Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bakugou scowls. His lips are a thin line, hands tight fists, shoulders held straight. But Deku returns the hardened look right back, and since he has the actual moral high ground, Bakugou knows it's a losing battle.

He tries to fight it anyway. "You told me I could borrow it!"

"I didn't tell you to pick a fight while you were at it!" Deku takes a deep breath, and once again Bakugou curses the day Deku grew a spine. When did that happen? "This is on you, so you're the one taking it to the shop."

Bakugou shoots the beaten up old car a glare. "I don't know the first fucking thing about your stupid car!"

"I mean, yeah, I know. But it's a good shop, they know what they're doing. Pay half the estimate when you drop it off and the rest when you pick it up. Just. You take care of it."

"How--" Bakugou doesn't want to ask. He clenches and unclenches his fist. "How are you gonna get to work?"

"Uraraka can give me a ride. You can come with us too, if you want."

"No, I'll take the bus."

"Kacchan, it's fine. You don't have to punish yourself just because--"

"I said no."

Deku raises both hands up. "Alright, fine."

"Can I take it in after class?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm not gonna make you miss your classes-- okay, okay, yes. Jeez." He turns to his beloved car then-- a fifteen-year old Nissan with fading green paint that Deku had worked three summers' worth of jobs to pay for-- and is struck with the fervent desire to continue soothing Bakugou's feelings. "You know the damage isn't too bad; I bet they fix it in no time at all."

"Deku, can you just."

"Right, fine. I'll text you the shop address and my guy there." He peers at Bakugou with a too-critical eye, and there's no hiding the small gash in his cheek or the bruise in the corner of his eye. They're only superficial wounds-- he'll ice them and they'll go down by morning-- and the asshole got more than he gave. If only Bakugou had realized they'd seen him with Deku's car and would take it out on that. Fuck. "You're sure you don't need anything for those?"

"I'm fine."

Bakugou is not fine.

He hates feeling indebted enough as it is, and the fact that it's Deku he owes makes the feeling twice as worse. It's not that he doesn't think he should have taken responsibility either, but he'd been in a foul enough mood that morning when Deku had discovered the damage-- how could he have missed it last night?-- that it had just thrown him off altogether, set off a couple triggers he was usually more careful to control.

It fucking sucks.

So he's in an especially foul mood that afternoon after class, slamming the door to the apartment and grabbing Deku's car keys from the counter.

He's stewing in a special blend of frustration and anger when he yanks open the car door and turns the key to start it, letting it sputter to life slowly and no longer as surely.

He's ready for a fight when he pulls into the auto shop, a rinky-dink garage near the outskirts of town, with walls patched with corrugated steel and a couple equally piece-of-shit cars inside. Promising already.

He scowls as he approaches an old table in a corner, buried under a mess of paperwork and various bric-a-brac-- the reception desk, probably, if anyone were sitting behind it.

"Just give me a minute!" someone says, and Bakugou turns around to realize there's someone working beneath an old red car that looked more beat up than Deku's. Bakugou should have seen the guy-- more than half of him is lying out in the open, the car acting as cover from the chest up. He's wearing a grease-streaked, sweat-stained shirt unbuttoned to the middle in the heat, broad chest and solid muscle flexing as he-- the name Kirishima is embroidered like a nametag on the left chest-- tinkered with the car.

Bakugou tears his gaze away, but only manages to rake it down the rest of Kirishima's body-- to narrow hips and a glimmer of tanned skin where the shirt had ridden up, acid-washed jeans showing off thick, strong thighs that tightened a little whenever he needed to push himself further back beneath the car, the squeak of wheels and the clang of metal on metal filling the garage.

The loud complaint that had been bubbling up in his throat dies down, just a little. In fact, his throat feels a little dry. Maybe even parched.

"Sorry," Kirishima says, the words snapping Bakugou back to the present, "This is being trickier than normal. I should be done in a little bit."

The annoyance that Bakugou had gotten down to a low simmer cranks back up to boiling. "Well I haven't got all day," he snarls.

Kirishima rolls out from under the car in a snap and sits up, blinking large, almond-shaped eyes at Bakugou. They're almost completely hidden beneath a jagged fringe of bright red, pulled into a low ponytail. There's a flash of concern-- Bakugou's cuts from the previous night haven't gone away completely-- but it's gone almost immediately.

Bakugou isn't prepared. He blinks back, almost misses the cautious "You're not Midoriya" coming out of Kirishima's mouth.

The name-- the familiarity with which it's said, yanks at Bakugou's nerves. "Who said I was?"

"But that's his car," Kirishima points out, complete with hand motion. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to just above his elbow, exposing thick forearms. Bakugou's sure that's not just from working on cars all day. Kirishima cocks his head at Bakugou. "Who are you?"

"I'm his roommate," Bakugou says, and if he thought he wasn't ready before, Kirishima's expression just changes-- the initial confused neutrality fading away to a spark of recognition in his red eyes and a wide, toothy grin thrown his way.

"Oh! Bakugou! Yeah, Midoriya's mentioned you before. I'm Kirishima Eijirou, it's good to meet you," he says, reaching out a hand before his gaze falls on his greasy palm. "Oops, sorry, that's kind of dirty," he laughs, grabbing a towel and wiping his hands clean before he reaches out again, palm warm and handshake firm. "What can I help you with?"

Bakugou shrugs, flickering a glance at the car. "See for yourself."

Kirishima raises an eyebrow, but if he thinks anything of that, he doesn't say, simply walking over to Deku's car to inspect it. It doesn't take him long to find out what's wrong.

It takes a lot less time Bakugou to realize what a terrible suggestion he'd just given. Kirishima bends over, and jeans so grubby and outdated should not be allowed to hug a body as well as they do, but Bakugou gets a first row seat to-- to that.

He's this close to imploding.

"Damn," Kirishima is saying, peering down at the deep, ugly, angry scratch all along the passenger side before he moves over to inspect the front bumper that's holding onto the car by a thread of hope. "Who did you piss off?" He turns to Bakugou with a crooked grin that falters when he catches sight of Bakugou's face, which feels way too hot even in this weather. "Uh, sorry, I was just joking. You-- are you okay?"

"Fine," Bakugou manages, every word gritted out a last desperate attempt at reclaiming his pride. He is not this weak, what the fuck. He tries more words. "There were. Some assholes."

Kirishima seems to take that at face value, holding back whatever other questions he may have had. "Well, the good news is it's all cosmetic, so we don't need to keep it here for long."

"How long."

Kirishima shrugs. "We're not very busy, so… You can pick it up tomorrow afternoon. That sound good to you?"

Tomorrow sounds too soon. Tomorrow sounds not soon enough.

Bakugou needs to pull his shit together. "Yeah. Sure."

"How did it go?" Deku wants to know when Bakugou gets back home. He and Uraraka are watching some dumb movie in the living room.

"I'm picking it up tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? So soon? That's great, Ochako and I can--"

"I'll pick it up."

Deku frowns. "Are you sure? You were really--"

"I said I'd take responsibility, didn't I?"

Deku and Uraraka exchange looks, but don't say anything else.

Bakugou is tempted to tell them to shut up anyway.

If anyone asks, Bakugou does not have a type.

But if he did, Kirishima would tick all the boxes.

He spends half that night turning over this newfound information in his head. He spends the other half of the night dismissing it. So, there appears to be a very slim, very select portion of the population that Bakugou finds attractive. So fucking what? All it changes is how ready he is next time he comes across them.

Tomorrow will not be a big deal, now he knows what to expect. Bakugou's got this.

The auto shop is an even bigger pain in the ass to get to without a car. Bakugou walks maybe forty minutes from the bus stop to get there just before closing time, arriving sweaty and gross and utterly unappealing, not that he was trying to be otherwise.

But unlike yesterday, he's not the only customer there.

There's some blond kid leaning against the side of a bright yellow car, chattering away as Kirishima's bent over the hood, his back to Bakugou. Blondie says something quiet and the two of them burst out laughing before Blondie sees Bakugou and taps Kirishima on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm gonna head out now, I'll see you later?"

"Huh, already? Why-- oh! Bakugou!" Kirishima waves Blondie away, directing his gaze fully on Bakugou. His teeth are unnaturally sharp, but they're not-- they don't look stupid on him. "Here to pick up Midoriya's car?"

Bakugou frowns. "Why else?" he asks, barely sparing Blondie another look as he heads out of the shop. "You said it'd be done today."

"Well, yeah, it is-- come take a look." Kirishima leads them to the car, which now looks a little more like it used to. It was never going to look brand new-- that time was years and years ago, well before Deku bought it-- but he'd also always kept it in good condition, taken care of it so it was clean and worked out okay, natural age and wear-and-tear issues notwithstanding. The shop-- Kirishima-- obviously understood that, putting in the same amount of respect in fixing it, paint even throughout and the bumper buffed so it gleamed as much as it was possible for it to.

"Yeah, it looks good."

"Great. But uh-- didn't Midoriya tell you? I noticed a couple of things that he might want to also fix while it's already here, so I called him earlier today to ask if he wanted to do them now or at a later time. He said to keep it here til the end of the week."

Bakugou narrows his eyes at Kirishima. Deku had said they weren't scammers, but-- "Did he, now?"

"I'm so sorry, I asked him to pass the message along because I didn't have your contact information--"

"Shut up," he says, pursing his lips into a narrow line while Kirishima blinks at him. He sighs, pulling out his phone and dialing Deku's number. When he picks up, Bakugou barrels right past the niceties. "This guy at the shop says your car needs more work."

"Oh, no, shoot, I knew I was forgetting something! Kacchan I'm so sorry, yeah, he did, I just forgot to--"

"I'm not paying for those," Bakugou tells Deku flatly.

"No, no, it's okay, Kacchan, they have my card on file, I already told Kirishima to use that. And don't worry about picking it up next time since I--"

"I told you I would, didn't I?" he snaps, hanging up before Deku can protest. He glares at Kirishima. "When's that gonna get done by?"

"End of the week," Kirishima says. "Hey, I'm really sorry about--"

"It's not your stupid fault," Bakugou grumbles, raking his hand through his hair. "That stupid nerd."

"If you want, I can give you a ride back?"

Bakugou looks up. "What."

"Uh-- you were expecting to drive back today, weren't you? Well, I'm about to close up, and I feel really bad because I should have found a way to tell you myself. It's really no big deal! It's on my way, you probably live in town don't you? And even if you didn't, I still could--"

"I live in town," Bakugou says. He really doesn't want to walk back one way, and if he doesn't let Kirishima take this one, he's probably always going to feel like he owed Bakugou one or something. "Fine. For not telling me."

Kirishima nods. "Right, yes. Okay! Cool, uh-- well, just hang on a sec then, while I close up?"

"Whatever."

Bakugou tries not to look as Kirishima runs around the garage, putting paperwork away and locking up cars and moving things around in a way that flexes his arms or shows off the broadness of his shoulders or bends him over right in front of Bakugou's line of sight. When he finishes up and wipes his forehead casually, Bakugou tries not to look too hard at the faint scar just above his right eye. When he turns to Bakugou with a bright, brilliant smile and a thumbs up, Bakugou focuses all of his energy in maintaining his scowl.

And then Kirishima's ride turns out to be a large red motorcycle ("Safety first!" he'd told Bakugou, tossing him a spare helmet), and as he's trying to figure out the correct grip level and position, and trying not to look at how tightly Kirishima's jeans are hugging his thighs, and trying not to press too close against Kirishima's back, Bakugou decides there is no god.

There isn't a lot of room for talking when you're sitting on the back of a motorcycle. But somehow, on the way to the bike and then later, as Kirishima walks him to his front door, Bakugou learns the following:

1. Kirishima doesn't live very far.
   
2. He's also taking a few classes for his Physiology degree (of course).
   
3. He's been working at the shop since freshman year.
   
4. He met Deku at one of his classes a few years ago; they've kept up with each other since, even outside of the shop.
   
5. He doesn't seem to mind that Bakugou isn't the most polite conversationalist-- in fact, he seems to find Bakugou's grumbled responses amusing, which throws him off a little.
   
6. He has a really nice, friendly smile. It's kind of distracting-- it takes Bakugou more than a moment to realize Kirishima's asking for his number ("So you don't waste a trip next time, just in case!" he'd said, complete with a sheepish grin) when he drops Bakugou off.
   
7. Bakugou is so sweetly, completely, and irrevocably screwed.

"Oh! Kacchan, you're back early. Sorry about--"

"You're dead to me, Deku."

Deku's car is ready this time, when Bakugou shows up later that week.

Kirishima's behind the counter for a change, head bent over something that looks like homework, pen stuck behind his ear as he highlights a line here and there, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, brow creased in concentration. It's the cutest thing Bakugou's ever seen.

God fucking damn it.

Bakugou clears his throat.

"Bakugou!" Kirishima jolts out of his seat. "Hey, sorry, I got too focused on-- how long have you been there?"

"Not very long," Bakugou lies.

"Okay, good. Well! Suppose you wanna get to Midoriya's car now. It's just over here."

Bakugou falls in step beside Kirishima. "Was that anatomy?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean-- yeah. I'm taking it this term."

"You like it?"

"It's okay, I guess." He laughs, tucking a loose lock of red hair behind his ear. "It's kind of kicking my ass."

Shit. He's supposed to say something nice and supportive here, right? Instead he frowns, says, "Don't let it."Don't let it? He scowls; he's such an idiot, what kind of ridiculous response is--

But Kirishima grins back, and Bakugou isn't sure it's fair for anyone's smile to be this bright. "You're right," he says with a pump of his fists. "I've got this!"

What the fuck. Bakugou recovers himself enough to nod tersely. "Damn right."

They reach the car too soon, Kirishima starting the engine to show Bakugou that the weird whirring sound he'd been hearing before-- and dismissed as just the car being what it is-- is now gone. He hops out of the car, letting Bakugou get into the driver's seat. He has to readjust to get closer to the wheel. "I also noticed your brake's a little less sensitive than it should be, so I've fixed that for you."

"You mean we wouldn't need to slam it to stop now?" Bakugou asks, smirking at Kirishima, who's leaning against the side of the car and peering at him through the open window.

"Yeah, no, you should be fine now." His gaze moves down from Bakugou's face to where his hands are holding the wheel. "So I guess this is it."

Oh. Right. "Do I-- need to do anything else? Sign some papers, or whatever?"

Kirishima shakes his head. "Nope, you're all set. This part's on Midoriya anyway."

"Yeah, okay." Fuck. How does he--

Kirishima steps back, flashing Bakugou another brilliant smile. "It's been nice meeting you! Um. Have a safe drive back, okay? And if you need anything else, you've got my number!"

He does, doesn't he? Bakugou nods dumbly, backing out slowly.

Kirishima waves until he turns around and drives out.

A list of messages Bakugou begins typing, and then backspacing the hell out of before throwing his phone away:

• Hey.
• This is Bakugou.
• Hey, this is Bakugou, Midoriya's friend.
• You're so fucking hot
• Hey.
• Bakugou here.
• Can I take you out
• Hi.

The next time Bakugou borrows Deku's car, he resists the very strong urge to drive it into a post.

It's Deku who drives the car into a post, a few weeks later. He'd barely slept the night before, it sounds like, and had been too tired when he left early the next day for his morning shift.

He's okay, luckily enough, if a little concussed.

"He's too stubborn to get hurt more than that," Bakugou mutters to a bawling Uraraka, who clings to him and gets tears and snot all over his favorite shirt. Bakugou gives her like three pats on the shoulder-- three is an appropriate amount, right?-- and lets her sobs quiet down to the occasional sniffle before he asks if she wants to see Deku.

Of course she does, and the waterworks start up again when they see him. Bakugou turns away from the matching wobbly smiles and wet eyes.

"Kacchan," Deku calls out a little while later.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for troubling you."

"Yeah, well, don't be. You're always troubling me," he huffs, looking away. "Don't be such an idiot about driving tired next time. If you're tired just fucking-- tell me, or something. God. You're so dumb."

"I know, I'm sorry," Deku says with a self-deprecating laugh. "What-- um. Is my car--"

"They towed it to your shop," Bakugou tells him. "You got your priorities on straight, don't you?"

He doesn't mean it the way it sounds-- he knows Deku's just worried because he does need his car to get to work, and buying another one's probably too expensive, and getting this one fixed may also cost a lot-- but he's annoyed that Deku's gone and done something this dumb. When Deku's face falls and his lips wobble anew, though, Bakugou gives in.

"You want me to check on it or something?" he offers.

"It's too much trouble--"

"It's fine. If it helps you sleep at night, whatever."

"Kacchan--!"

Bakugou should know by now it doesn't matter what he says. Deku will find a way to cry regardless. Bakugou sighs, burying his face in one hand, and lets him.

"Is Midoriya alright?" Kirishima's eyes are wide with concern, the question the first words out of his mouth. Bakugou doesn't need to explain what happened; Kirishima's seen the car.

"He's concussed, but he's already crying and apologizing all over the place, so he's more or less back to normal." Bakugou glances around. "He wanted to know how bad the damage was."

He knows he could have called in to ask, but Deku would probably appreciate pictures or something. For his peace of mind. Bakugou's trying to be a decent roommate.

"It's not that bad, actually," Kirishima says, taking Bakugou over to the car, and Bakugou's surprised to find he's not lying. He snaps a couple of images to send to Deku. "The front bumper just got detached, but we can take care of that for you since we'd just replaced it. Chalk it up to attaching it badly before, keep it in the service warranty."

"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?"

"It's for a friend, so. Don't worry about it." Kirishima opens the hood of the car. "I'd just need to run a couple of checks to make sure the rest of it is okay, but that's not going to take long unless there's something else that needs to be fixed. When do you think they'll let Midoriya go home?"

"When the worst of his symptoms are over, they said. Could be tomorrow, could be next week. I don't know."

"Okay, we'll try to get this working as soon as we can so you can pick him up with it when he comes home."

"Alright."

"Bakugou?" When he glances up, Kirishima's wearing a look of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Hah?" He frowns. "The hell wouldn't I be?"

Kirishima shrugs. "It's-- I don't know. I wanted to be sure. It's kind of a shocking thing to go through, I guess? And it sounds like you've been taking care of a lot of the fallout so I wanted to let you know it's okay if you're not okay."

"I'm fine." He's just tired. That's normal. Bakugou's gaze flickers to Kirishima's. "But thanks."

He's rewarded with a smile. "Okay. You'll let me know if you need anything?"

"I will."

"Good. And, uh. Do you want a ride back?"

The list of things Bakugou learns about Kirishima grows to include the following:

1. Kirishima has two younger sisters-- twins. They're in high school and love ganging up on him.
2. He got his scar playing when he was four, getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and then tripping onto the edge of a drawer.
3. He'd always wanted a bike and bought one as soon as he could, much to his mother's dismay. He named it Red Riot, after some comic book hero he loved growing up.
4. When Kirishima's talking about anything he loves, it's hard not to also get swept up along with his passion for it, and he doesn't seem to run out of anything to be passionate about. His eyes light up and his entire face just... brightens.
5. Bakugou wants to know everything that makes Kirishima light up like that.

After weeks of agonizing, the first text Bakugou sends Kirishima turns out to be this:

Hey, this is Bakugou. Is the car going to be ready tomorrow?

Deku's given the green light to go back home after twenty-four hours, but prescribed bed rest until the concussion fades away. It's Uraraka who picks him up, because as it turns out there were a few things that got fucked up and it was going to take Kirishima a few more days to get them all sorted out.

sorry about that man! Kirishima texts him. but i'll let u know asap

okay

Bakugou's trying not to think about how he might extend the conversation they're having when his phone lights up with another text from Kirishima. is he gonna be ok for rides?

his gf is driving him around, When he hits send, Bakugou realizes maybe he should have waited more than a second to reply-- Kirishima might think he'd been holding his phone waiting this whole time.

But Kirishima's response is just as immediate: cool! wbu?

bus

u should consider getting smth urself, the bus routes here suck

Bakugou's thumb hovers over his phone. He hasn't told Deku yet, but he admits, they do. i've been saving up.

yeah? what r u getting?

dunno yet. maybe a bike. Bakugou adds the last bit in quickly, hitting send before he can change his mind. Does that-- is that flirting? He can probably ask Uraraka, but she'd never let him live it down. How is he expected to do this?

!!! really??

maybe. dunno how to drive those tho. but they'd be cheaper

yeah, AND they're faster in traffic. if u want i can show u how to ride a bike.

Bakugou stares at the text. It sounds-- this is good, right? Kirishima offering to help sounds like... is he flirting back? Or is he just being friendly? What's he supposed to say?

He spends so long trying to come up with a reply that Kirishima texts again with a follow-up: only if u want to! not trying to pressure u into getting a bike in particular, i'm just biased :p

Sounds... friendly? Bakugou swallows the disappointment down before he types out: thanks for the offer, still thinking about it really.

ok! Kirishima texts back, but nothing else, and Bakugou tamps down the feeling that maybe he blew it.

The car gets fixed a few days later. In that time, Bakugou doesn't text Kirishima again, and Kirishima doesn't text him either. When he gets the call it's from someone else in the shop, someone he doesn't recognize.

He hangs up feeling a little uneasy.

"Oy, I'm heading out after class to pick up your car," he tells Deku.

"Oh, I can do that now, Kacchan--"

"Are you insane? You're barely getting through your classes and work the way you are right now. Leave it. I'll take care of it."

"Kacchan--"

"Seriously, Deku. You want me to call Uraraka, see what she thinks?"

"Okay, okay," he says, holding up both hands. "Thank you, then."

"You're fucking welcome."

It's not until he gets on the bus that Bakugou starts to worry about how he's supposed to talk to Kirishima now. Act like nothing happened? (To be entirely fair, absolutely nothing happened. That's kind of the problem.) And while avoidance is his usual approach, at least in things like this-- he doesn't really want it to be, with Kirishima. He's-- Bakugou doesn't hate talking to him. There aren't a lot of people he can say that about.

He's no closer to a plan when he gets off the bus, and by then the walk is too annoying that he's really not in any kind of mood to be productive with his thoughts.

It gets worse.

The blond kid is in the shop again, leaning his hip against the same yellow car from before. He's laughing at something, and the way his voice dips and he leans his head close toward the hood of the car is definitely flirting. Kirishima's bent over the engine hard at work, so Bakugou can't see above his waist, just sees his hips jutting out, can't tell if the attention's welcome or returned or--

But just as quickly as it arrives, the cloud of red descending upon Bakugou's vision clears once he gets closer and realizes--

That's not the right butt.

Never mind how he knows. "You!" he barks without preamble, interrupting the conversation.

"Can I... help you?" Not-Kirishima asks, standing up and looking at Bakugou with curious, beady eyes beneath stupid grey eyelashes and stupid 90's boy band hair, dyed in tacky silver. It makes Bakugou's blood boil.

"Where's Kirishima?"

"I guess that's how you can help him," Blondie mutters to Not-Kirishima, who cocks an eyebrow up like some kind of smug bastard.

"He's at Fat Gum's now," he says, crossing his arms.

This is the least helpful 'can I help you' Bakugou has ever encountered. "What the hell is Fat Gum's?"

Fat Gum's is an auto shop, as it turns out, but they specialize in motorcycle repairs. It's also on the other side of town, a good thirty-minute drive away.

Bakugou almost gets into a fight finding this out-- Not-Kirishima is too... too much-- but somewhere in the middle of his confusion and Not-Kirishima's annoyance Blondie had said, "Oh wait, you're Bakugou, aren't you?" with a barely restrained laugh.

Bakugou almost goes after him instead but then Blondie gives him an address. And directions. And tells Not-Kirishima to get Deku's car ready.

When he pulls up at Fat Gum's, the sun's casting a hazy orange glow on the empty road, which means it's almost closing. He parks Deku's car just outside, walking up to the entrance just as Kirishima comes up to close it, his eyes widening when he sees him.

"Bakugou?"

"This place is too damn far."

"Uh."

"And I don't have a bike."

"You don't... really have a car either."

Bakugou scowls. "I'm trying to ask you out," he snaps, because fuck it, he's driven this far already. "Will you let me?"

"Are y--" Kirishima sputters, eyes wide as he stares at Bakugou, whose jaw is tight and whose fists are clenched. Then he grins, and the heat that's slowly rising up Bakugou's neck melts away, just a little bit. "Okay!"

"Okay?"

Kirishima's grin grows even wider. "Okay, you can ask me out!" he clarifies. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt! How were you going to ask?"

The fucker was going to make him spit it out. Fine. "You wanna grab dinner with me this weekend? I can-- I can pick you up." He'll have to ask to borrow Deku's car again.

"How about yes to dinner, and I'll pick you up?" Kirishima counters. "I'm the one with the ride, anyway."

"Fine, but you're showing me how to ride a bike afterward."

Kirishima's grin turns into a smirk at that-- okay, so that text was definitely flirting, then-- and Bakugou is definitely, definitely okay with this.