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Bakugou exploded. Everyone knew that. Literally and emotionally, and Kirishima knew better than anyone (except maybe Deku). What everyone didn’t know, was everything that he kept bottled up. All the frustrations he didn’t let slip, all the rage he couldn’t act on, he kept it all inside. A time bomb, just waiting to go off.
Kirishima had been on his way back to his door, when he heard it. The shouting, the swearing, the stomping, all coming from Bakugou’s room. His hand went to the handle almost instinctively, but it hovered, unsure. Would Bakugou want to see him now? Probably not. ...But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to see him. The handled clicked, and the door swung open.
Bakugou was there, even more disheveled than normal, wild eyed and pacing like a caged beast. His head snapped up, ruby eyes locking onto Kirishima, and narrowing.
“Get. The fuck. Out.” At a glance, it was his usual snarl, but Kirishima could tell this was different. This wasn’t his usual empty bluster. That growl was a warning… and a real one.
“Bakugou, you okay dude-?”
“I said get out!” The growl rose to a roar, and even Kirishima took a small step back. He’d never seen him this angry before. But the way his eyes darted around, from him, to the door behind him, Kirishima could tell. Those eyes weren’t angry. They were scared.
“Is this about what happened with Overhaul? Are you made at Deku for hitting the news?”
“Shut up, shut the fuck up!”
“Is it because I did-?”
Bakugou’s fist slammed into Kirishima’s chest, which hardened on reflex, even as Bakugou fought to smother the explosion that had started to slip out. His body was shaking with rage, but his eyes had gone to full on terror. Kirishima grabbed his arm.
“Bakugou, you know there’s no one I would have wanted out there with me more than you, I’m sorry-!”
“It’s not your fucking fault!” His fist slammed into Kirishima’s chest again, another explosion stifled. Kirishima could see his hand cramping with the effort. “It’s my fucking fault! If I wasn’t such a fucking fuck up, I wouldn’t be seeing fucking Deku’s face on the news!”
“Bakugou, bro, talk to me.”
“ Get the fuck out before I end up hurting you! ”
For Kirishima, it all clicked. When something pissed Bakugou off, he lashed out at it, and got it out of his system. Except this time, he was angry at himself- That wasn’t dirt on him, those were bruises! And those were definitely burn marks!
“I’m not leaving, until you talk to me.” He stood his ground, back to the door, as Bakugou’s shaking hands clenched even further into fists.
“I said I don’t want to fucking hurt you-!”
“I can take it!” Bakugou stopped, even though he was still shaking. “Throw everything you’ve got at me! Keep coming at me, because I’m not going to move until you’ve got it all out.” This time, Bakugou didn’t hold back, the explosion burning away at his uniform, but leaving his hardened skin unhurt.
For a few long minutes, Bakugou threw punch after punch, tears beading in the corner of his eyes.
“I hate that I’m losing! I hate that I’m at the fucking bottom! I hate that you keep having to save me, and I hate that it’s all my fucking fault...!” His punches slowed to a weak pounding, the explosions dying before they could even properly form, as Bakugou slumped, collapsing in Kirishima’s arms.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.”
When Bakugou woke up, he was surprised to find himself in bed, covers neatly tucked over him. Even most of the damage to his room had been cleaned up. And Kirishima was there, sat in his desk chair, and watching him like a worried mother. He’d never seen someone look so damn happy to see him awake.
“Good morning,” he said, though he kept his voice low. It was still pitch black outside.
“What are you-”
“Shh, it’s pretty late. I think everyone else is asleep.”
“Then why the fuck aren’t you?” Bakugou muttered, wincing as he tried to sit up. Why the fuck did he hurt so much?
“Because there was no way I was going to leave you alone in that state. You really did a number on yourself, you know that?”
“And I fucking deserved it-”
“No you didn’t!” Even though he’d managed to stop himself from shouting, even Bakugou could tell. Kirishima was angry. Kirishima . At him. Now he’d really fucked up. “It’s not all your fault!”
“Yeah. It fucking is.” He couldn’t even muster the strength to yell. He was past anger. Now he was just at a drained acceptance.
“But you know you messed up, which means you can fix it. And you’re not a loser. Would a loser come first in the sports festival? Would a loser tell the league of villains where they can stick it, even while he’s captured in their base?” The only loser thing you’ve done is beat yourself up over it, instead of fixing it.”
“The fuck am I supposed to fix it? Just fucking change who I am overnight?”
“Of course not. You’re strong, and brave, and smart, and cool, and manly. Why would anyone want to change you?”
“What, you wouldn’t all prefer me to be like Deku? You all like that fucker.”
“Well, yeah, but he makes the effort to talk to us-”
“So why would anyone like me?”
“ I like you.” He said it so matter of factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. But it wasn’t. It made no sense. It made even less fucking sense that the crap that usually came out of his mouth.
“I just beat the crap out of you.”
“And I let you. Dude, you can’t just keep it all bottled up inside.”
“Well what else do I fucking do?”
“Actually talk to me! I want to be there for you when you feel like crap, even if it’s something dumb. Especially if it’s something dumb. Just… let me be there for you.”
“...Why?” Bakugou looked up at him, angrily blinking away the start of more tears. “Why would you even want to?” Kirishima was nice, sure, but he was nice to everyone. This was way beyond that though. It made no sense.
“I told you. I can take it. I want to take it, so you don’t have to take it all yourself.” Gently, ever so gently, he reached out, and ran a hand through Bakugou’s hair. He flinched. Kirishima seemed to realise what he’d just done too, as he jerked his hand back, but Bakugou caught his wrist.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have- I- I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking-” Kirishima was babbling now, but Bakugou, strangely, didn’t feel angry. Surprised, sure, but… It was hard to explain, even to himself, but when Kirishima was there, the fears, the doubts, the anger, they were still there, but they felt… a bit less? Like Kirishima was somehow soaking some of them up from him. And he didn’t want that feeling to go.
“...didn’t fucking say you couldn’t.”
“You mean-?” Fuck. Where’d the dependable guy from a few minutes ago gone? Now he was stuck here with nothing but Kirishima and his dumb grin. Bakugou hadn’t realised how cold he’d felt, until he felt the warmth of Kirishima’s hand against his scalp. The warmth from that dumb fucking smile. It was soothing, and he was tired, and he could feel himself drifting off.
“I should get back to my room…” he muttered, starting to rise, but he stopped.
“Stay…” Bakugou mumbled, already halfway to sleep. Kirishima looked down at Bakugou softly.
When Bakugou woke up, Kirishima was still there, asleep in the chair beside him, hand holding his.