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Kirishima waves his hand by his ear, swatting at a fly that’s been buzzing circles around him for the past half hour. He should’ve known wearing hair gel on a hike was a bad idea. But, he was going with Bakugou and he wanted to look his coolest, so he was going to have to accept the consequences.
He and Bakugou are walking almost side by side, Bakugou leading the way half a step ahead. The sun beats down, but the evening’s well on its way. Bakugou said it was a day trip, but Kirishima thinks it would’ve been cool to camp out overnight. The trail isn’t difficult, and it’s quite pretty, too.
Kirishima looks up at the clouds, slowly turning peach in the setting sun. The treetops rustle with a breeze and the smell of wild roses is almost overwhelming, but it’s better than just smelling his own sweat. Bakugou probably doesn’t smell much better though, so he doesn’t mind very much.
“Watch where you’re going.” Bakugou’s voice startles him, and he manages to avoid the roots crawling into the path.
“It’s hard not to look up.” Kirishima says.
“We’ll stop at the top.” Bakugou says. “You can look all you want, then. But if you roll an ankle I’m leaving you here to die.”
Kirishima pouts. “You wouldn’t.”
Bakugou glances at him out of the corner of his eye, and Kirishima can tell he knows he wouldn’t, either.
“Thank you for taking me.” Kirishima says, grinning at him.
“Shut up.” Bakugou’s eyes turn back to the path ahead. Kirishima keeps smiling.
The clearing at the top starts to come into view through the thinning trees, bursts of light that make Kirishima squint. He jogs ahead of Bakugou, excited to see the view. He stops before the cliff’s edge, and breathes deeply.
“Wow!” He says, putting his hands on his hips. The evening pulls the sun down to the treetops below them, splashing the sky in pink and orange. The shadows of the dark trees below are dusted violet, and Kirishima watches as their leaves rustle softly in the summertime breeze. “This is sick, Bakugou.”
Bakugou grunts.
“I mean, the sun sets every day, right?” Kirishima says.”But it still takes your breath away.”
Kirishima can feel Bakugou looking at him, and he feels a little embarrassed. Bakugou wasn’t one to talk about the sunset.
He sighs and sits down on a rock, stretching his arms. He closes his eyes and lets the sun’s fading rays warm his skin. He’s going to have new freckles when he looks in the mirror, tonight. He peeks open an eye at Bakugou.
His skin has already darkened into a golden tan, and his hair is bleached near-white by summer. Kirishima wonders if he gets sun freckles, too. His face is ruddy from the exercise, and some of his hair sticks to his face with sweat. He’s handsome. Beautiful, even.
Kirishima’s heart beats hard when Bakugou takes a long drink from his water bottle. He watches his throat move, and the water dribble from the cap, dripping down his skin, mixing with the sweat. Kirishima suddenly feels parched.
Bakugou pulls the tip from his lips accompanied by a string of drool that really should be kind of gross, but it makes Kirishima’s ears feel hot. He reaches for his own water bottle, aiming to dump its contents over his head, but when he reaches for the clip on his backpack there’s nothing there.
He pulls his backpack off, grimacing a little at the way his shirt sticks to his skin. “Agh...I left my water bottle at the last rest stop.”
“Idiot.” Bakugou says. He takes another long swig of his water, taunting, maintaining eye contact with Kirishima.
It does things to him. Things that make him glad he’s wearing leggings underneath his running shorts.
“That’s so mean.” Kirishima whines, and Bakugou laughs a little when he throws Kirishima his water bottle. Kirishima’s heart finds a home in his stomach whenever Bakugou laughs, even if it’s at his own expense. He likes seeing his eyebrows soften out, leaving little lines behind from furrowing them so often.
Kirishima tries to unscrew the top but it’s not like his own water bottle, so he presses his mouth over the tip and tries not to think about Bakugou’s saliva or indirect kiss, indirect kiss, indirect kiss .
The sunlight bathes them in a romantic hue, and Kirishima can hardly stand it. He wants to hold Bakugou’s hand. He wants to slip his fingers between his, and feel the sparks of his quirk against his palm when nervousness crackles out. He wants to grab his face and kiss him until he can’t breathe anymore- he wants to feel explosions on his skin. He’s practically vibrating with the intense need to do something coupled with I can’t do anything .
“-dumbass.” Kirishima tunes in at the end of Bakugou’s sentence. He was watching the pout of his mouth move but forgot that he should also be understanding the words that came out of it.
“What?” Kirishima grins.
“I asked if you had heat stroke or something, dumbass.” Bakugou says. He accentuates the last word with an intent nod of his head.
“Oh, no.” Kirishima says, waving his hand. “Just thinking. Thank you for taking me here.”
“You already said that.” Bakugou says. “Not like I was gonna take some other idiot.”
Kirishima blushes. Bakugou notices, too, because he clicks his tongue and turns away. Kirishima can’t help it- from Bakugou, that was a compliment, if there ever was one.
Kirishima smiles, and brings his eyes again to the sunset. Out of all the things Bakugou was good at, making friends wasn’t one of them. But somehow he let Kirishima work his way into his life. And then Kaminari, Sero, Mina… it was good for him. Kirishima still feels a little pride at being Bakugou’s closest friend, though.
Kirishima lets slip a sigh before he realizes he’s probably acting weird. But how could he help it? He spent the day, sweaty and out of breath, with the manliest guy he knows. And now they were watching the sunset together. What was he supposed to do with this?
What was he supposed to do with every moment their hands brushed? What was he supposed to do with their knees resting together on the train, or under the table when they did homework? Or every time Bakugou would fall asleep on his bed from studying late? It had to mean something .
Or, it was nothing. Wishful thinking. That was more realistic- after all… Bakugou’s only interests seemed to be about being a hero- he didn’t have the time of day for fast heartbeats and handholding. Perhaps his affections were one-sided, and Bakugou was just more used to him than their other friends.
Kirishima lets himself get sucked back into the view, letting his eyes linger on Bakugou, who has moved to the clearing edge, arms crossed. He’s sure if he ever confessed to Bakugou, things wouldn’t be the same. Bakugou would close up again and Kirishima wouldn’t get to see him like he is now- relaxed and, well, enjoying the things he likes to do. Outside of heroism, outside of the classroom. And it did seemed unfair to jeopardize one of Bakugou’s friendships. It’d probably just be weird for everyone , honestly-
“Why the fuck do you keep sighing?” Bakugou turns around. “Bored?”
Kirishima perks up quickly - he hadn’t even realized. “Ah! No, just winded, I guess. And um, the sunset is pretty.”
Bakugou stares at him long enough to let him know he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t say anything more.
Kirishima eats a power bar before they head back down, and drinks more of Bakugou’s water. As they leave the last rays of the setting sun behind them, Kirishima can’t help but feel as though he’s missed out on something. The air starts to cool, making him feel a little clammy. He can tell his mood is affecting Bakugou- usually he’s pretty good at hiding negative emotions for the sake of others, but in this proximity he’s failing, because Bakugou is getting more and more irritated as they walk. The pathway isn’t as bright anymore, so he tries to watch his steps carefully, but he keeps looking over to Bakugou’s pensive face. His eyebrows are bunched together again, and he’s wearing the pout Kirishima wants to kiss- the one knows means he’s thinking hard, trying not to explode.
He hears little cracklings from Bakugou’s palms. He keeps wiping his hands on his pants; there’s something on the go that’s bothering him. He walks on ahead of Kirishima, breaking their leisurely pace.
“Hey, Bakugou?” Kirishima barely has the words out of his mouth before he’s tripping over something in the path. He hardens quickly, and the only injury is a little dent in his pride. He slides a bit on the loose soil before he stops, sitting up and slowly dusting the dirt from his clothes. He inspects the damage- just a bit of mud, then smiles in Bakugou’s direction- but he’s not smiling back.
Of course he isn’t smiling back, because he’s Bakugou, but this isn’t his usual scowl. He has his jaw set in annoyance, and he walks back up to where Kirishima is sitting.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Kirishima knows he isn’t just talking about the uncharacteristic clumsiness, but he answers as such anyways. “It’s just a little hard to see-”
Bakugou gives him another look like he doesn’t believe him. He crouches down next to him, staring intently. Kirishima doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he stills, feeling the sweat cooling on his skin.
Bakugou grabs him by the fabric at the back of his neck and for a second Kirishima thinks he’s just being Bakugou and shoving him around to give him a clear head, but he crushes their mouths together. Kirishima makes an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat- not manly at all. Then, it hits. Bakugou’s kissing him. Suddenly, with as much force as he was pulled in with, Bakugou pushes him away.
Kirishima blinks his eyes wide. He stares at Bakugou’s face, red all the way to the tips of his ears. His hand is still bunched into the fabric of Kirishima’s shirt. His mouth tingles from the press of his lips.
“Oh.” Kirishima says, his own voice sounding too loud despite the forest sounds. He kissed him. Bakugou isn’t meeting his eyes. He’s moving to stand, loosening his grip on the back of Kirishima’s neck but Kirishima catches him.
“Hey…” Kirishima says. He doesn’t know what he means to say next, or if he even planned to say anything at all. He kisses him. He’s clumsy. He feels the plush of Bakugou’s pout, he tastes the sweat on his upper lip. When he pulls away he feels Bakugou’s breath exhale on his lips in a sudden sigh.
Bakugou looks more embarrassed than ever, but surprised, too. Kirishima can’t help the dopey grin spreading across his face.
“You...um. Like me?” Bakugou manages to grunt. He looks completely out of his element. He’s on high defense, but he’s letting himself be a little vulnerable. For Kirishima.
Kirishima’s jaw almost drops open. He… he really didn’t know. “You couldn’t tell? ”
Bakugou furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to speak but Kirishima interrupts-
“I thought I was making it too obvious! I thought you were gonna think I was weird, I-”
“I thought you were acting weird because you knew I liked you!” Bakugou shouts back.
Kirishima pauses, then starts to laugh. He watches a small grin grace Bakugou’s face, and he lets out a snort that makes Kirishima’s heart squeeze. He smiles too, and presses his sweat-sticky forehead against Bakugou’s. He feels Bakugou’s eyelashes when his eyes flutter close to kiss him again. They both smell like sweat and dirt and Kirishima can’t kiss properly because he’s smiling too much. Bakugou’s just getting a bunch of teeth but he’s not moving away, which makes Kirishima grin even more.
He notices fondly that Bakugou gets sun freckles, too.
Bakugou draws back, still not looking Kirishima in the eye. “It’s getting dark.”
Kirishima blushes. Not the intent of Bakugou’s words, but it happens anyways, because he’s so close and his voice is low and private. Kirishima clears his throat, but when he speaks it still comes out as a whisper, “Yeah, we should get going.”
“Watch your step this time, dumbass.”
“Maybe we should hold hands.” Kirishima says, only half joking. He feels giddy and happy and he wants to kiss Bakugou again. A lot. He tucks his lip under his teeth, biting down softly.
“So when you fall again I’ll go down with you?” Bakugou says. But in the low light Bakugou’s hand finds Kirishima’s.
He has to concentrate on the path ahead so he doesn’t trip up again, but Kirishima thinks that if a fall were to lead to more kissing, well, he wouldn’t mind all that much another blow to his pride.