band and their decent number of fans were sad because of the situation, they acknowledged his decision. With Shinso handing Shoji the broken contract, this era of their music was over.
They couldn’t hold it against him, and they didn’t plan to.
Didn’t mean that finding a new drummer was easy.
Drummers in general tended to be the hardest to come by, especially good ones. And Snake Bite wasn’t going to settle for someone that couldn’t keep up with them and their music.
Shinso had spent days looking for potential musicians who’d be able to fill up the space, but somehow none of them were the perfect match. They either weren’t good enough or weren’t ready to be in a full-time band, some had potential, sure, but their playing styles wouldn’t match up or sometimes they just didn’t feel like they were the right people to be a part of the band.
Snake Bite was a close-knit group. They’ve been playing together for years, and they were more like family than friends. And Kirishima would be lying if he said that keeping it that way wasn’t important to him. He wanted the drummer to be just as much a part of them as Shoji had been.
Midoriya Izuku, the sound engineer that worked under the same label as Snake Bite, had heard of Shoji leaving and their inability to find a fill in and had begrudgingly offered up a name of a friend of his. Supposedly he was really good at drums. Really good.
But before they could get their hopes up, Midoriya had warned them that his friend tended to have a… temper. That he is difficult to deal with on good days and a menace on bad days.
Kirishima didn’t know how to feel about it because he didn’t think that sweet Midoriya who tended to willingly give up his lunch for his colleagues if he knew they were having a rough day could have a friend like that. It just didn’t seem right. But it’s not like Midoriya was a liar, so, there must be some truth to his words.
Midoriya had offered to ask his friend, also warning Kirishima and his band mates that the guy could turn away the offer, because he just was like that. Even if Snake Bite was an up-and-coming name in Japan, slowly rising higher and higher with their music. Realistically, it would be a smart choice to want to be a part of the band for someone who wanted to make it somewhere with music.
To Midoriya’s surprise, he had agreed.
So, there they sat in the studio, palms sweaty and a nervous swarm of butterflies taking flight inside of them. Kirishima tried not to set himself up for anything, repeating to himself to expect the worst but hope for the best. Maybe the guy wasn’t as bad as Midoriya said he was. And even if he is, maybe after meeting the band, he’d open up and see how great of an opportunity this was.
The door creaked open, and three pairs of eyes snapped to the entrance, but soon they let out a breath, seeing that it was only Shinso with a hot cup of coffee in his hand. Kirishima waited for Kaminari to do his countdown.
“That is the third one this morning.” Denki pointed out, his usual easy-going tone laced with something similar to concern. “It’s barely ten.”
Shinso rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair before waking up his laptop from where it sat in sleep mode. With the way Shinso worked his ass off, Kirishima was pretty sure that the device never really got turned off. “Stayed up late yesterday.”
That was the only thing Shinso offered as an answer and Kaminari sat back on the couch, a pout forming on his lips. Kirishima raised an eyebrow at his bandmate, but he didn’t get anything in return. Since when did he care so much about Shinso’s unhealthy habits?
He couldn’t linger on the thought much longer though because there was a quick knock on the door and then it swung open with much more force than any of them expected.
There he was. This mysterious Bakugou guy. Kirishima sat in his seat, kind of in a dazed stupor. He had tried to not expect anything, but still, in his head the idea of the guy had been much different than the reality. He hadn’t expected a guy with tousled blond hair at the top of his head, oh, and a turn of his head revealed an undercut. Kirishima definitely hadn’t expected piercing and intense red eyes that made him look unapologetic and intimidating. Hadn’t expected someone with a frown on their face and a demeanor that all but yelled that he had no interest in being here. He was dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie that looked way too big on his frame.
“Snake Bite?” He asked in a gruff voice, looking at all of them, eyes quickly darting over each person in the room, stopping on Shinso.
“Yes! That is us. Feel free to take a seat.” Shinso motioned for the guy to sit down on the chair that they had gotten just for him and placed next to the couch that the rest of them were sitting on. With a huff, he shut the door and fell into the chair, legs stretched out in front of him, and arms crossed over his chest.
Kirishima had no clue how to read the guy. He was brash, his movements sharp and nothing in the way he presented himself said that he was here willingly or that he wanted to leave a good impression on them. Like he had nothing to prove to them. Almost like he was too confident.
Kirishima shared a look with Jiro and Denki, they wore the same expression as him - confusion and an inability to get a grasp on how to analyze the guy next to them.
“Bakugou Katsuki, right? Midoriya’s friend?” Shinso asked, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. His arm was too close to the steaming cup of coffee for Kirishima’s liking but he didn’t want to point it out in the middle of the interview, he just hoped that Shinso wouldn’t spill it over.
Bakugou scoffed, his frown deepening. “Not his fucking friend.”
“Right.” Shinso gave him a disgruntled look before the room fell into an awkward silence.
“Well, I’m Shinso Hitoshi. I’m the manager.” His purple eyes landed on Kirishima, silently urging them to introduce themselves to the guy.
Kirishima swallowed thickly and sat up a bit to have a better look at the guy over Denki’s head. “Hey! I’m Kirishima Eijirou. I sing and play the guitar.”
Bakugou didn’t say anything, just let his eyes roam over him quickly. For some reason, Kirishima felt scrutinized under his gaze.
Before another awkward silence could settle in, Denki perked up, “I’m Kaminari Denki, lead guitar and the charming one of the group. Nice to meet you, dude!”
Bakugou’s frown seemed to only deepen.
“Kyouka Jiro. Bass. Vocals.” She stated curtly in her usual no-nonsense type of way and that earned her a small nod from Bakugou.
Then another silence fell upon them. For some reason, none of them knew how to go about this. Usually the process went along smoothly, Denki would make stupid jokes and Kirishima would set a tone of nice conversation, Jiro and Shinso would mostly be quiet but still kind and add in their comments when needed. But now? Now it was awkward. And it was probably because Bakugou was so… standoffish?
“Okay, so.” Shinso spoke up, taking the initiative, “You’re probably familiar with the situation, but let’s go over it again so that we’re on the same page.”
“Snake Bite is looking for a full-time drummer that could take up the spot of the previous drummer, Shoji. We work under a contract and the pay is equally distributed between the members of the band and the label. Have you ever been in a band before?”
“No.”
“Okay, that’s fine. It’s not something expected. What kind of musical experience do you have though?”
Bakugou sighed. “I finished Yuuei Academy.”
Oh. Oh.
Yuuei is the topmost prestigious music academy in all of Japan. Their entrance requirements were wild and only the truly talented could get in there and finish the school. Wow, okay. Kirishima sat shocked in his seat. He could see Denki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline while Jiro sat unmoving next to Kirishima. He could also see Shinso’s eyes widening a bit as he wrote something down on his laptop.
So, Bakugou was a music prodigy. Maybe his confidence was justified after all? Maybe they truly were the ones who should be thankful that he was giving this a try?
No. Kirishima scolded himself. Just because Bakugou finished a prestigious school, didn’t mean that he was better than them. There was no use in him being insecure, especially about his band. Bakugou still had to prove himself, and they had the power to either accept him or not.
Besides, prestigious music academy didn’t immediately correlate to great rock music. He might be good in theory, but Snake Bite’s music was more than just fancy knowledge.
“So, I take you have experience in playing live?” Shinso peered back at Bakugou over the laptop’s screen.
“Of course.” He said but didn’t give up any details. Something made Kirishima believe that Bakugou will be a tough one to crack.
“Would you mind showing us how you play?”
Bakugou looked back at Shinso like he thought he was stupid. He frowned but then brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his temple. “Fucking hell, fine…” Mumbling to himself he got up from his chair and moved past them to the back of the room where all of their equipment stood.
Kirishima and the rest of them turned in their seats to watch Bakugou move around the drum set that they had in the studio, his intense gaze going over the cymbals and toms, as if to see if they were up to his standard. He picked up the drumsticks and sat down on the stool, adjusting the seat to his liking, then pulling the snare drum just a bit closer.
“What do you want me to play?” He looked up while checking the cymbals.
“Are you familiar with any of our songs?” Jiro spoke up.
“No.” Came his simple response.
“Well, then, play whatever you think will match our music.” She said, while fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.
Kirishima could hear Denki mumbling to himself something about being sure that he probably wasn’t even as good as he was acting with the attitude that he had. Kirishima didn’t know what to expect, he was sure that Bakugou probably was good, otherwise he wouldn’t have been in Yuuei. The part that was the most confusing to Kirishima though was that he didn’t know why Bakugou was here if he looked like playing was a chore rather than something he enjoyed.
Kirishima was worried, he wasn’t sure if Bakugou was the right person for the spot, but they were losing hope, there weren’t many options left and they didn’t want to go on break simply because they missed a drummer, but he also didn’t want to have someone in the band that didn’t enjoy music the way that they did.
And then Bakugou started playing. A simple rhythm – at first.
Kirishima could hear Denki stifle a laugh when the beat started off simple. But he shut up as soon as Bakugou started going absolutely ham on the drums.
His arms came flying down to smash the cymbals and drums with a force that could only be described as too much but exactly right at the same time. The beat was intense and Kirishima felt the itching need to pick up the guitar and build a melody to the tempo that Bakugou had set.
It was impressive, to say the least. It was everything that Kirishima had expected but also so much more. And he couldn’t help but look at the way Bakugou’s face changed and morphed with each hit to the drums. One would think that he was trying to tear the equipment apart with the way he was scowling, eyebrows knit together, and eyes cast in shadows. But that wasn’t the case. The amused and barely-there twitch to his lips was the sign that Kirishima had been looking for.
He was enjoying it. Bakugou loved playing drums.
It was a relief. That was what was important to Kirishima, for their band to have passion for what they did. And by the looks of it, Bakugou had a hell of a lot of passion.
Next to Kirishima, Denki had fallen silent, a bit of a sullen look crossed his face for being proven wrong, Jiro was moving her head to the beat in that way she usually did when she liked what she was hearing.
Kirishima chanced a look at Shinso. As if on cue, the purple haired man turned to lock gazes with him, a silent question in the way he raised his eyebrow at Kirishima. Pretty good, right?
Midoriya had been right. Bakugou was an amazing drummer. And the way he played, well, somehow, he had matched the band’s music concerningly accurately. It was rougher and harsher than how Shoji used to play, certainly more aggressive, but Kirishima couldn’t bring himself to dislike it, actually, he kind of really liked it.
With a final bang Bakugou stopped playing, subsequently leaving the room to stew in deafening silence.
Before he could overthink the whole thing and stop himself, Kirishima spoke up, “Why do you want to join this band?”
Bakugou looked straight at Kirishima, his piercing eyes digging into him, resembling an animal that was about to hunt down its’ prey. After a few moments, Bakugou’s lip twitched and he broke his gaze, looking somewhere past Kirishima. “My therapist said it would be good for me.”
That definitely wasn’t what Kirishima was expecting. He humored the thought that it could be because of money or fame, or getting his name out there, or something like that. So, he had not expected that. But he wasn’t here to judge, no. If his therapist thought that it would be good for him, well, maybe it would.
Kirishima has definitely found his own solace in music at certain times of his life before. It was his way of healing through playing and singing. He knew that with music he wasn’t alone. So maybe Bakugou needed the same. Or something similar at least.
“Well then,” Shinso spoke up, leaning his elbows on the table, “what do you guys think?”
Jiro and Denki sat up a bit, it was Jiro that started talking first, “I think he plays nice.”
A moment passed when they realized that she wouldn’t be elaborating on that. Jiro was as concise as ever.
Then Shinso’s eyes landed on Kirishima, urging him to share what was on his mind.
“I think… he’s really good.”
He could feel Bakugou’s eyes boring into him from where he sat perched on the stool next to the drums. He tried really hard not to let the blush appear on his face, he wasn’t used to someone looking at him with that much intensity, “I think he matches the way we play really well.”
Shinsou nodded and then all eyes landed on Denki. The guitarist winced and started to whine overdramatically, “Why would you leave me as last?! Now everything rests on my shoulders and it’s not like I can go against them two!”
“Denki!” They all groaned, used to the man’s antics and need to up play every situation.
“Just say what you think, Dunce Face.” Bakugou grumbled.
“Dunce Face?!” Denki gaped at the other blond. “You’re not even in the band yet! You can’t call me names!”
“Yet.” The other smirked.
Denki sent a glare at the drummer. “I don’t like you!” But then he rolled his eyes and grumbled, “But you play good.”
Kirishima could feel the way Bakugou smirked without having to look his way.
Shinsou finally took a sip from his coffee and sighed afterwards. “Okay, so you all think he plays well, and I agree. But what do you think, Bakugou? Do you have what it takes to be in a band? In this band?”
The blond sneered. “Of course. Why would you even ask me something like that. I came here and that’s proof enough. I don’t do shit, I don’t mean.”
“I’m just making sure. You do know that the contract is minimum three years, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And that you’d have to follow the contract and what it says? I mean, it’s nothing that bad, just some social media stuff and legal aspects.”
“Yeah.”
“And that -”
“Why the fuck are you trying to talk me down from this?! I know what I’m in for, just give me the fucking contract, Eye Bags!”
Jiro couldn’t keep the snigger in, she clapped a hand over her mouth when the sound escaped her lips. Kirishima almost joined her laughter but schooled his expression at Shinso’s annoyed look.
So, Bakugou has a thing for nicknames.
“Hey! Don’t talk like that to our manager!” Denki pointed an accusatory finger at Bakugou.
The man flashed his middle finger at Denki.
Oh, boy. Somehow, Kirishima knew that this would be a daily occurrence if Bakugou were to join the band.
“Okay!” Shinsou raised his voice, silencing the two bickering blondes. “Shut up you two.”
A pout formed on Denki’s face, “I was defending you.”
A single glare from Shinso and Denki sat back on the couch with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest. Kirishima patted his shoulder.
“As I was about to say, I’ll just print out the contract, and you give it a read and then let us know what you think. We don’t have to make this decision rashly and I still want to talk with the rest of the members and get their input on what they think.”
Bakugou huffed and stood up from the stool. “Fine. Then give me the damn contract.”
“Alright, let me get it ready and print it out.”
Shinso turned to his laptop and started on getting the contract ready for Bakugou to take home and read through. It was a bit of an awkward silence; for Kirishima at least. It’s not like he always needed conversation, he knew how to appreciate silence, but something about the situation was awkward. He just wanted for them to get along and for the band to get a good drummer.
Maybe Kirishima just needed to befriend Bakugou. Let him know that the band was a safe place, tear down that hard attitude and see what hid behind it. Because Kirishima was sure that there is something good behind all of that roughness, the middle fingers and sneers.
“Here.” Shinso placed the stack of papers in Bakugou’s outstretched hand. “Let us know what you decide.”
Bakugou grumbled something in affirmation and without a glance back, walked out of the room.
“So. What do you think?” Shinsou asked.
And after a very thorough conversation between the four of them that almost lasted an hour, a decision was made. They would accept Bakugou into the group.
Days passed, but they didn’t hear from Bakugou.
***
It’s a sunny and beautiful day. Kirishima had woken up bright and early, his mood exceptionally good so he couldn’t help but stop by the coffee shop and get everyone their favorite drinks for breakfast. He had memorized their orders a long time ago, asking and paying for all of them came as natural as anything else.
The moment he walked into the studio doors he knew that something was up. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was different because there weren’t any physical changes in the building, but there was a nervousness in the air, a sort of excitedness laced with the unknown.
Kirishima walked up to the receptionist while trying to balance the cup holder in one hand. “Hey, Mina! Our room is open or am I here first?”
The pink haired woman looked up at him with a bright smile, something mischievous to the way her lips were tilted. She twirled a pen between her fingers. “You know Shinso’s ben there for a while.”
Kirishima chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t even know why I asked.”
She squinted her eyes at him, a playful pout on her lips, “Hey, why didn’t you get one for me!? It’s almost like we haven’t known each other for years now.”
Kirishima felt a tickle of guilt rise in him. Mina was a friend and he had forgotten to bring her a drink. He knew she was joking and wasn’t actually mad, but it was really shitty of him to forget about her like that. “Ah, sorry, Mina-”
“Don’t get your boxers in a twist, it’s alright, I’m just teasing.” She laughed goodheartedly. “But if you were to bring me my iced coffee, I would have warned you about what awaits you, but now your faith is in your own hands.”
Kirishima glanced at her, his eyes narrowing at the grinning woman. “Should I be scared?”
She huffed and laughed, “I don’t know, Kiri. Go see for yourself.”
And with that Mina ushered him away. He was bracing himself for something bad, his heart picking up its pace just slightly as he strode up the stairs to the second floor where Snake Bite’s studio was waiting for him. There was an odd number of people walking past him, carrying stuff with them, but he had no clue why. Usually there weren’t a lot of people on their floor, just them and some other people working on music.
But as he neared their room, he realized that that’s exactly where the people were coming from. He quickened his pace once he heard someone yell “Dumbass!” from somewhere inside.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
Inside Shinso was sitting at his desk, eyes as dark as ever, his laptop sat opened but unused as the man was peering lifelessly at the ruckus in their studio. Kirishima vaguely saw some of his papers with lyrics and melodies strewn on the floor, forgotten and unnoticed as men stepped on them as they hauled the pieces of their drum set out of the room.
Kirishima stepped inside and out of their way purely because he was too surprised to ask any questions, much less do anything to stop them.
And then he noticed the angry and frustrated blond in the middle of all the mess. He was glaring at the men, telling them to be careful and not touch what was not supposed to be touched, his eyes were intense and for a second Kirishima was glad that it wasn’t him who was hauling the drums out the room, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to withstand the intensity of those eyes or the brashness of the voice.
Quietly, as if to not disturb anyone, Kirishima walked up to Shinso’s desk and placed the pure black coffee near the tired man. Instantly a hand latched onto the paper cup and took a sip, no care about the temperature whatsoever. Finally, after a big gulp, Shinso looked up and nodded once as a thanks and a greeting.
“I’m kind of afraid to ask what’s going on.” Kirishima mumbled under his breath.
Shinso sighed, then took another sip of his drink, “This one showed up out of nowhere with his own drums. Turns out he’s joining us.”
“Wait. What?” Kirishima stared down at Shinso, his eyes wide with disbelief. They hadn’t heard from Bakugou in a week, consequently leading them to think that he had decided against having anything to do with them. And suddenly he’s here making a storm inside their studio.
“Yup. It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. He didn’t call me or anything. Just showed up here with his own drums.”
And then Kirishima noticed the other set of drums in the already packed room. Bakugou was standing in front of the instrument protectively, as if afraid that someone could easily damage them.
Shinso sighed, “Well, it gets us out of looking for anyone else, I guess.”
“Wow.” Kirishima muttered. “This is definitely… unexpected.”
As if on que, Bakugou looked up and noticed that Kirishima had entered the room. He was looking back at Kirishima with an unreadable expression, then he looked away and kept urging everyone to work faster.
“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice joined Kirishima and Shinso. Jiro came walking in, her tattooed arms on full display as she wore a loose tank top, the heat the reason for the wardrobe choice she usually wouldn’t make. Kirishima handed over the green tea he got for her, a grateful smile blooming on her face.
“Well, looks like our drummer boy actually decided to join us.” Kirishima laughed at Jiro’s confused expression. “Yeah, same. I didn’t know about this either. We found out just a few minutes ago.”
Jiro rubbed her nose in that way she did when she was being truthful, “I mean, I’m glad. He’s a good drummer.”
A moment of silence settled between them as they watched the last bits of the drums getting carried out.
“Why are our drums being moved out, though?” Jiro deadpanned.
“He wanted his own set to work on.” Shinso responded, giving a sad look to his already empty cup.
“Fair enough.”
Finally, the drums were carried out and Bakugou was shooing the workers out so he could set his own up without “some extras fucking up his shit”.
“Hey, man. Good to know you decided to join us.” Kirishima spoke up, deciding to be nice with the hopes of easing the frown between the blonde’s eyebrows.
“Whatever.” Bakugou scoffed and turned back to fixing his drums.
Jiro stifled a giggle under her breath. Kirishima shot her a look, but she just giggled more. “What’s so funny?”
Finally, she said, “Turns out someone is immune to your sunshine ass.”
Kirishima pouted, “It’s a matter of time.”
“The fuck are you talking about me like I’m not even here, Shitty Hair?”
“Shitty Hair?!” Kirishima whined. He remembers thinking about what nickname Bakugou would give him… Shitty Hair? Really? And the way he had felt so good about his hair today too. He had let it loose today, letting it hang over his shoulders in its natural straight texture, his dye job freshly done a few days ago. A sad expression formed on his face as he turned his sad eyes to Bakugou, “My hair’s not shitty.”
“Cry about it.” It sounded like Bakugou wanted to say more but decided against it, turning back to his drums.
Jiro shook her head and went up to her bass that had been pushed against the wall with its stand so that it would be out of the way when the drums were carried out. The same had been done to Kirishima’s and Denki’s guitars.
“What the hell…?”
Everyone turned to look at the newcomer. Denki looked at all of them, confusion written all over his face. Kirishima faintly noticed the dark circles around the man’s usually bright eyes but didn’t linger on the thought as Denki gaped at Bakugou.
“He’s joining.” Jiro said while tuning the strings on her instrument.
Kirishima handed him the caramel macchiato that he knew his bandmate liked so much. Finally, he got to his own drink and threw out the cup holder in Shinso’s trash bin. He took a sip of his latte and smiled, some of his hurt from having his hair insulted being lifted off his chest.
Then a thought occurred to him. “Sorry, for not getting you anything, man. If I’d known you’d be here, I would have.”
“I don’t need your shitty drinks. Can we start playing already?” Bakugou scowled.
And so, they started playing.
***
Kirishima’s day had started off amazing, he had felt great, the sun was shining, and he was happy to start the day. But soon it had become… difficult. It’s not that his day was ruined, but the atmosphere in the studio soon had turned a bit sour.
First, he noticed how Denki was less the bouncy and energetic ball that he usually was and more a sad carcass of the person that Kirishima had known for so long. And it’s not that Denki didn’t have his bad days, Kirishima knew that he was just as much of a person with bad moments just like any of them, but something just seemed off about the guitarist.
Usually, he bounced back to being himself. Usually, he would laugh at Kirishima and take in stride his attempts at trying to lift his mood. But today Denki gave weak smiles and badly faked laughs.
Kirishima was getting a bit concerned because this was very unlike Denki. Was it something relating to the band? Did he actually hate Bakugou being there with them? Or was it his personal life? Kirishima didn’t know and it was driving him a bit crazy. Especially when he remembered the dark circles that Denki had walked into the studio with that morning.
Jiro had also noticed the change but didn’t say anything, probably because Bakugou was there, and she didn’t want to expose Denki to the newcomer like that. Shinso, on the other hand, was even more quiet than usual, not sparing Denki a single glance, eyes focused on his laptop.
And after Kirishima caught Denki outright stare at their manager for a full minute, expression hard and the creases in his face more prominent than ever, he started to suspect that maybe it was something between the two that had caused Denki’s shitty mood.
He didn’t want to pry though, especially now while they were practicing. He’d have to catch Denki later on, because he wasn’t about to let his friend suffer though something alone.
Then there was the whole Bakugou thing.
Soon Kirishima had realized what Midoriya had meant when he said that Bakugou had a temper and that he was difficult to work with.
He tended to snap at all of them. Insults were a necessity instead of a rarity and he was very, very prideful. To the point where he thought that only he was right.
Usually he was, but that didn’t change the fact that he could be nicer about proving his point.
And as soon as they had started going over their discography, talking him through the songs and how they’re supposed to sound, he had unleashed his temper as well as his fancy academic knowledge about music. So much so that Denki, with his already soured mood, had stormed out of the room at one point, choosing to distance himself from the situation instead of building on it. Bakugou had taken that as a win.
They had taken a break while Denki was gone but started up playing once he had come back again. The room was thick with air, the air conditioning far too weak of a force to fight the tension that had grown between them.
Even Jiro, a person that hated confrontation and unnecessary drama, had rolled her eyes at some point because Bakugou was just that infuriating.
Kirishima didn’t know what to do. Because he didn’t want to give up on the explosive blonde. Maybe it was wishful thinking or maybe he was just an idiot, but he wanted to give Bakugou a proper chance. And besides, breaking the contract the day it was signed would be just too damn ridiculous.
So, Kirishima grit his teeth and hoped that Bakugou would let loose and get rid of his shitty attitude sooner rather than later.
Because as much as he was a dick, he played really well. The things he added to their songs in the sense of the drums and the beat was amazing, the sound becoming richer and fuller somehow. More prominent, noticeable. It was so Snake Bite that often Kirishima was left feeling like they’ve been doing this thing wrong all this time.
But he wasn’t going to settle for this. He wasn’t the scared teenager that he used to be. He would look the lion in its mouth if that meant that his friends could play their music without being talked down on and insulted at every chance.
So, when Shinso announced that they should probably end for the day around six pm and Bakugou made his way out of the door without even saying goodbye, Kirishima called after him.
“Hey, Bakugou, wait up!”
“Kiri, don’t bother.” Jiro grabbed him by his wrist when he tried to move past them.
“I just wanna talk for a bit.” Kirishima said, pulling his arm free from her grip.
She frowned worriedly, “I know what you’re going to do. You don’t have to.”
“I know.” He said and gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. Then he walked out the room and ran after the drummer.
“Hey, Bakugou!” He stopped in his tracks when Bakugou spun around in the middle of the hallway. Thankfully, no one was around.
“What, Shitty Hair?”
“That.” Kirishima steeled his voice and looked down at the shorter male.
Bakugou squinted his eyes. As if the action of looking at Kirishima was pissing him off. “What ‘that’?”
“You’re gonna have to get rid of that attitude.” Kirishima said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because if you’re going to be a part of this group, you’re going to respect all the members.”
Bakugou sneered at him, “I’m not going to pretend nice if that’s what you’re asking, Shitty Hair.”
Kirishima could feel his own temper rise. He was an easygoing guy, it wasn’t in his nature to tell someone how to act or what to do, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t keep quiet when he knew someone was being rude for no reason, especially to people he knew didn’t deserve it.
“No. Listen.” He stepped forward into Bakugou’s space. “Be a dick all you want. I don’t care. But when you’re in there with my bandmates, you get your potty mouth shut, okay? I don’t want to hear a single thing about how Denki ‘can’t play it right’ or Jiro fucking up the beat or whatever.”
“Shitty-” Bakugou started, the rage in his eyes evident.
“No. Shut it. I’m not done.” He took another step forward and tried his best to keep the urge to poke the man’s chest at bay. “Starting tomorrow, you talk to them like a normal person. No curses or insults. We’ve been a band long enough for me to care about them like family. And you are the newcomer. You can be replaced. So, keep that in mind.”
With that Kirishima stood there, keeping Bakugou’s intense stare and not budging the least. In reality his heart was beating out of his chest because he hated this. He didn’t want to be a mean guy. This wasn’t like him; but it had to be done. Boundaries needed to be set.
They stood there for a while, Bakugou sizing him up, red eyes on red eyes. He was frowning, his hair slightly falling in front of his face, hands tucked in the front pocket of his black hoodie. His face was pulled into an angry frown, everything about his demeanor said that he’d gladly want to punch someone right now.
Then he smirked at Kirishima, curling up his lip and raising his eyebrow, a challenge on his face. Somewhere in the back of Kirishima’s brain a though occurred that Bakugou would be pretty if he wouldn’t be making all these faces.
“Fuck you, you Shitty Haired loser.”
Bakugou turned and without a glance back strode out of the building, his shoulders hunched but pace fast and intentional.
Kirishima let out a heavy breath.
He didn’t know what to think. Did the message get across? Would Bakugou listen? Would he even show up tomorrow?
He walked back to their studio, something heavy on his chest. But for some reason a glint that he’d caught from Bakugou’s eyes right at the end stayed permanently burned in his memory, something about it making him think that he’d be back the next day.
That he had a lot more in store for Kirishima and Kirishima didn’t know if he was ready for that.