Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaminari Denki was a little overprotective of Kirishima.

Sure, Kirishima could handle himself. He and his hardening was pretty impressive, and if he was in a fix he’d probably be fine. But even still, Kaminari couldn’t help but worry about the boy. See, Kiri was his best bro. His best bro. And Kirishima was a really good dude, like, super duper good. He was so nice, to a completely ridiculous extent he was nice, and super trusting. Always in pursuit of what was good and manly. He was so nice and friendly, in fact, that he managed to befriend the living (exploding) human embodiment of a feral alley cat.

And when they walked into the same store as Kaminari, he couldn’t help but pull a little recon to make sure that the alley cat wasn’t gonna hurt his best boy, right? Perfectly normal and justifiable, right?

“Yeah, it just sounds like you’re stalking them.” Sero sounded amused and tinny on the other end of Kaminari’s phone. He must have accidentally fried the speakers last time he had to give his phone a little extra juice; he’d have to ask Jirou to look at it. In the meantime, he made a irritated noise at Sero, peeking around a shelf so he could see Bakugou and Kirishima. They were standing close, hidden away together in the corner, Kirishima talking about something and gesturing wildly. Bakugou wasn’t looking at him, the picture of inattention, but through a semester of parsing Bakugou’s facial expressions, he knew this was about rapt at he ever got.

“ . . . besides, if you keep talking about Kirishima like that I’m going to get jealous,” Sero said, teasingly. Kaminari made a scoffing noise, creeping an aisle closer. They hadn’t noticed him, seemingly in their own little world. Kirishima grabbed something off of the shelf they were standing in front of and held it in front of Bakugou, whose eyes dropped down to look at it for a second before going up to Kirishima’s eyes. He smirked a little bit, and while Kirishima didn’t miss a beat, his smile widened, pleased.

“Dude. You know you are also best bro and boy, but you can handle yourself,” Kaminari pointed out, and he could imagine Sero shrugging in agreement. If Kaminari was being honest, Sero would probably survive better than any of the rest of them in The Real World™ with his dry wit and ability to pierce through bullshit. Kaminari, Kirishima, Ashido? All of them were way too gullible. Sero was the mom friend out of pure necessity.

Although, the way Kiri was, if he hadn’t constantly been too busy trying to singlehandedly mom-friend the biggest problem-child-friend, he’d probably take over for Sero. He was the co-mom-friend now at any rate; he was pretty bad at getting himself into reckless situations, but he herded the rest of them along like they weren’t also super powered individuals. Granted, Kiri was impervious to most damage, but that like, so was not the point.

“Besides, this is Bakubro and Kiri we’re talking about,” Kaminari stressed, ducking his head when Bakugou turned his head to glance around the store. He waddled down the aisle, trying to keep low so he could swoop in closer. He wasn’t very good at stealth, and he found himself wishing that Jirou was here; she would have been able to hear the pair from the otherside of the room. Kaminari, however, had to get in close like regular people.

“Exactly,” Sero laughed, and Kaminari knew immediately he didn’t get it. “They’ve been friends for a while now. Why are you following them anyway?”

“I wasn’t! I was getting some snacks and they just walked in! Together!” Kaminari insisted, and Sero hummed across the line, clearly not taking Kaminari’s words at face value. He sighed inaudibly at Sero’s inability to get it, and glanced around the rack to judge where he was now from his targets.

He was a little closer. Close enough that he could hear Kirishima’s intonations just over the tinny background music playing in the store. He still couldn’t make out the words, but he could tell by the rise and fall of his voice that he was riled up. Bakugou had abandoned the pretense of staring at the wall to settle for looking at Kirishima’s face as it oscillated between expressions, going from excited to serious to chagrin. Kirishima was a particularly expressive person, and even Kaminari couldn’t blame Bakugou for watching him. The look on his face had slipped, and instead of smirking . . .

Was he smiling? Oh god, the horror.

“ . . . and they’ve been doing these study sessions for a while,” Sero was finishing when Kaminari finally tuned into what he was saying. He wondered for a moment what he had said before shaking it off. He doubted it was very important; Sero didn’t grasp the importance of protecting Kirishima. Instead, he ducked behind the aisle again, intent on getting closer.

“Dude, he’s smiling,” Kaminari said over the line, following Kirishima’s voice. He was glad that the store was mostly empty, or the way he was ducking behind the aisles probably would have attracted attention and blown his cover. The cashier wasn’t even paying attention to them - couldn’t even see Kirishima and Bakugou with the way the store was organized - and was instead idly flipping through a magazine.

“Kirishima smiles all of the time,” Sero said, confused. Kaminari clicked his tongue in frustration. He was starting to be able to make out some of the words that Kirishima was saying, so he stayed low and poked his head around the aisle to look at them.

“I didn’t mean him,” Kaminari said, hushing his voice into a whisper. If he got caught now, he’d certainly be exploded in the face and exposed to Kirishima’s disappointed looks. He honestly didn’t know which was worse: the overwhelming physical pain of having an explosion applied directly to the forehead, or the crushing emotional pain of being exposed to Kirishima’s puppydog eyes.

“ . . . oh shit, really? That’s . . . wow.” Sero was clearly speechless, which meant maybe he was catching up to speed, finally. Kaminari let him process that, analyzing how the two boys in the corner were standing. They had drifted closer together, their shoulders almost bumping together. Kaminari felt fear grip his chest - what if he actually bumped into Bakugou? He’s best bro would be dead. Kirishima swung his head up, and the momentum made him close the gap. They were so close, their faces were only like three inches away from each other. Kirishima seemed to realize immediately how dire of a situation he was in; he stuttered to a stop, his eyes widening noticeably. His face flushed, and the pulled away from Bakugou, sputtering words as he tried to change the subject. When he looked away, Bakugou smiled again.

“Is it like, a bloodlust smile?” Sero asked, his voice hushed too like they’d be able to hear him. Kaminari squinted so he could analyze the smile, tilting his head and leaning closer. To tell what smiles mean, you can’t really look at the actual smile. It’s the eyes that are important. Bakugou’s (‘smiles’) were usually accompanied by squinting with glowing embers of hatred or wide-eyed inferno of pride. But . . . this one?

He smile was small, just barely curling his lips, but his eyes were half-lidded, and they were warm, like the fireplace in at your grandmother’s house. You just wanted to sit in front of it and bask. It was like he was looking at something precious, in both the adorable sense and valueless sense. And. . . that was on Bakugou’s face?

What the fuck?

“It’s fond,” He breathed, and Sero sucked in a shocked gasp. Kirishima’s voice had quieted down, so Kaminari had no choice to press forward. He didn’t want to get closer, if he was being honest; Bakugou’s look was almost hypnotizing and Kaminari’s entire body was screaming at him to run in the opposite direction.

“ Dude,” Sero breathed in his ear, and Kaminari could relate to the intense sense of disbelief in his voice. He was only a few rows over now, and he didn’t dare to get closer. Conveniently, the cashier had turned the music down, so he could hear them better. Kirishima was rambling about something, but his voice was nervous, a little panicked. It was the breathy sort of nervous, the kind where you sound like you can’t quite catch your breath. Kaminari would be nervous around Bakugou, but he didn’t think he had ever heard Kirishima be nervous around him.

“What if Bakugou is in love with him?” Sero offered nonchalantly, and Kaminari choked.

“Dude, can Bakugou even love ?” He asked, and Sero snorted. The aforementioned blond reached up and touched Kirishima’s shoulder and he almost gave himself whiplash to turn around and look at Bakugou. He blushed again, his mouth parting slightly and his eyes dropped. Kaminari followed his gaze and he realized that Kirishima was staring at Bakugou’s lips.

Wait.

“Is there anyone around?” Bakugou rumbled, and Kaminari could just barely hear him from where he was. Kirishima glanced around the store, and Kaminari slinked closer to the ground so he wouldn’t be spotted. Luckily, Kirishima seemed to be panicking because he barely even glanced in Kaminari’s direction.

“No,” Kirishima said, his voice hoarse. He swallowed, and Kaminari could see his throat bob from here. Bakugou nodded slightly, and he leaned into Kiri until their faces were a few inches apart. When Kirishima’s mouth opened slightly, Bakugou’s eyes immediately dropped down to them. Kaminari’s heart started to race.

“I want to kiss you,” Bakugou said, to Kaminari’s surprise. He said it like it was a statement, but he could hear the question in it. Can I? Bakugou never seemed to kind of guy to ask permissions for things like that, but here he was. He was still crowding Kirishima, still very much so in his space, but he wasn’t pushing over that line without Kirishima’s permission.

“Okay,” came the permission, and Bakugou didn’t waste any time closing the gap. Bakugou’s hand came up to card through the hair at the back of his neck, and Kirishima clutched at his arm, his grip so hard his fingers went white. It clearly wasn’t their first kiss, not by the way Kirishima moved naturally with Bakugou, not by the way their lips slide together and Kirishima immediately followed it with another kiss, not by the way that Bakugou caught Kirishima’s bottom lip with his teeth when he pulled away at one point, and the next time they brought themselves together Kirishima opened his mouth to let Bakugou’s tongue snake in. Kirishima’s other hand came up to fist in Bakugou’s hair, pulling him deeper, and Bakugou’s extra arm looped around Kirishima’s waist and pulled their bodies flush.

It was, from an objective point of view, one of the most aesthetically pleasing kisses that Kaminari had ever seen.

Bakugou and Kirishima were both very attractive people; Bakugou in that way that bad boys were, with rough edges and a hint of danger, and Kirishima with his warm personality and pretty face. It was a classic combination, like sweet and sour. Literally. So that was already a benefit. However, they both kissed like they were naturals, like they breathed making out. Their bodies moved unconsciously and there wasn’t any awkward teeth clashing or drool or tongue choking. It was kinda hot, if Kaminari was being honest.

And that made him very uncomfortable.

Feeling like his entire body had blushed, Kaminari backed away from the couple in the corner and left the store as quickly and quietly as he could. Once he got out of the store, he practically ran down the block until he could turn the corner and pretend that he was never anywhere near the store. His brain was in a haze, like he had gone into whey mode.

“KAMINARI!” He heard distantly, and he turned around in a daze before he realized that it was coming from the phone in his hand. He lifted it up to his ear, Sero’s concerned voice barely reaching his brain.

“Dude they just made out in the back of a store,” Kaminari rushed out, and Sero’s voice immediately cut off. The bubble of discomfort he had felt rose up until it was squeezing in his throat and abruptly burst.

“Bakugou Katsuki just put his tongue in our baby boy’s mouth!” He shrieked, which startled a laugh out of Sero and earned Kaminari a few strange looks from passersby. Equally as hysterical, he continued, “And it was hot!”

“Dude, what the hell?” Sero choked out over the phone through his laughter, and Kaminari threw his other hand in the air in exasperation.

“Exactly! They shouldn’t look that good together! Bakugou is going to tear our precious boy’s heart out and explodokill it! It should be difficult to look at!” He continued yelling, and Sero was actually having difficulty breathing over the phone.

“Okay, first, stop talking about Kirishima like he’s our son,” He managed to get out, and Kaminari violently shrugged his shoulders in way of responding. Sero seemed to understand though. “Second, I don’t see the big deal if they’re like, dating or whatever. Why does it bother you if they look good together?”

“Because they shouldn’t,” Kaminari insisted, and he could practically see Sero’s eyeroll. “They’re both hot, yeah, but Kirishima dating Bakugou is like sending a tiny kitten into a lion’s den!”

“You said Bakugou’s smile looked fond, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe the lion likes the kitten, though,” Sero pointed out and Kaminari sputtered, because, du, the lion liked the kitten, it just stuck it’s tongue into the kitten’s mouth! But then, he got Sero’s point and he ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

“I’m just worried for him, dude. I don’t know if Bakugou can be gentle, you know?” He said. Kirishima deserved that kind of love, where the lover would shower him in compliments and gifts and affection. He was a national treasure, damnit, and he deserved to be treated the way Nic Cage would treat him. Sero snorted on the other end, bringing Kaminari out of sentimental thoughts.

“I think Kirishima can handle it a little rough -”

“Ew, dude, not what I meant!”

“You were the one that just said you thought their kissing was hot.”

“I meant he didn’t seem love-dovey, like what Kirishima deserved!” Sero laughed again and Kaminari groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. Why did he try to ever talk seriously to Sero? Sero was incapable of taking anything seriously, even worse than Ashido or Kaminari himself. Then again, he couldn’t exactly talk to Kirishima, who’d he usually talk to about things like this, about it.

“You know,” Sero started again, sounding strangely subdued. Kaminari blinked and pressed the phone tighter to his ear. Was Sero about to prove his entire previous thought process wrong by actually being serious about things? “It isn’t really up to us what Kirishima deserves. He knows Bakugou better than the rest of us - obviously - so he can probably make a more informed opinion about whether or not he can handle a relationship with Bakugou.”

Kaminari blew his bangs out of his face. “I hate the whole autonomy argument.”

Sero laughed again, and Kaminari felt the tension drain away from him. Sero was right, because of course he was. Kirishima was his own man, he could fall in love with any spiky haired delinquent he wanted to. It didn’t mean that Kaminari wouldn’t worry of course! He’d always worry about his best boy, but freaking out about it was a little silly.

“It was kind of inevitable though, wasn’t it?” He said into the phone. Sero didn’t talk for a second, and Kaminari could tell that he was thinking.

“Yeah, I mean. With Kiri’s obsession with delinquents and all things manly and the fact he is like, the only person Bakugou doesn’t constantly look pissed to be around, it makes a lot of sense. You should have seen them during the cavalry battle, dude, it was like Mina and I weren’t even there.”

“Do you think he’s gonna tell us about it?” Kaminari asked, and he knew he was being pouty. Maybe he wouldn’t freak out about this development, but he could still be unhappy about it.

“Maybe? We don’t know how serious it is, and you know he’s always been cagey about his sexuality. I think he’s so far in the closet he doesn’t even realize that you’re bi, and you hit on him on like, a daily basis,” Sero said, and Kaminari sighed, because that was true. Kaminari hit on most people on a daily basis, so it wasn’t a big deal but he could tell that Kirishima never took him seriously. It kind of made him sad that Kiri thought he couldn’t trust them with his secret, but then again, he remembered how much shit he got when he came out in middle school.

“You okay dude?” Sero asked, and Kaminari shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just worried you know?” He said, and Sero chuckled again.

“Want to come over, get your mind off of the fact that our son is dating?” Sero said, and Kaminari sulked for a little bit.

“Yeah, I’ll start heading that way.”

Chapter Text

The Wild Wild Pussycats, in preparation of hosting 40 first-year students under constant threat of villain attacks, set up an alarm system to warn them when any of the windows or doors opened after curfew. This alarm, unfortunately, was the loud shrilling kind that made you want to bang your head against something until your liquefied brains leaked out of you ears. And it went off every. Time. A. Door. Opened.

Including when students were going to the bathroom after curfew, or each time that one of the remedial students staggered to bed after bathing, not having the sense of mind to enter the rooms as a group. All because they were awful people and they were going to be awful, inconsiderate heroes and Aizawa wished he had just expelled everyone at the beginning of the year.

They were going to take turns keeping watch. Seven days, six heroes. Aizawa, who was used to the sleep deprivation and long hours, had volunteered to take the last shift. He regretted that now. He regretted it so much that he thought that he might just get up and leave, disappearing into the forest to never be seen again. He was not a super recognizable hero, he could do it. He could just disappear and build a cabin somewhere in the middle of the Japanese wilderness. He’d never have to deal with cocky first-years, or Ms. Joke, or the kind of bullshit that only teenagers could get up to ever again.

He was fantasizing about what his cabin would look like - blackout curtains everywhere; no, actually, no windows - when the alarm went off again. At first, Aizawa ignored it, because there was a chance that it was just another wandering student. Then, a few minutes later, it went off again. And then again. And then again. And then again.

And Aizawa really, really wanted to be the type of person to ignore his responsibilities. He really, really wanted it, wanted it so bad that the want lanced painfully through his body. But, sadly, his old hero heart (and the part of him that really cared about his students) told him that the alarm going off five times within the span of ten minutes when most of his students should have been asleep really was too many. So, he stood, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and went to check on his kids.

He came to the girls’ room first. It was easy to check up on them; they slept on their own futons (Well. Ashido always liked to be different) which were neatly lined up together. It was a gamble if Hagakure was there or not; it looked like part of the blanket was covering a body, but that meant she otherwise slept naked and he didn’t want to deal with that knowledge right now. Aizawa considered putting their cards up for them, but then he remembered that there was a chance some of his students were missing, so he ignored than pang of sentimentality.

The boys’ were . . . not like that. He’d swear that when he was a teenager he wasn’t as messy as these boys were, but if he asked Hizashi, he’d probably disagree. He clicked his tongue, and started the arduous mental tally of the boys in his class. He was thinking that he might have to give Midoriya, Todoroki, and Iida extra credit at some point for actually managing to sleep on their own futon. He had to check every seemingly random lump or pile of pillows because it might contain a wayward boy, snoozing peacefully in his chaotic bed. He lost a little respect for his students that night if he was being honest, but he did discover that he was, in fact, missing two of his students.

Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki.

Alone, he might not have been surprised that it was one of the two of them that had gotten up in the middle of the night. Kirishima and Bakugou seemed to both be the type that would jet off despite the hour to do something obnoxious like take a walk. However, both of them, together? He guessed they could have been friends - Kirishima seemed to be friends with everyone in class - but then again Bakugou didn’t really seem to do friends. Especially not people like Kirishima, who were loud and cheery but not entirely authentic about their enthusiasm; Bakugou seemed the type to push away people like that. But, then again, ever since USJ they seemed to have started to get closer, especially after the cavalry battle. Aizawa made it a point to not pay too much attention to his students’ personal affairs, but even he noticed when Bakugou stopped calling Kirishima some derogatory nickname and instead referred to him by his actual name.

But still. Who dragged who out in the middle of the night, why the other person, and why now? What were they doing?

Since it seemed to really just be two rogue students, Aizawa considered just leaving them be. He didn’t really care if they were out past curfew - if they wanted to be sleep deprived the next morning, so be it - as long as they weren’t hurting themselves or each other, but then it occurred to them that they could have been hurting each other. That certainly would explain why Bakugou agreed to go, if a fight was involved. That kid needed to get a hobby, or a girlfriend or something. Just, he needed to chill out.

So, with a heavy sigh, Aizawa left the boys’ room to venture into the cool air outside. The wind was blowing soft but steady, pushing around stagnant summer air and making the night a little on the cold side. For a summer night, at least. The sky was clear, and this far away in the middle of nowhere, Aizawa liked to believe that he could have counted every star in the sky. If he didn’t have monitoring duty, he would have dug his sleeping bag out and found a nice place to camp out and fall asleep to the crickets and starry sky. Unfortunately, however, he couldn’t just enjoy the night - he had rascally boys to gather.

He didn’t really know where to go, so he just headed towards the woods. It seemed like the first place they’d be, if they had been trying to hide. The stillness meant that they probably weren’t fighting, but Aizawa was out here already so he might as well yell at some students. He wouldn’t say he enjoyed scaring his kids exactly, but there was a certain thrill to it that he wasn’t quite able to get anywhere else. Bakugou wouldn’t be scared of him, but watching him trying to keep his lid on was pretty funny in itself, so Aizawa figured that it evened out.

He walked through the woods for a little while, treading silently so he wouldn’t give himself away before he was ready. He kept his senses trained on the surroundings around him - on every rustle of leaves, every gust of wind - in case they would give hints to his students whereabouts. The walk was actually kind of relaxing, and the silence was a welcome change to the blaring alarm. Nonetheless, he had a job to do, and waltzing around the woods was, strangely, not in it’s description.

Eventually, he noticed some muffled sounds. He froze, straining his ears, and eventually it came again. He wasn’t close enough to really make it out coherently, but it was definitely the sounds of someone trying to keep quiet but not quiet helping it. He couldn’t really figure out what the exclamations were; they weren’t actual words (Although Aizawa could occasionally make out Kirishima’s voice murmuring something) but it was more than just normal breathing. It sounded like some sort of noise being strangled out before it could meet fruition.

Regardless of what it was, he could make out Kirishima’s voice and the other noises sounded vaguely like Bakugou, so he headed in their direction. He had walked past them as some point, to his embarrassment. They must have been quieter then than they were now, and once again Aizawa wondered what they could be doing. He heard Bakugou’s voice then, close enough for him to hear it’s tone but not close enough to actually make out the words. He sounded impatient and insistent, almost petering out into a whine.

He heard another series of those strangled noises, this time Kirishima joining in. Something about the noises sounded funny, and Aizawa suddenly felt the urge to turn around and walk away, but he was so close that he could hear skin slap against skin - were they sparring?

But no, that slapping was a little rhythmic, and Aizawa felt dread pool in his stomach. He didn’t get paid enough for this, god damnit. He should have just stayed in the cabin. He did not get paid enough to listen to his students having -

“You feel so good, babe,” He heard Kirishima coo, and Aizawa headed back to the cabins post haste.

He doesn’t even really register the alarm going off twice consecutively about twenty minutes later, knowing automatically that it was the two boys returning. He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night, just staring at the wall, processing the fact that he now knew what it sounded like when Bakugou was trying not to moan, which was something he could have done eight lifetimes over without ever needing to know. Well, at least, that explained why Bakugou even agreed to go on a midnight excursion.

If Aizawa was a little rougher the next morning with Kirishima than he needed to be, well, he had his excuses.

Chapter Text

To say that Todoroki Shouto was bad with emotions would be an understatement.

It was okay, he knew it. He wouldn’t be offended.

He knew exactly why he was like this, too. He spent the last ten years of his life stuffing every emotion he felt into a box reinforced with the hatred he had for his father and his ideals until there was nothing left but cold indifference. He had thought that he was managing fine during that time; he had good grades, was considered extremely powerful, and even got in to the most prestigious hero school in Japan by recommendation. He was alive and he hadn’t had a psychotic break like his mother, so he didn’t think he was doing too badly, cold-hearted or not.

Then he met Midoriya.

And realized that maybe he wasn’t fine.

But, life-changing revelations aside, he still hadn’t gotten a chance to really envelope himself in a plethora emotions yet. Being around Midoriya and Iida, along with the relationships he had with his other classmates, had helped him get further than he probably would have by himself, but the depth of his inexperience was still massive. He was bad at acknowledging his own feelings, but he was even worse with even recognizing them in other people. He knew there were nuances to everything, but most of the time he could only paint in broad strokes of sad, angry and happy.

It left something to be desired when it came to interacting with others, if he was being honest.

But this was why, when he ran into Kirishima at that hospital, he didn’t know what to make of his expression. There was no way the other boy had slept that night; he moved languidly, each step lingering a second longer than they usually did, like he was hesitant to move forward, and his eyes were unfocused in his pale face. Deep inside the tiredness though, there was something deeper and more dangerous lurking, clinging to him like cobwebs.

Todoroki did recognize the way his eyes were shuttered with regret. It was too similar to his own to miss it.

He didn’t think it would be something that bothered him, at first. He didn’t mind Kirishima, but they weren’t really friends or anything and Todoroki had cast a very small net for those who he used his little emotional prowess on. Then, while they were walking in silence to visit their classmates, it started to grate on Todoroki. Kirishima was not a quiet person, never had been from Todoroki’s experience, but now he wasn’t making a single sound. It felt wrong, like somebody had taken a familiar painting and had subtly replaced something integral in it. It was nothing he could put his finger on, but it still jarred at his nerves.

He glanced at the redhead from the corner of his eye. Kirishima had his head bowed and he was chewing on his bottom lip. Todoroki wanted to paint him with the broad stroke of sad, wanted to make it easy on himself, but it still didn’t fit any better than when he had tried earlier. There was that regret, crisp and clear like a bolded word on an otherwise blank sheet of paper, but he didn’t understand what else it was. There was something along the edges, in the tightness of his eyes and the paleness of his skin, that looked like fear but Todoroki couldn’t understand what he’d have to be afraid off.

He wasn’t like Midoriya. He was bad with emotions, especially ones he was unfamiliar with. He didn’t know how to comfort Kirishima.

Yet, he felt like he still should try. He opened his mouth before he really knew what he was saying, and Kirishima had turned his curious eyes towards him before he had even realized that he had said anything at all. His brain stalled for a second, before he managed to lamely come up with, “Are you okay?”

“What?” Kirishima blinked owlishly at him, apprehension coloring his features. He opened his mouth to say something but the only noise to come out was a choked breath. He clicked his jaw shut, and when he blinked next his eyes looked a little shinier. Something in his expression changed, a flicker of heated determination.

“Are you okay?” Todoroki repeated, and then after a beat it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t have. What Kirishima had done there was give him a chance to change the subject, right? He was probably as uncomfortable with this conversation as Todoroki, and he remembered how frustrated he had been with Midoriya’s prodding and poking. Then again, he also knew how it helped him in the aftermath.

“Yeah man, why wouldn’t I be?” Kirishima said, frowning at the words like they tasted bad. It occured to Todoroki that he was lying, although if he was being honest he didn’t know why he reached that conclusion. The way Kirishima was looking at him now, he almost felt like he was being dared to argue.

Well, as the King of repressed emotion, he knew how unhealthy leaving all of that inside could be.

"You just seem very,” Todoroki searched for the words to explain how off Kirishima felt. ” . . . quiet. Withdrawn. It isn’t like you.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened and flickered to the side, looking a little like a caged animal. He refused to look back up at Todoroki, and Todoroki considered pointing out how unconvincing this response was. Kirishima shrugged in force nonchalance, and Todoroki was a little irritated. If you’re going to act like you’re okay, you shouldn’t be so obviously not.

“Like I said, why wouldn’t I be?” Kirishima asked, and it sounded like a joke, a rhetorical question. However, his voice was very small, almost resigned. He was dodging the question, quite simply, and a good friend would probably take the bait and leave Kirishima alone. Good thing Todoroki wasn’t his friend, then.

“Well,” he said, thinking for a moment. If Kirishima wanted to know why he wouldn’t be, Todoroki would list the reasons. “You and Bakugou seemed close -”

Kirishima finally looked back up at him, and Todoroki stumbled to a stop. He looked like he had just been punched in the gut. His next breath came out ragged and then he seemed to just collapse in on himself, tears filling his eyes and then spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, and Todoroki was at a loss.

The tears didn’t bother him - he was friends with Midoriya after all - but Kirishima was radiating such an intense feeling of despair that it almost knocked Todoroki off of his feet. He didn't understand what had just happened, and he felt guilt swirl deep in his chest, painting over all of organs until he was breathing regret. He hadn’t meant to go this far, hadn’t meant to cause this. He just got frustrated - he didn’t realize that Kirishima had been trying to keep his composure.

He hesitantly took a step forward and laid a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. Kirishima peeked up at him from behind his eyes, and in those red depths Todoroki was overwhelmed with the darkness within, his eyes burning from vicarious pain and sorrow. He breathed around the painful catch in his chest, and tried to focus on Kirishima in front of him. The other boy had never looked so small, his hunched shoulders shaking violently from trying to keep inside the intensity that Todoroki had glanced at. He was pulling tighter within himself, as if he could could physically force everything back inside.

They stood there for a few minutes in the uncomfortable stillness of the hospital hallway, feeling too exposed despite the fact they were alone, and all the while Todoroki was feeling utterly useless. He didn’t know what had inspired feelings that deep and tragic within Kirishima, but a part of him wanted to personally go out hunting for it. He understood Midoriya, suddenly, both his incessant need to help people and his constant worry about how other people were feeling.

Kirishima eventually managed to succeed in pulling himself back together, and he shook Todoroki off of him. His face hardened, the emotional facsimile to his quirk. It was almost impressive. Todoroki opened his mouth, not sure what he wanted to say, but he was interrupted by the sound of Yaoyorozu’s voice echoing through the silent hallway from an open door. Kirishima’s eyes flitted towards it, and Todoroki knew immediately that the conversation was over.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of anything when Yaoyorozu handed over the tracking device, just some sort of vague satisfaction that the police would be able to find Bakugou and another wave of regret that he hadn’t been able to stop this himself. But, then Kirishima was tugging at his sleeve, pulling him around the corner. His mouth was opening, and Todoroki could see his mind was racing.

“We could save him.”

The determined shine that was usually in Kirishima’s eyes reappeared, and if it wasn’t for his splotchy cheeks Todoroki would almost be able to wipe away the image of him sobbing silently in his hands. He found himself agreeing without really thinking about it, strangely feeling like he needed to protect this fragile positivity in Kirishima.

Not to mention his own wave of heat at the thought of fixing his mistake.

It wasn’t until later, when they had both gotten hungry and were eating, that it occured to Todoroki to wonder why he was convinced that Kirishima’s positivity was fragile. Well, aside from obvious reasons. He stared at Kirishima now, his eyes squinting like he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.

Kirishima was staring at the phone he had in his hand, idly chewing on the straw of his drink as he mumbled something about prices and models. He still looked tired, but the darkness had lifted some, and Todoroki didn’t know if it was because he was focused on something else or what. He tapped his fingers on the table and Kirishima glanced up at him, so he took the chance to speak.

“You seem to be in a better mood,” He said, and Kirishima blinked at him. Color sneaked back into his cheeks and he smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just have something to focus on,” He said, chuckling. He dropped his hand on the table and stared at it, his expression loosening. His weariness stood out even more in that moment, with heavy blinks and his lips twisted into a frown. “Nothing has really felt real since last night.”

“I understand that,” Todoroki said, stirring the food in his bowl aimlessly with his chopsticks, his appetite souring. The last few hours had been filled with the back and forth between them as they made plans for the rescue, but with the plans as settled as they could get them for now, they had both lapsed into silence. The mood had also calmed down, the original exhilaration of being able to finally do something settling for the reality that they had to wait for now.

Just in his field of vision, Todoroki noticed Kirishima clenching his fist and pulling it back into his lap. He glanced away from his food and back towards the redhead who had carefully schooled his expression. He could see determination in the hard ridge of his shoulders, but everything else was neutral. Todoroki sat a little straighter in preparation for Kirishima's next words.

“Todoroki,” He said, his voice quiet “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” He said. Kirishima’s controlled response was making him a little anxious, especially when he nodded a little and took a deep breath, trying to keep calm.

“I just. . . if something goes wrong, I wanted to have said this out loud at least once. To make it real,” He said, stalling. Todoroki nodded, although he didn’t really understand what Kirishima was talking about. He looked up then and made eye contact with Todoroki for a second, almost defiantly, before he lost his nerve and looked back into his lap.

“I’m in love with Bakugou,” He said, and his voice was so quiet it took a second for Todoroki to understand.

“Oh,” he said, because he hadn’t been expecting that. His mind blanked on how he should respond to that news. Todoroki didn’t really get love. He doesn’t know if he’s ever actually seen romantic love that wasn’t fictional. He can’t say he understood Kirishima’s tastes, but he didn’t really have an opinion either way. “Congratulations?”

That startled a laugh out of Kirishima, and the tension in the air melted away with the sound. Todoroki smiled, confused, but relieved that he hadn’t offended Kirishima. A weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, and Todoroki wondered why that had been so heavy for him to admit.

“Congratulations? That’s it?” He barked out between his laughter, and Todoroki shrugged.

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Why, or are you insane or . . .” Kirishima’s smile turned a little bitter, and he scratched at the back of his neck again. “Or that there was something wrong with me. For being gay and in love with another boy.”

Todoroki’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why would I care about that?”

“I don’t know,” Kirishima said honestly, shrugging. “A lot of people do.”

“I don’t care that you’re gay, Kirishima,” He said, and Kirishima’s smile almost blinded him.

“Thanks! That’s the second best response I’ve ever gotten to telling someone!” He said, and Todoroki wondered how many people he’s told, if his response was the second best. He wondered what the worse was.

“What was the best?” He asked, instead, and Kirishima’s smile changed into a smaller one, but one that was more private. There was a glint in his eye, and Todoroki decided that this sort of happiness was a good look on him.

“When Bakugou found out he kissed me,” Kirishima said, and once again Todoroki was at a lost for how he was supposed to respond.

“Oh,” he said, and Kirishima laughed again. Todoroki smiled, and he thought back to earlier in the day. Kirishima’s reponse made more sense now. Him and Bakugou seemed close indeed. Todoroki wasn’t exactly the most astute person when it came to interpersonal relationships, but he didn’t think he ever would have expected them to be involved like that. He sobered though, when he thought more about the way Kirishima had broken down earlier in the day, and how this happiness felt warm but also fragile at the same time.

“Kirishima?” he asked, and the redhead turned his attention back towards him. “Are you okay?”

Kirishima blinked at him, surprised. The smile he gave following that was the smallest one, but it felt the most important to Todoroki.

“Ask me again, after we’ve saved him.”

Chapter Text

Even though it felt like a lifetime ago, she remembered the day that he came into her life like it was yesterday, everybody there unaware of the effect he would end up having on the Bakugou family. It had been one of those last crisp spring days, intertwining with summer so closely it was almost difficult to tell what season it was. When it was like that, Mitsuki always wanted to spend the day on their veranda, brainstorming new fashion designs and otherwise ignoring the outside world. Masaru and Katsuki knew better than to bother her when she was out there; there would be hell to pay if they interrupted her sessions. Some of her best work had comes from these spring days with their summer winds.

So when she had heard a knock against the veranda door and the sound of it sliding open, she had thought that surely there must have been some sort of emergency if the boys were willing to endure her wrath. Instead, when she had looked up with a scowl firmly on her face, she saw cherry red.

It had taken her a second to see past that tower of spikes and gel and to take in the picture as a whole. Leaning against the doorway had been Katsuki, his arms crossed and face pained, likely because he knew the consequences for interrupting Mitsuki time. Next to him, had been an unfamiliar boy who had owned that red tower of spikes and had been nervously standing in the doorway. Her first thought had been that his fashion sense was horrendous, a hodgepodge of textures and patterns. The second had been that she should try to convince him to model for her, because he had thick eyelashes framing wide eyes, impeccable bone structure, and a thin scar over his right eye that played up the dichotomy between his muscular body and sweet face.

“Hag,” Katsuki had started with a wince, his voice dry and begrudging, “This is Shitty Hair.”

She had opened her mouth to yell at Katsuki because, whether or not she agreed, that was extremely rude. However, the redhead had just smiled warmly and he had rolled his eyes with fond exasperation, as if the nickname had been an annoying habit that had become an inside joke. Knowing Katsuki, it probably was. She had slid her eyes from his face to Katsuki’s, an eyebrow raised in question, but he hadn’t been looking at her. His eyes had been fixed on the redhead’s face, his expression slack and eyes wider than he usually held them. A pale pink blush had been crawling up his neck, and she had then looked back at the other boy.

“I’m Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou-san,” He had introduced himself, bowing to her.

She wondered sometimes if Katsuki had realized how much he had revealed in that meeting; she wondered sometimes if Katsuki even realized that he had anything to reveal then.

Her eyes flit up to the rearview mirror of her car to glance at the boys in the backseat. They were curled against each other, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Eijirou had shifted in his sleep so that he was leaning against the door, Katsuki laying against his chest, his forehead pressed against the crook of Eijirou’s neck. When the streetlights bathed them in gold, she could see the way that their hands had dropped to the side, fingers intertwined so tightly that their knuckles were white despite the fact they had both dozed off. Eijirou’s other arm had curled around her son’s waist, and Katsuki had settled between his legs, one of his own thrown over and tangling with Eijirou’s. She couldn’t see Katsuki’s face, but Eijirou’s was more relaxed than it had been when he had fallen asleep before in the waiting room, reassured by Katsuki's chest was pressing against his own.

She didn’t know the extent of their relationship, and she doubted she ever would. Right now they were in their own world, and she was saddened by the fact that she’d eventually have to wake them up. She drove slowly for now, adding length to their already long drive and softening the bumps in the road.

It was hard to believe in the moment that Katsuki wasn’t a tactile person. He never really had been. While he had put up with hugs and kisses when he was a little kid, after his quirk manifested and he had accidentally burned his grandmother with his tiny crackles of explosions, he had refused all physical affection. Mitsuki and Masaru still tried for hugs, and when he was in a particularly good mood he might even let them get away with it. She had known how badly he needed comfort - although he never would admit it - after he had hugged her back in the waiting room and then wrapped himself around Eijirou so tightly it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended.

She was glad that Katsuki had found someone he felt he could be vulnerable with.

Mitsuki knew that she hadn’t been the best mother. She had Katsuki young and had gotten caught up in the vicarious thrill of having such a talented kid that she hadn’t realized she needed to temper his ego until it was too late. Her little boy, full of confidence and with stars in his eyes, had grown into an arrogant and sullen teenager. He had bent himself out of shape and rebuilt himself until he was nothing more than his goal and his quirk, no room for anything trival like happiness or friends or love or respect inside his bubble.

Mitsuki regretted a lot of things when it came to how Katsuki had turned out, but the fact that she hadn’t even noticed he had stopped smiling until it was far too late had been her biggest.

Eijirou had broken that bubble, though, back before she had even met him. She didn’t really know how their relationship had developed, although clearly they had been hiding something more for a while. She didn’t know if it been the mutual respect and admiration, or something more hormonal had been the catalyst. If it had been the chicken, or the egg.

She didn’t know when they had fallen in love, but she was certain it had happened at some point.

She knew that there were a lot of mothers that would be upset with the fact that their son was gay, or, at the very least, interested in another boy. Things that seemed important to them like  not having grandchildren and what other people would think just did not bother Mitsuki. Not when she could tell all the subtle ways that Katsuki had changed since he and Eijirou had met. How he had become a little less volatile at home, how he started smiling and laughing more. How Eijirou wasn't even the only person he talked about from school anymore. When she thought about how Eijirou and how he had put up with her punk ass kid, how he had loved him until he his rough edges started to smooth, she felt absolutely nothing but gratitude for him and happiness that they had found each other.

She wondered if Katsuki even realized he was in love with Eijirou. Probably not, if she knew her son. He had the truly awe-inspiring ability of compartmentalizing his feelings if he couldn’t use them to get closer to his goal. He probably didn’t even realize what love felt like, just thinking what he felt was a mixture of attraction and affection. She didn’t know why she was so convinced that their relationship was something deeper, more intimate, but that thought had been in her head for a while. It could have been much more shallower than she thought, this being just a moment of sentimentality in an otherwise emotionless affair.

However, she thought, glancing in the rearview mirror again, affection ballooning across her chest for the two boys. It looked pretty deep from here.

Chapter Text

To Sero Hanta, the best thing about living in a dorm with all of his friends was that it made it easier to organize movie-and-game nights. Movie-and-Game nights (named as such because despite whatever they start doing, they end up doing the other by the end) were one of Sero’s favorite things if he was being honest. It was awesome that they spent most of their time training to be heroes at the top hero academy, but sometimes it really was nice to just kick back and be teenagers, and Move-and-Game nights were the most efficient and relaxing way to do that.

“Man, I don’t know which one I wanna watch!” Kaminari wailed, dramatically flopping back onto his bed. They were sitting in his room, their combined movie collection spread between them (along with some pieces of paper representing digital titles) and trying to figure out tonight’s line up. Sero had already made his picks, but, well. Kaminari was a little more indecisive.

“Which one do you want to see dude?” He asked Sero. He leaned forward to take a look at the two movies, Doctor Strange and the latest Pirates of the Caribbean movie, in front of Kaminari, both represented by pieces of paper.

“I haven’t seen either, but I kinda want to see both,” Sero admitted, and Kaminari groaned again. He threw his arm over his eyes, and Sero looked on, amusement bubbling in his chest.

“Which one do you want to see more?”

“I don’t know,” Sero admitted, and when Kaminari groaned that time he laughed. The blond’s lips betrayed him, quirking up into a smile and ruining his otherwise dramatic pose. He pulled himself back up and stared down at that papers as if they had offended him. This was also nice, when it felt like their biggest problem in the world was that they couldn’t decide which movie they wanted to watch more. None of their friends were kidnapped, no villains were attacking them, and no one was in the hospital. They had provisionals to worry about, sure, but it seemed like almost child’s play compared to what they’ve had to deal with in the past.

“We need a tie-breaker,” Kaminari said, and Sero nodded in agreement. He looked up at him, his eyes narrowing.

“Kiri?”

“Kiri.”

“You go get him,” Kaminari said, flopping back down on his bed.

“Why me?” Sero protested. He was comfortable, he had a half dozen movies covering his lap, and also that meant moving and right now Sero was just not into that. Kaminari didn’t look like he was budging though, if the way he pressed down into his mattress was any hint, bringing his arm over his eyes again to block out the light.

“His bedroom is next to his boyfriend’s. I’m not getting my eyes molested by their physical affection again,” Kaminari said, his voice getting darker. Sero snorted and started to push the movies crowding him away.

“We don’t even know if they still, or ever were, dating,” Sero pointed out, because really all they (Kaminari) saw was one kiss. They were still friendly, Kirishima was still the only person completely impervious to Bakugou’s moods, but that didn’t really mean much. They weren’t overtly affectionate with each other and Kirishima never got around to telling them that there was ever anything between them in the first place. Which, ow. He understood where Kirishima was coming from, really, but they expected they sort of paranoia from Bakugou, not Kiri.

“You didn’t see it man,” Kaminari moaned, as if he was traumatized. “That was not a spontaneous first kiss!”

“Still doesn’t mean they were dating,” Sero insisted. He got out of the bed and stretched, his back popping, before smirking down at Kaminari. The blond moved his arm away from his eyes suspiciously, as if he could feel the weight of Sero’s look. “They could have just been fuck buddies.”

Kaminari’s face immediately blanched, every single one of his features shrivelling in disgust. Sero burst out laughing, and Kaminari sat up to throw a pillow at his head, his other arm holding his stomach like he was in pain. Sero snatched it out of the air before it hit him and he flung it back at the blond.

“Dude! Do not talk about our innocent son like that!” Kaminari shrieked. If Kirishima had been in his room, he probably would have heard him, which only made Sero laugh harder. He didn’t really get Kaminari’s disapproval of their relationship (beyond the obvious of their friend dating someone that violent and volatile) but he did like abusing it for the comedic value. Kaminari grabbed another pillow, his face contorting with anger now, and he danced out of the room before a pillow fight broke out.

Kirishima wasn’t the type to let himself get pushed around, so Sero had never been as concerned for his ‘virtue’ like Kaminari was. He also knew that, out of all of them, Kirishima had the best chance of doing something to Bakugou and surviving if Bakugou overstepped his boundaries. So he wasn’t super concerned about their relationship. Besides, he had also noticed that Bakugou had . . . well, not exactly softened or warmed up, but he was definitely different than when they had all met. Kirishima’s jokes about ‘Vintage Bakugou’ wouldn’t make sense otherwise, and Sero was pretty sure that Kirishima was like, at least 75% responsible for Bakugou starting to chill out just a little tinsy bit. Kirishima also seemed a little more buoyant these days, and a happy Kirishima was more valuable than The Louvre's entire collection, so he couldn’t really begrudge what brought that about.

Once he got to the fifth floor, he casually walked into Kirishima’s room without knocking. Once his mind got past the sensory overload of red and patterns and dear god why are you like this Kiri, he realized that no one was in the room. He blinked and glanced around, as if the flames curtains would suddenly spit him out, or if the punching bag would whisper his location to him. Sero really didn’t feel like walking all throughout the incredibly massive dorm complex to try and find him, so he turned around and prepared to go back to Kaminari’s room when he heard voices.

He glanced over and belatedly realized that Bakugou’s door was opened. Just a little bit, which made him think that the door had probably been slammed shut and had bounced back open instead of locking. He could hear Kirishima’s enthusiastic tone and Bakugou’s responding growl, but not much else; they were trying to keep quiet. And, well. Information gathering was an important part of being a hero, right? And if they were still dating then he’d have more ammo to use against Kaminari, and that would be hilarious, wouldn’t it?

Treading as silently as he could, he walked over to the door and kneeled down close to the ground and peaked his head around the edge. Idly he thought about the fact that he had never seen the inside of Bakugou’s bedroom - surprisingly plain, with a lot of dark colors and was that an All Might poster? - until his eyes fell on Bakugou’s bed, where him and Kirishima were intertwined.

Kirishima was leaning his shoulders against the headboard, his right leg pulled up and leaning against Bakugou, who was sprawled out between Kirishima’s legs, his head leaning against his arms which he had cushioned against the redhead’s stomach. His eyes were heavy-lidded and he was leaning into Kirishima’s hands, which were currently carding through Bakugou’s ash blond locks. Kirishima was smiling - Kirishima was always smiling - but this was a type that Sero had never seen. The physical smile was small, his lips pressed together, but his eyes just radiated with happiness. He was looking at Bakugou like he had hung the moon. The blond wasn’t exactly smiling, but Sero had never seen him more relaxed or with his guard just completely nonexistent like it was now.

He understood all at once what Kaminari had meant about them. It was very hard to reconcile the teenager who had been screaming ‘die!’ at rock formations during class and the one who was sprawled out over the redheaded ball of sunshine that was Kirishima, but at the same time the sight just made sense. They mixed together like a strawberry sundae, all sweetness and coldness.

He didn’t really have an opinion about whether or not it was hot.

“Are you coming to the Movie-and-Game night?” Kirishima asked, and Sero was snapped out his musings because wow, topical. Bakugou scoffed, and he barely sounded awake.

“The fuck would I go to that lameass thing?” He slurred, and wow, rude. Kirishima’s hands stilled where they were in Bakugou’s hair. When Bakugou blinked his eyes open so he could look up at Kirishima, the redhead glared at him. Bakugou’s eyes widened a little bit and then returned Kirishima’s glare. They continued their heated staring contest, and Sero was starting to be concerned. Kirishima was challenging the glaring King, and he was too stubborn to back down once he had started. Would they be stuck here forever, just glaring at each other?

Apparently not because Bakugou scowled and looked away and wow, Sero had not seen that coming.

Apparently pleased, Kirishima started petting Bakugou’s hair again, and the tension that had built in the blond’s shoulders started to ease out of him until he had melted back against Kirishima. It was fascinating to watch, and even if Sero hadn’t been a little voyeuristic at heart, he probably still wouldn’t have been able to look away. Bakugou closed his eyes and laid his head against his arms, showing his face a little more clearly to Sero.

“I’d be there,” Kirishima said after a second, and Bakugou snorted. Kirishima nudged him with his knee, and Bakugou responded by wrapping his arm around Kirishima’s thigh and locking it in place. Kirishima’s smile went kind of dumb, and he shook his head fondly at Bakugou.

“You really are like a cat, Kat-suki,” Kirishima giggled.

“What the fuck shithead, that isn’t even how you pronounce my name,” Bakugou snarled, his voice thick with sleep, and Kirishima started full out laughing. He’d miss it because of the way Bakugou’s head was turned, but Sero certainly saw the way that the blond’s lips quirked up at that sound.

Aw. He was smitten. Smitten Kitten Kat-suki.

“Dude, do it for me. Come tonight,” Kirishima said once he calmed down. Bakugou didn’t respond, but after a second he blinked his eyes opened, his gaze almost directly falling where Sero was, and Sero had never pulled away from anything that fast in his entire life. For a second, he couldn't breath, couldn’t think, just hear the way his heartbeat had suddenly jumped into his ears and feel panic rush through his body.

When he wasn’t immediately explodomurdered, his heartbeat started to slow. He was able to make out the noises of bed springs creaking as someone shifted their weight and the sound of clothing rustling. When Kirishima chuckled, low and warm, Sero’s curiosity pulled him back into the space between the door and the wall.

Bakugou had apparently climbed up Kirishima’s body while Sero had been panicking and he was now straddling Kirishima’s abdomen, one of his hands turning Kirishima’s head so the tanned flesh of his neck was bared and the other one tugging at the redhead’s shirt collar so his collarbone was exposed. Bakugou’s lips were skating across this expanse of skin, not lingering in any one place for too long that suggested that this was a practiced routine, which probably explained why neither of them ever had hickies. Kirishima’s face was amused, but slack with pleasure, and his hands were curling so tightly into the hem of Bakugou’s shirt that his fingers were going white. His breath was making little hitching noises, and Sero honestly didn’t know what to make of that.

“What are you doing?” Kirishima asked, his voice mostly being successful at staying steady. When your boyfriend was latched to your neck, that was pretty hard to do and Sero was proud of him.

“If I want to come tonight, it certainly ain’t gonna happen at some fucking movie night,” Bakugou growled, each word punctuated with a kiss to Kirishima’s pulse. And, you know, Sero never really considered what Bakugou would sound like when he was trying to seduce someone because he wasn’t a borderline sexual deviant like Kaminari, but it had never even occurred to him that Bakugou’s seduction repertoire would include fucking puns. 

“Movie-and-Game night,” Kirishima corrected automatically and Sero’s heart swelled because really, that redhead was a bro because he was currently getting necked by one of the hottest guys in class - Kaminari assured of him - and he still was defending his bros. Bakugou paused where he was, his hand sliding from Kirishima’s face to rest on his other shoulder. He pulled away, his face indescribable, and he just looked at Kirishima. The redhead grinned brightly at him, the kind of grin that was made from pure and unfiltered sunshine.

“Are you fucking serious,” Bakugou said, his voice a little weak. He, apparently, was not immune to the powers of Kirishima’s smiles. Kirishima only smiled a little wider, and he reached up to palm Bakugou’s jaw. Sero smirked a little, because the blond unconsciously leaned into it.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really fucking pretty?” Kirishima said, his voice fond and a little awed. Sero was then welcomed to (if you weren’t Kirishima) the once-in-a-lifetime sight of Bakugou blushing beet red. The blond snarled, and he shot forward to kiss the smile off of Kirishima’s face.

Kirishima’s eyes fluttered shut, and the hand holding Bakugou’s jaw slid into his hair as he kissed Bakugou back. It was a surprisingly chaste kiss, just a wet slide of lips, then a second, then a third, and then when Bakugou pulled back the fourth time, Kirishima’s lips parted and the kisses got a little messier. The redhead slipped down the headboard until he was laying against the mattress, Bakugou curled on top of him. When Bakugou’s tongue darted out to slide against Kirishima’s and his hand slid down the redhead’s side and started pushing up his shirt, Sero decided he had his voyeuristic fill and he pulled away, shutting the door as much as he could without the lock clicking shut.

He didn’t know if they would notice, but he didn’t want to risk it. Stretching his back out, he headed back towards the elevator. He wasn’t sure how long he had been gone, but Kaminari was definitely going to bitch at him. Unless, he thought, a shit-eating grin stretching across his lips, I shared what I had just witnessed first.

Once he was back on the fourth floor, he slipped into Kaminari’s room and quickly turned to close the door behind him. Unsurprisingly, Kaminari opened his mouth to complain before Sero had a chance to turn around and let him see his expression so he would have warning.

“Dude, it’s been like twenty minutes where the hell -”

“Bakugou Katsuki stuck his tongue into our little boy's mouth again! ” He announced with mock glee when he spun around, and Kaminari’s expression was so worth it. He immediately blanched, his eyes clouding over like he was having flashbacks of the war. He made a little horrified whimpering noise, and if Bakugou and Kirishima had been in Kiri’s bedroom, they probably would have heard the loud bark of laughter that came from Sero.

Until, of course, the other occupant of the room who Sero had not noticed sputtered ungracefully and said, “Again?”

Sero felt the blood drain from his face as he turned to face the other person. He hadn’t meant to out the boys, he had only meant to shock Kaminari. He fell to his knees and crawled up to the person, his hands clasped as if he was begging for forgiveness.

“OhGodIDidn’tSeeYouThere,” He rushed out in one breath. “I-think-they’re-keeping-it-a-secret-please-please-please-don’t-tell-anyone-or-say-anything-to-anyone-please-please!”

Jirou blinked at him, her eyes a little fuzzy too. She took a second to process the information, her mouth gaping open. She glanced between Sero and Kaminari and swallowed.

“You think? You don’t know?” She eventually asked, and Sero sat back on his haunches.

“Well, they haven’t exactly even told us about them, so we’re just assuming . . .” Sero shrugged, trailing off. He glanced over at Kaminari as if he could get backup, but the blond was still staring at the wall in horror. Sero sighed. He wished he could enjoy it.

“How do you know about them in the first place then?” She asked, and Sero glanced back at her. He opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted.

“Again,” Kaminari moaned weakly. Jirou blinked at him, and then glanced back at Sero with questions written all over her face.

“Kaminari caught them making out in a store a few months ago,” He explained, shrugging again. He then reached forward and grabbed Jirou’s hands, pressing them together and giving his best puppydog eyes. “Please, please don’t tell anyone. I just wanted to freak Kami out.”

Jirou blinked. She swallowed, and then nodded a little numbly, pulling her hands out of Sero’s grasp. She stared at the floor for a moment, as if she was processing a big change in her life. “Um, okay. Well, I think we should watch Doctor Strange.”

Sero sighed in relief. “Doctor Strange it is.”

It took Kaminari a half hour to come back to them, and later, when Kirishima (and Bakugou) stumbled down to join them in the common room, he let out a little squeal and curled into the fetal position in the couch, much to everybody else’s confusion. Sero and Jirou just exchanged knowing looks, and Sero couldn't help but laugh when Bakugou plopped down next to Kaminari and the Kami flinched.

Chapter Text

Hagakure Tooru liked the moments when dawn’s first shimmering rays of sunshine broke through the horizon, gilding the common room and breaking the ominous darkness into something warm, something intimate. These ephemeral moments in the morning, when the stillness was unbroken yet by her classmates and the world seemed to be nothing more than her and the sun, were Hagakure’s favorites. One of the little considered benefits of her quirk was that she could hide herself away and just be in the moment, the peace unbroken by even her existence.

And sometimes she could see Kirishima running in the morning and he usually ran shirtless like that his default state.

So, you know. Two beautiful sights at once.

She was curled in a corner of the couch waiting, wearing nothing but her blanket wrapped around her waist so she could disappear into the sunrise while also remaining considerate to her classmates. It was her daily routine, and the only other person who ever seemed to be awake this early was Kirishima. She didn’t think he noticed her; he was the type to say a loud and cheery hello absolutely regardless of the time or state he was in. So she was surprised when she heard the elevator open, because she had definitely already seen Kirishima run out.

Shocked wasn’t really the word to describe how she felt when a bleary Bakugou stumbled out, one of his hands curled loosely in a fist and rubbing at his eyes. Bakugou was notoriously not a morning person and on sundays it wouldn’t be surprising if he rose around noon. It was strange, seeing him like this; in a black tank top and sweatpants, with sleep heavy eyes and bedhead. He didn’t look like the indomitable beast of 1-A; he looked like just another sleepy teenager.

It was strangely comforting and Hagakure looked away so she’d catch the sunrise, strangely calmed by his presence and the privacy of the night.

There was a click from the kitchen, and when the stove light stretched into the common room and she heard cabinets being opened and shut she assumed that Bakugou was cooking breakfast. He had proven himself pretty adept in the kitchen, to Hagakure’s surprise, during the training camp - well, before everything had happened - and the appetizing smells that filled the room after several minutes was a good reminder of that fact. Between the coolness of the dorms, the smell of breakfast that reminded her of home, Bakugou’s quiet rumble of a voice when he cursed to himself, and the still night sky with it’s tiny pinpricks of starlight, Hagakure found herself beginning to drowse. She didn’t even notice Kirishima’s form, painted silver by the moonlight, as he jogged back up to the building.

“I didn’t think you’d actually wake up this early.” It was Kirishima’s voice that had broken her out of half-sleep state. His voice was quiet, barely a hushed whisper, but it sliced through the stillness of the common room like a hot knife. The sounds in the kitchen stilled for a second, and she turned towards Bakugou. The blond had turned his head to look over his shoulder at Kirishima. The stove light was behind him, outlining him in it’s artificial gold and throwing the rest of his face in shadows. It should have been intimidating, almost anything with the boy was, but instead it softened him. His ash blond hair glowed like a halo, and it made his face look vulnerable, open.

Or maybe, she thought, glancing over at Kirishima. Maybe it was him. He stood just behind her couch, the last wisps of the stove light catching the sweat that dripped down his abs, and the ambient light from the clear night outside catching the rest of him in a silver glow. It was a glorious sight, if Hagakure was being honest. His hair fell down just above his shoulders and his bangs had worked their way out of his sweatband and plastered themselves against his forehead. His eyes and smile were warm and fond, and Hagakure had the sudden feeling that she was interrupting something intimate, because there was no way that the look on his face was meant for more than one person.

Another underutilized use of her quirk: People-watching in their most private moments.

“I fuckin’ told I would, didn’t It?” Bakugou said gruffly, his voice still sleep-coarse. He stepped away from the stove and threw something at Kirishima, which the redhead caught easily without looking away from the blond. He laughed fondly, and slipped the shirt over his head, depriving the world of his beautiful physique. A travesty.

Bakugou turned back to the stove and Kirishima, apparently having his fill of staring at Bakugou, started walking towards the kitchen. Hagakure had wondered about their relationship before; they were friends - or, they were in as much as Bakugou had friends, but she never understood how they worked exactly. In class, they fought well together and their quirks were complementary and she knew they ate lunch and studied together and she knew about the rescue, but still. It was hard to imagine them interacting much outside of the teasing they did in class. She was excited to see more.

“You know that I’m going to have to change in a little bit anyway, right?” Kirishima said, pausing for a second at the countertop. Bakugou didn’t say anything for a second, the sound of a spatula scraping against a pan filling the silence.

“It was one of the ones you left on my bedroom floor,” Bakugou explained, and, oh. Maybe they weren’t friends then.

Kirishima chuckled and moved behind Bakugou to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s waist, his chin resting on one of the blond’s shoulders. Well, that settled that. Hagakure honestly didn’t know if she was surprised; on one hand, it was jarring (and a little upsetting that he was the first in the class) to think that Bakugou was in romantic relationship because that required things like communication and affection and another human being, but on the other, Kirishima had literally been following Bakugou around like a puppy for the last month, was obsessed with all things ‘manly’ which Bakugou apparently was, and had an irresistibly sweet face. Even if Hagakure had no interest in dating him (his room, dear God) she still wasn’t surprised that he could get even Bakugou’s heart.

“You’re fucking sweaty,” Bakugou grumbled, but he didn’t move out of the embrace. In fact, he seemed to melt into it, his shoulders leaning back into Kirishima’s. Kirishima tilted his head, and Hagakure could tell that he was trying to make out Bakugou’s face.

“Sorry. You haven’t pushed me away though,” He pointed out, the corner of his mouth that Hagakure could see twitching into a smug grin.

“You’re early,” Bakugou said, deliberately changing the subject. Kirishima moved with Bakugou’s body as the other boy cooked, like a heavy coat, and Hagakure wanted to laugh. It was kind of adorable.

“What do you mean?” Kirishima murmured directly into, from what it looks like, Bakugou’s ear. She didn’t think she was imagining the way his shoulders tensed up afterwards.

“You like to see the sunrise, don’t you? Before you come back? Always fucking going on about how beautiful it is.”

“It is,” Kirishima agreed before pulling his head away from Bakugou’s shoulder, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around him. “But I have a more beautiful sight right here.”

The sounds in the kitchen immediately stopped and Bakugou pulled away to stare at him. She didn’t know if it was the heat in the kitchen or what, but Bakugou definitely looked like he was blushing.

“You’re such a fucking sap in the morning,” Bakugou sputtered, but he didn’t sound annoyed, just flustered. She could definitely see the grin that spread across Kirishima’s face then, and Bakugou made vaguely disproving noises and shook Kirishima off of him. Kirishima laughed quietly, and let go of Bakugou and leaned against the counter

“Don’t tell me you woke up even earlier so you could interrupt my cooking,” Bakugou growled after a second.

“Nah, I cut my run short. I couldn’t help myself.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Sap.”

“You love it.”

Bakugou didn’t deny it. Instead, he suddenly seemed very interested in what he was cooking, and Hagakure smiled a little. As hard as it was to imagine Bakugou being in a relationship, the way they were they interacted seemed completely natural. She wondered how long they had been dating; neither of them seemed uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between them or with the fact that Kirishima’s eyes were latched to Bakugou’s every movement.

“I don’t like -” Bakugou started suddenly, interrupting the silence. Kirishima’s eyes darted up to Bakugou’s face, and Hagakure expected him to say something, but he just waited expectantly. She couldn’t see Bakugou’s facial expression, but she wish she could.

“I don’t like you going on these runs,” Bakugou finished eventually, his voice soft and torn. Kirishima smiled reassuringly at him.

“I gotta keep my training up, babe,” Kirishima said. Bakugou’s shoulders tensed again, and his movements when he leaned over to turn the stove off were jerky and aggressive.

“I know that you fitness-obsessed fucker,” Bakugou bit out, his voice sounding raw and angry,” but you’re so busy with that damn internship you’re forgetting to fucking eat enough and you already aren’t getting enough sleep, and you’re gonna to burn out and -”

“Katsuki!” Kirishima called out, reaching over to grab the blond’s shoulders. He forced Bakugou to face him and then the blond’s face was lit in the stove light. Hagakure was shocked by the frustrated look of concern twisting his face, like he was upset that he was worried about Kirishima. Him being awake this early suddenly made sense.

Kirishima smiled soft and stepped forward to pull Bakugou into a hug. The blond’s hands twitched for a second like he was considering exploding Kirishima, but then wrapped his arms tightly around the redhead, his face still etched with his angry brand of concern.

“I’m okay. I can handle it,” Kirishima said softly, his hand rubbing circles into Bakugou’s back. The blond glared at the wall in front of him for a second longer, but then he buried his face in the crook of Kirishima’s neck and his shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath.

“I know,” He muttered, still sounding frustrated. Kirishima smiled, and squeezed Bakugou tightly before pulling away. His smile grew lopsided as he looked at Bakugou, who was glaring holes in the floor.

“I didn’t know you worried so much,” Kirishima joked, and Bakugou’s head shot up to stare at him. His eyes narrowed, and Hagakure thought for a second he was about to be yelled at.

“Of fucking course I worry,” He scoffed, and then turned away to plate the food he had cooked. Kirishima grinned sappily at him, as if he had never been this happy in his entire life. She couldn’t exactly blame him - he had a hot (if explosive) boyfriend who worried enough about his health to wake up early to cook him breakfast. She would kill for that, if she was being honest.

“Katsuki, I love -” Kirishima suddenly blurted out. He trailed off, staring at the plates of food like his brain had just shut down. Bakugou turned to look at him curiously and Kirishima blinked, his brain apparently rebooted. “I love this food, how did you know?”

If Bakugou noticed how rushed Kirishima’s words had been, he didn’t say anything. He just glanced down at the food and shrugged. He placed the plates on the breakfast bar and went to wash the dishes that had accumulated while he cooked.

“You’re pretty fucking obvious about your tastes,” He said, and Kirishima’s laugh was a little stilted. Bakugou looked at him weirdly but he didn’t say anything. Kirishima’s forced smile collapsed into genuine gratitude, and when he wrapped his arms around Bakugou from behind again, his forehead leaning against the nape of the blond’s neck, Hagakure couldn’t help but feel her heart go out towards the poor redhead. She had a feeling that Bakugou would reciprocate the feelings if Kirishima had just told him, but she understood being there, too scared to make that leap and change things from a casual relationship to a serious one. They were just kids after all; being in love, giving yourself so entirely to another person, was scary.

“What were you going to do if I wasn’t awake?” Bakugou asked conversationally after a moment.

“I don’t know, I was thinking of just showering and crawling into your bed where it was warm.”

Bakugou snorted and shifted in Kirishima’s arms so he could see the redhead out of the corner of his eye. He ruffled Kirishima’s hair with one of his hands, and Kirishima pulled his head away from the blond so he could see him.

“How about,” he started, his hand sliding out of the Kirishima's hair to trace the line of his jaw, his eyes on the redhead’s lips. “We eat and then do that, then?”

Kirishima smiled widely. “That would be great, babe.”

Dawn started creeping her fingers into the room just as Bakugou leaned forward to catch Kirishima’s lips, painting their backs in soft shades of gold. Their kiss was lazy, tender, the kind more about the affirmation of feelings than about kissing. Figuring that she should give the boys their privacy, she carefully folded her blanket below her so she could stand and sneak upstairs. When she passed them, she couldn’t help but glance back at the gentle way their lips met and their bodies curled into each other while the sunrise painting them in soft and brilliant shades. 

Chapter Text

As intimidating as the first year - Kirishima - had been when he had approached Amajiki, he didn’t really mind him all that much. He was much too optimistic, way too sunny, but he had a very heroic heart and in the end, he reminded Amajiki a lot of Mirio. Amajiki, as a rule, was usually fond of things that reminded him of Mirio.

However, right now, the way the first year was acting was making Amajiki think there might be exceptions to that rule.

They were in Fatgum’s agency, having headed to his Hero Agency after the meeting to talk over a few things. Mirio had said that he wanted to Amajki to wait for him there, and Kirishima had needed to borrow the faculties, so currently all three of them were sitting in Fat’s office.

Well, Amajiki and Fatgum were sitting. The first year was fidgeting with his hair in a mirror, mumbling something loudly all the while.

“Red, ya want some?” Fatgum offered, pulling the first year’s attention to him. He gestured to the takoyaki on his desk. The first year stared at it for a little bit before shaking his head and grinning broadly at Fatgum.

“No thanks! I’m about to go to dinner,” He said cheerily, and then turned back to the mirror. He pushed his hand through the fringe of red hair that had flopped over his forehead. His smile drooped and he sighed plaintively. He had been doing this ever since he had come back from the shower, dressed very nicely with his hair falling around his face. Like this, he looked like softer, friendlier almost. It did absolutely nothing to turn down his intensity though.

“How do I look, guys?” He asked, turning his pouting face towards Amajiki and Fatgum. He didn’t mean to do it on purpose, but Amajiki sighed at this question so hard that he felt tired after. The first year’s expression turned so dejected and hurt that Amajiki had to look away, regretting his continued existence. His fingers twitched, and he wished he was wearing his hero costume so he could have pulled his hood over his face. Fatgum shot an amused look at him, but then turned back towards the first year with a lot more patience and compassion than Amajiki could have managed.

“We’ve already told ya that ya look good, Red,” Fatgum said, which was true. They both had told him when he had come in the room, and then repeated their opinions the next five times he had asked. Amajiki buried his face in his hands. He wanted to go home. Mirio was late, and Amajiki didn’t know if he could forgive him for making him deal with this. Well. He didn’t know if he could forgive him immediately, anyway.

“Oh!” The first year’s voice was equal parts surprise and chagrin. Amajiki peaked through his fingers to look at the self-conscious expression on the first year’s face. He fiddled with the bottom of his jacket, his fingers wrinkling and then smoothing over the black fabric over and over. “I’m sorry; I’m just nervous, I guess.”

“What for?” Fatgum asked patiently. The first year’s cheeks took on a rosy tint, and a smile began to cross Fatgum’s lips. Amajiki’s cringed sympathetically; he recognized that expression. “Why, da way ya’re acting, bein’ nervous about how ya look and going to dinner, I’d almost think ya were going on a date.”

The rosy tint to the first year’s cheeks exploded, his entire face going beet red. His eyes widened almost comically and his mouth gaped open in a parody of sheer panic. Fatgum burst out laughing, and Amajiki felt mean for it, but he couldn’t but smile a little bit too.

“Oh, Red! I might’a expected this from Suneater here,” Fatgum gestured towards Amajiki, making him frown and shrink back in his seat, “but never you! Don’t worry kid, ya gonna knock ‘em dead!”

“Thanks!” The first year said after a second, grinning wide and lopsided at Fatgum. He turned his gaze to his hands, and his smile softened into something warm and fond. It reminded Amajiki of him when he was younger and he felt a burst of fondness for the other student. “I just really like hi- them! I really like them, and this is our first date so . . .”

“Hey, maybe Suneater could give you some pointers?” Fatgum offered, gesturing towards Amajiki. He froze in his seat, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as the chill of expectations raced through him. He slowly turned towards the first year who was looking at him expectantly, his eyes bright and shiny and big. Amajiki might have let out a little squeak.

“Um, don’t . . . imagine them as potatoes?” He offered weakly. The first year accepted it gladly, as if Amajiki had just offered him sage advice. He sighed, and buried his head in his hands again. This was too much, all of it was too much. Fatgum laughed loudly, and Amajiki heard footsteps as the first year came sit on the chair next to him.

“How long have y’all know each other?” Fatgum asked.

“We’re classmates, so since the year started,” The first year said. “We’ve actually been together for a little while, this is just the first time we’ve been able to go out. We’re celebrating my hero debut.”

“That’s sweet, Red. I’m happy for ya,” Fatgum said warmly and he could feel the first year’s gratitude. It was sweet, and Amajiki was happy for the kid too. Such a cheery kid deserved someone who could help keep that cheer on his face. Amajiki stood up and went to his backpack to root around in the side pocket, ignoring the quizzical looks that were sent his way. His hand wrapped around the cool square-shaped glass container and he straightened back up.

“Here,” He said, offering it to the first year, who took it gingerly, as if it was a precious heirloom. Well, Mirio had given to him, so he would rather it be returned to him properly. “It’s cologne. For your date.”

The first year grinned brightly at him and surged forward to wrap his arms around Amajiki. Amajiki froze, because he was very extremely limited in the amount of people with who he was physically affectionate with and that list had exactly one person. That person was not Kirishima Eijirou, so right now he was very put out. Thankfully, the first year detached himself from Amajiki almost as quickly as he had attached himself. 

His phone went off, and the first year pulled it out of his pocket. When he saw the notification, his face whole face lit up and his smile softened into the dopiest looking grin Amajiki had ever seen. The first-year’s thumbs flew over the keyboard, definitely not typing any words, and Amajiki made eye contact with Fatgum. The hero looked like he had never been this amused in his entire life, and Amajiki just sighed.

“I’ve gotta go, but thank you both so much!” The first year said, then quickly turning and dashing out of the room. Fatgum shook his head fondly, chuckling.

“Ah, youth,” He said sagely. “So, who is it?”

“What?”

“Who is Red’s date? You’re his senpai right, you should know.”

“Why would you think -” Amajiki started protesting, because he barely knew the first year, but suddenly the image of wild blond hair and a sharp gaze that blunted when it fell on Kirishima sitting on the steps to the dorm, waiting, popped into his head and Amajiki’s mouth snapped shut. He hadn’t asked his first year who the person who was very obviously waiting for him was, but he remembered recognizing him from somewhere. He racked his brain, trying to remember, when it suddenly came to him.

“Remember the first year that won the sports festival?”

“The fiesty one that had to be chained and muzzled?” Fatgum guffawed at the memory, because nothing about Fatgum was small. Not even his laugh.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, sure. Watching him and Red fight was real interesting.”

“Well, it’s him. The guy that Kirishima is going on a date with, I think.”

“Oh,” Fatgum said, conflicted. His face twisted like he had swallowed something sour, but then he shook it off. His expression settled into something more accepting, and then he turned towards Amajiki with a glint in his eye. “Well, at least one of ‘em got enough nerve to tell each other how they feel. Unlike someone I know.”

Amajiki nodded idly, not really paying attention. He pulled out of his phone and checked the time; Mirio should really be here by now. Amajiki hoped that he hadn't been caught up, or hurt or anything. He frowned with concern. What if he had been attacked by a villain on thew way here? No, no, he told himself. Mirio was much too strong for that to matter. He'd be fine, he had probably just been a little scatter brained. When he looked back up, Fatgum was giving him a meaningful look.

“What?” He asked, and Fatgum sighed. He nodded towards the back of the room, and Amajiki turned around to follow his faze. Mirio was sticking his face through the wall and when Amajiki made eye contact he grinned wildly. He couldn’t fight his own smile that crossed his lips.

"You're late," He accused, and Mirio's smile contorted into a pout.

"You're right, and I'm sorry Tamaki, but get this: There was a really cute dog." Amijiki shook his head in fond exasperation. He stood to say goodbye to Fatgum, and was caught off-guard by the knowing look on the hero's face.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," He said, shaking his head. He stood and waved at Mirio, who stuck his arm through the wall so he could wave back. "I'll see you kids later."

Chapter Text

It’s almost embarrassing how long she thought it was just a coincidence.

He had come to her the day before, an excited glint in his eye. Kirishima was always a bundle of energy, enthusiasm drumming under his skin like water rumbling right under the soil. That day though, he had been jittery, shifting constantly when he stood and wiggling when he sat. He had cornered her sometime after class, fidgeting and fighting against a smile.

“Yaomomo,” He had breathed, practically exhaling happiness. “I have a date.”

He asked her to recreate something that had a similar style to his rescue outfit. Not exactly the same as it, but close, because he had looked good in it, right? He followed her to her room, and she took his measurements, and he beamed at her when she handed him the clothing. It was infectious and she couldn’t help but be excited for him too. When he smiled, it was wide, stretching the entire length of his face, his eyes wide and feverish in his bliss. It was the kind of smile you wanted to photograph, to hang on the wall and use it for inspiration.

“Who is it?” She had asked, partly because she was curious but also because she knew how much she had loved being able to gush about the people she liked. If he was this thrilled about having a date, then he must have really liked the person right?

So she didn’t know how to feel when his smile dimmed and his shoulders drooped and for a moment he was subdued. She thought she saw something akin to fear dance in his eyes, but then he blinked and that exhilaration was back, his chest puffing out with pride. His smile might have wobbled a little bit, and he wasn’t quite making eye contact, but she decided to not mention that.

“It’s a secret,” He had stage whispered, clutching the clothing in his arms. He had hummed then, something amused and fond. “I don’t think you’d like them very much.”

His phone went off, and when he looked at it he smiled a little more genuinely. She watched him while he typed in his phone, wishing she was as good with people as she was good at calculus. That happiness was good, more of her classmates should share it, and it made her sad that something could dampen it that quickly.

“I’ve got to go, Bakugou is helping me with my supplementary lessons. Thank you!” He had nearly shouted, before practically dancing out of her room. She let it bother her for a little while longer, before she had turned to tackle her massive pile of homework. She had been tempted to do an internship, but between all of the things she had to do, she knew she didn’t have time. So she moved on to that.

And just sort of forgot about Kirishima’s date.

Until Bakugou appeared at her doorstep the next day, skin pale and teeth gritted like he had just broken a bone, asking, no, begging for help. Bakugou didn’t ask for help. He considered the sheer thought an insult most of the time. So when he asked for help, she knew it was a thing to be treated gravely.

And when she saw his wardrobe, she knew why he had asked.

She had flicked through the black shirt and skull patterns and somewhere, something in the back of her mind remembered that Kirishima’s date was tonight too.

What a coincidence, she had thought. The first two of her classmates to go on dates had asked for her help. It made her preen with pride, to know her abilities and opinion were valued so highly by these boys they had come to her for help. Maybe Bakugou still called her Ponytail, maybe he still growled more than he spoke, but the truth of the matter was that he had come to her.

Then it occurred to her. Bakugou had asked for help. For a date.

“She must be important to you,” She had said wistfully, caught up in the romantic part of it all. She was a romantic at heart, really. But these were her formative years; she didn’t have time for things like romances and dates and things like that. She had to study and get better and prepare herself for her future. Still, it would have been nice to be that important to someone.

“It isn’t a -” Bakugou had barked out, and she had been brought out of her fantasies by his tone. She glanced over at him and staring at his garnet colored eyes, she felt a strange sense of Deja Vu. Something akin to fear dancing inside, just before he blinked and looked away and the moment was lost.

“Yeah, they are,” He had said, refusing to look at her. She had suddenly felt like she had just been offered a riddle, although at the time she hadn’t understood why, hadn’t realized that her mind had been making connections unconsciously. Huh, she had randomly thought. Kirishima had referred to his date by gender neutral terms, too.

She pushed the thought away and focused on what she had wanted to make for Bakugou. Making clothing was a little more difficult than making some of the other things; she had to juggle so many numbers and atomic compositions in her head. She pulled the hem of her sweater up, bunching it under her bra. Bakugou seemed the type to like dark, solid colors. Black was always a good classic, right?

Bakugou had made a choked noise and she looked up at him. He was staring at her stomach, his face flushing. It took her a second to realize what was bothering him, her mind still churning with numbers and colors and chemicals. Some part of her brain noted that he didn’t seem interested in her bared skin, just uncomfortable and confused by the fact that it was there.

Once she had explained what she was doing, he averted his eyes and stared at the wall. Bakugou wasn’t really the type for propriety, so he was surprised at how polite he was being. Really, she was surprised with how polite he was being about the whole entire thing. If Kirishima thrummed with energy, he practically vibrated with energy, overflowing with it, expressing it by lashing out. Yet, he had mostly just been gruff and pouty about the entire thing. No shouting, no anger.

“You don’t have to tell your girlfriend about this,” She had pointed out, although secrets were never good for relationships. This was one of those situations that would be extremely easy to misinterpret, however, so she’d understand if he wanted to keep it quiet. She was surprised when a fond smile stretched his lips. It smoothed his face, softened his angry eyes. He looked strangely beautiful, all hard marbled lines still, but something gentle deep at his center that shown through his smile. If she was a painter, she would have wanted to paint it.

“I don’t think they’d mind,” he had said, and she didn’t know why but Kirishima’s face popped into her mind. Too confused and flustered to focus on the composition his shirt, and instead made the pants and shoes, which she had already figured out. She pushed them at him and turned away, and tried understand why she kept thinking of Kirishima. The part of her that had been making the connections the whole time shrieked in frustration, and brought back every time she had thought of the redhaired boy.

When Bakugou said he didn’t think his date would mind her baring her stomach.

The way they had both used gender neutral pronouns.

How they both had a date tonight.

Fear had danced in both of their eyes when she talked about their partner.

It wasn’t that odd, was it? For two people in her class to have dates on the same night. Then again, it was the first two people. But that was just a coincidence right? That the first two people to go on dates did on the same night? That the first two people who happened to be best friends were going on a date on the same night? Why was that bothering her -

‘It isn’t a -” Bakugou said, and her mind suddenly supplied the last word. Girl. It isn’t a girl. He wasn’t going on a date with a girl.

Well, Yaoyorozu had been extremely heteronormative about this, hadn’t she?

Still, her mind pointed out when Bakugou stood, displaying her creations. It could still be a coincidence. Her eyes ran up and down his legs, and she wondered how she could figure it out. It was nosey and it didn’t matter if Bakugou and Kirishima were dating, especially not if it gave birth to that happiness that Kirishima had shown her the night before, especially not if it made Bakugou this soft. However, she was curious.

She looked at him critically. It was unlikely that he’d tell her if she just asked right out, not if the way he and Kirishima had both reacted when she had asked questions about them. Bakugou was smart, even smarter than he acted and looked; he was third in the class, and her and Iida were a tough act to follow. However, he wasn’t guarded right now, wasn’t paying much attention; whatever he was thinking about was taking over his mind completely.

So maybe simple was better.

“What is his favorite color?

“Red.”

She waited.

“Fuck.” He had barely said it, like it was an reflex more than a thought. A second afterward his faced flushed, an angry, embarrassed ruddy red. He snarled like a vicious animal, but she could see the concern underneath it, the protective lashing out. She remembered the fear in their eyes and she wondered what had put it there.

The rest of the time they spent together was less antagonistic. Once Bakugou’s bluster had subsided, he deflated like an old party balloon. It occurred to her that this had been a heavy burden for him, this secret, but it had also acted as armor. Now that it was out, he stood there vulnerable, fidgeting and subdued. He was nervous, and it was kind of sweet. She could tell how much he cared about Kirishima and how much Kirishima cared about him.

“Whose decision was it?” She had asked, standing in the doorway of Bakugou’s room. He had been fidgeting with his hair in his front facing camera, running his fingers through it over and over, smoothing and then ruffling it back up. She had been dismissed, no longer necessary, but that question had lingered. The hand holding the phone dropped, and he looked up to glare at her.

“Whose fucking decision was what? ” He snapped. “If you mean the date, that was my idea. I can take my boyfriend to a celebra-”

“To keep it a secret?” She said loudly, trying to keep him from going on a tangent and a smile from gracing her lips. He had called Kirishima his boyfriend, and the sheer concept of it made her heart swell with happiness, like when she saw an adorable puppy.

“Oh,” Bakugou said. He looked away from her, once again deflated and subdued. He flicked his camera back on and started fidgeting with his hair again, but she could tell that he did it with less purpose, that he was just trying to keep his hands busy. “It wasn’t . . .  we never really talked about it.”

“Then why keep it a secret?” He couldn’t really deny that they were keeping it a secret, not with the way he had acted earlier, not with the way that they didn’t act any different in public. His fingers twitched, and then he sighed. He pocketed his phone and clasped his hands together tightly, his gaze distant.

“When I first found out that he was gay, he had looked so scared,” Bakugou started. His eyes slid sideways until he was looking at her from under his lashes, vaguely threatening. She straightened her spine and jutted her chin out a little.

“I don’t give two shits if people know that I’m gay,” Bakugou said defiantly. “It’s who the fuck I am, and they can fucking fight me if they got a problem with it. But Eijirou isn’t like that. He cares about what people think, and I can’t protect him from homophobic assholes. So we just . .  . don’t tell anyone.”

It was strange, how one conversation can throw how you see someone in a completely new light. The day before she would have said that Bakugou was a selfish, caustic asshole. And, he probably still was, but that gentleness didn’t exist just in his smile when he thought about Kirishima. It existed anytime Kirishima was involved, at Bakugou's core.

Which made the next question difficult.

“Is that going to be healthy for you? Both of you? Keeping such a big part of yourselves secret?” Bakugou scowled, nasty and ugly and she didn’t really need him to respond for her to know what he thought about it. He untangled his fingers and ran a jerky hand through his hair.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” He said, and she opened her mouth to protest, because that clearly was important. Bakugou stopped her with a hand.

“As long as I can . . .” He swallowed thickly, and his eyes fluttered closed. “As long as I can have him, I’ll be okay.”

He said it with the sort of finality that she knew she couldn’t protest anymore. She nodded, and left the room feeling decidedly less good than she had going in. She didn’t feel like going back to her room to do homework, so she searched for her friends, wanting to get her mind off of things. She was one of the few people privy to the secret of Kirishima and Bakugou’s relationship, and it left her feeling very solemn. She worried for most of the night that she had overstepped her boundaries.

Was it really any of her business to question how they conducted their relationship? She wasn’t friends with Bakugou, and while she was friends with Kirishima, she was only one of his very many peripheral friends. Her opinion on the matter didn’t matter. But did any of their friends know? Did they have anyone removed from the situation to talk to about it with? Who did they go to when they were frustrated? When they were worried?

She couldn’t help but feel like she had messed something up.

But when she woke up the next morning there was a box of expensive chocolates in front of her door, the words thanks written in a tight, angry scrawl on it’s lid. She smiled, and thought that maybe Bakugou was right. As long as they had each other, they could deal with it.

Chapter Text

Mina liked to think of herself as good with people. No, scratch that. Mina knew she is great with people. Yeah, that’s more like it.

She doesn’t really know where she got that skill. It wasn’t one she ever really meant to develop, it just kinda came naturally to her. She knew that was something that her boy Kiri respected her for, although if she was honest she had no idea how that boy ever had issues getting along with people. She thinks sometimes it’s because he tries to act tough; it isn’t that he isn’t tough, but he’s also a ball of sunshine and you just gotta play to your strengths, you know?

She was getting a little off topic. Her point was that she was fucking great with people, you know? She could get bullies to breakdance, she can sweet talk her way out of villain attacks, and she makes friends, like, everywhere she goes. It’s great, and she loves it. She was also pretty good at sniffing out how people feel and getting them to talk, and she wasn’t half bad at predicting what the people close to her were going to do next. In fact, she was so good at predicting what people were going do that people won’t make bets with her anymore, which totally sucks, but isn’t really the point.

The point is: She didn’t understand how she didn’t see this coming.

The warning flags were literally everywhere. It was one those things that, in retrospect, she should have seen coming by a mile. No, wait, by miles. She should have seen it the moment it crossed over the horizon, she should have seen it yonder past what nary the average eye could see. She should have seen it before it could even form as an idea in the eyes of the participants. She should have gotten one of those freaky dreams that told the future about it.

She was getting off topic again. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

She didn’t know where the story began, but she knew where she joined in. There was this area next to the coastline that was super swanky, with a lot of really upscale restaurants and stores. Because of this, it was also a huge tourist trap, which meant it had a lot of really kitschy tourist shops. A thing not many people knew about Mina was that she absolutely adored little touristy things, especially in the areas that weren’t that far off from UA, because occasionally they’d get really tacky knockoff versions of superhero merch. Once, she even found an obviously, really badly made plushie of Bakugou. Can you imagine? A plushie of Bakugou? It was kind of super soft actually, and even though it looked bad it was kinda awesome. She left it at her house when she moved in the dorms, because wouldn’t that be like super awkward if Bakugou found out about it? She’d probably give it to Kiri now, actually-

Wait, yeah, that’s what she was supposed to be talking about.

She had recently came into some cash (someone forgot about the ‘no bets with Mina’ rule. Sucker.) so what was a girl to do but hit up some of her favorite tourist traps? It was a beautiful night, the kind where the smell of ocean mixed in with all of the street vendor’s wares, and everything just felt warm and cosy under the giant night sky. She was have a grand ol’ time, bags dangling around her wrists. She hadn’t really bought herself anything today, just some gifts for her friends - including a Crimson Riot T-Shirt that she definitely needed to remember to give to Kiri - but she was still enjoying herself.

She was ducking into the store that was probably gonna be her last and opened her mouth to greet the cashier - who she knew through her repeated ventures to this specific store; it was a great store - when she saw a bright splash of cherry red against the tan walls of the store. Her gaze zoned in on it, and she was shocked to realize that Kirishima was there. Not only was Kiri there, Kiri was there and he was looking hot. The boy was kinda hopeless when it came to looking good. He had such a pretty face, but he liked to distract it with a tower of spikes and gaudy clothing. Not that Mina could really say anything about gaudy clothing.

She raised her hand in a wave and put her other hand up around her mouth to shout when her eyes slid over and she realized that Kirishima wasn’t the only dud dressed like a stud tonight. Her greeting died in her throat when her gaze fell on Bakugou. Who, for once, wasn’t drowning in his pants - since when had he had a butt? Her mind, a little slow to connect the dots sometimes, suddenly pointed out that not only were Kirishima and Bakugou dressing up and looking good, they were together in this store. This store? She could totally see Kiri being into this kind of stuff, but Bakugou? And why were they so dressed up?

The cashier finally noticed her and went to greet her, but she quickly shushed them and ducked behind the counter, ignoring the weird looks the cashier was giving her. Dropping her bags, she stuck an accusatory pink hand out towards the two boys and nudged the cashier with her shoulder.

“Do you see those two boys?” She whispered. The cashier blinked at her, and then glanced at them, the expression on their face making it clear that they didn’t understand why they were playing along with this.

“Yes?” The cashier said, their voice already sounding like Mina was trying their patience.

“Well, they are some of my bros, and I have no idea why they’re here,” She rushed on in one breath. The cashier look at her, blinking slowly. Then they looked back.

“It looks they’re trying on glasses,” The cashier said and, okay, point to them because that was at the very least, definitely what Kiri was doing. He was pulling some of the novelty glasses off of the shelf and then trying them on, peering at his precious little sunshine face in the large mirror against the wall, then grinning widely, all sharp teeth and gums. Bakugou looked bored and was browsing through the mugs, occasionally glancing at Kirishima through the mirror.

“Yes, yes,” Mina said, wagging her hand in front of her face. “That wasn’t what I meant. I meant, I don’t know why they’re here, together, dressed so nice. I mean, don’t they look hot?”

“Yeeesss . . ?” The cashier drew the word out, unsure. They glanced between where Mina was just peeking her head over the counter and the two boys again, their confusion steadily getting deeper and easier to see. “I’m guessing they’re here after a date?”

“What, like a double date?” Mina asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She shook her head after a second. “No way. They wouldn’t be able to both hide the fact that got girlfriends. Well, Maybe Bakubro, because he is like, emotional constipation 101 and I wouldn’t even be able to tell if he was happy or angry. Kiri though, Kiri wears his heart on his sleeve. Although it could have been a first date, Kiri is the kind of masochist that would bring Bakugou on a double-first date - “

“No,” The cashier said, giggling, and Mina finally realized that the cashier had been slowly losing it. If she wasn’t already pink, she would have gone pink because she had totally just pulled a Midoriya. God, that’s super embarrassing. “I meant like, them, on a date, together.”

“What? No way.”

“It’s true,” The cashier said, shrugging. They pointed at the doorway casually and then dragged their finger through the air so it was pointing back at the boys. Kirishima was fitting multiple pairs of glasses on his face, the biggest grin stretching across his lips. “They came in holding hands.”

“What?” Mina squeaked, and there was no way. The cashier was lying. How would she have not noticed her best friend getting it on with his best friend? Like, sure, they were close but not that close? Were they? Had she somehow missed that? “No way, you’re wrong. There must have been some sort of reason that they were holding hands, like, there is no way that they’re dating -”

Oh my god.

Oh, no, the cashier had totally been correct.

If Mina hadn’t been watching it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it. Kirishima had turned towards Bakugou, being the total dork that he was, with three pairs of those novelty glasses stacked on top of each other. He shot him finger guns, and Bakugou’s face had shut down, like, no longer computing looking at Kirishima. Then, he had suddenly lunged forward, and then he was kissing Kirishima.

Mina had kinda expected Kirishima to push him off, but instead he fisted a hand into the back of Bakugou’s dark red shirt, the other one coming to cup Bakugou’s face. Bakugou dug his fingers in Kirishima’s belt and dragged their bodies flushed. Kirishima gasped and Bakugou dipped his tongue into the redhead’s mouth. Kirishima grabbed a handful of Bakugou’s hair, and it was a mess, Bakugou’s fingers pressing so tight against Kirishima’s back that his fingers were turning white, novelty glasses were being knocked off, and they were pressed so closely together it was hard to tell who was who.

Mina, wordlessly, slid her phone out and took a picture. She was going to need evidence later. And also, wow, look at her boy Kiri go. She kind of expected Bakugou to be a good kisser because he was Bakugou and he was amazing at the most unlikely things, but Kiri seemed to be giving just as good as he got, and wow, they even looked good doing it and that was a very rare feat in Mina’s experience.

“I was totally right,” The cashier said smugly. Mina just nodded, her eyes wide and fixed on the boys. They were full on making out in the middle of the store, what the hell.

“You totally were,” She said, because she knew when she was wrong. The kiss’s intensity dialed down, and then Kirishima was pulling away, eyes wide and awed, and Bakugou looked like he had just had an out of body experience. He straightened up, and Mina ducked behind the counter. The cashier was still staring appreciatively at them, so she whacked them in the calf with her hand.

“Don't stare at them!” She hissed, and the cashier made a shocked little ‘oh’ noise before they pointedly looked away from the boys. They was staring at the ceiling, and Mina facepalmed. With a sigh, she pulled her phone back out and texted Sero.

Acd Qn: Where are you????

Cllotp: With Kami in his room. Why?

Acd Qn: boy i got the biggest scoop!!

Bakugou and Kirishima walked past her and out of the store hand in hand, and she exhaled once, twice, and then stood up. The cashier raised their eyebrows, so Mina stuck out her hand. After the second, the cashier took it, with the same expression on their face as they had earlier when Mina had first ducked behind the bar.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Mina said cheerily, leaning down to grab all of her bags. The cashier blinked at her again.

“You . . .  too?” Mina smiled at them, and then turned heel and practically ran to the train station.

It was around here when Mina first started to think of all the red flags she had missed, you know? The really obvious ones. Like, how Kiri was super obsessed with manly things. And she knew that when he meant ‘manly’ he meant something like living life with no regrets, but he also really liked fitness  and things that reeked of testosterone and really admired muscular men. Like, he once went on a rant about Bakugou’s arms once. She hadn't thought anything about because, well, Bakugou did have really nice arms. But she so should have thought about, because apparently her precious Kiri had been spending some time in those arms? There was no way that was a first kiss, they knew each other way too well for that. And then, and then, there was the fact that Bakugou literally only liked Kirishima. He put up with the rest of their squad - named the Bakusquad to honor their member who is forced to be there the most - but he actively liked being around Kirishima. Then, there was the fact that sometimes they wore each other clothes, or that sometimes she’d catch on them staring, and she had just never thought about it, but wow, she really should have.

And her mind was like that all the way to UA, all the way up the elevator in the dorms, and all the way to Kaminari’s room, where she pulled up the picture on her phone and slammed Kaminari’s door open. She took a deep breath, and announced very loudly: “Kirishima and Bakugou are dating and I have proof!”

Then she looked down into the room and realized that there was two more people in there than she meant to make that announcement to. She looked into the abyss (Kaminari’s room) and found four different pairs of eyes staring at her, wide-eyed. Then, Sero turned to Kaminari and pointed an accusatory finger at him

“I told you Bakugou wasn’t cheating on him!” Sero said proudly, and Kaminari held his hands up in defense.

“You say that like I wanted my bestbro’s heart to be shattered because his jerkface of a boyfriend had someone on the side,” Kaminari accused.

“What, you guys knew?” Yaoyorozu and Mina said at the same time. The girls look at each other like they had just been betrayed.

“Yeah,” Jirou said, the only one who seemed reasonably unaffected by everything going on. “I found out like, a month ago, when Mr. Tapey here burst in kinda like Mina just did, but these two have apparently know since like July?”

“They’ve been dating for that long?!” Mina wailed, sinking to her knees on the ground. “How did I never notice?”

“Momo, how did you know?” Jirou asked, and Yaoyorozu perked up.

“They both asked me to make outfits for them tonight.”

“Oh wow, Momo, amazing job,” Mina said, giving her a thumbs up. Yaoyorozu blushed and then puffed out her chest, pleased with the praise. Sero and Kaminari finished their scrabbling and turned back towards Mina.

“Close the door dude, they’re trying to keep it secret and screaming like that isn’t helping,” Sero admonished, and Mina shrugged. She inched inside and closed the door behind her.

“Don’t worry my dudes, everyone else on this floor is in the common space. I already checked,” She said, holding her hand out in a scouts honor. Sero held his arms out until the room quieted down.

“Okay, first things first, we need to respect the guys’ privacy, okay? Now that we all know, we can talk about it amongst ourselves, but like, don’t confront them, okay?” Sero said with his mom-friend voice. When Sero used the mom-friend voice, you agreed with him. So everybody nodded, including Yaoyorozu who technically was not one of Sero’s children-friends. He nodded and then put his hands together, a devilish glint to his eyes.

“Alright Mina, tell us how you found out. And please, hand over this proof, especially if it has tongue. Someone needs to be punished for doubting Bakubro.”

Chapter Text

When the sun set on UA, the giant windows lining the walls let in dappled, multicolored light to paint the usually drab halls. Ashido and Sero were leaning against the windowed-walls, backlit by soft pinks and purples and reds. From Kaminari’s perspective where he was sprawled out on the floor, it looked like they had halos. Sero and Ashido weren’t exactly the most angelic people, but it made a burst of affection bloom in his chest. It also made him think of Autumn, and he had the sudden, intense urge to be outside among the early fall weather and warm fall sun.

Except they were stuck here, sitting in front of the fucking boys’ locker room, waiting on Kirishima and Bakugou.

“They’ve been in there for a while,” Ashido said with a sigh, and Kaminari aggressively gestured in her direction.

“Thank you,” He said, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. Sero snorted at him - the gesture probably lost any intimidation considering the fact that Kaminari was laying on the ground.

“They’re probably making out,” Sero pointed out, and Kaminari made a vague growling noise. Repeated exposure to the ‘proof’ that Ashido had acquired had suppressed his kneejerk reaction of disgust when it comes thinking about them making out; he still didn’t like it though. Sero pouted at Kaminari because he didn’t react and the blond, in a very mature manner, stuck his tongue out at him.

“What is your deal with them, anyway?” Ashido asked. Kaminari shot one last glare at Sero and then turned to her, confused.

“I don’t have a ‘deal’ with them,” He said. She stared at him like he had just told her that he genuinely thought the universe’s center was the moon. She looked desperately at Sero, but he just shrugged at her.

“You like, freak out, every time we talk about them. Do you have a problem with them?” She asked, and Kaminari’s face scrunched up. He sat up, running his fingers through his messy blond hair.

“No?” He said, a little uncertain, and Ashido just stared at him, gaping. She made some wild gestures in the air between the three of them, and Kaminari and Sero just exchanged bewildered looks.

“Why then?” Ashido blurted out.

“Why what?”

“Do you freak out?” She asked and Kaminari shrugged helplessly. With a frustrated breath, he scooted on the floor until he was sitting in front of Ashido. He hummed while he tried to gather all of his feelings for Kirishima and Bakugou’s relationship into words.

“Like, okay. First of all, I don’t care that they’re dating. Like, take all other factors out of it, and I don’t care,” He said, and waited for Ashido’s nod to continue. “They’re both my friends, so I want them to be happy, you know? So I’m not gonna, like, try to break them up or anything. But . . .”

“I know he’s tough and all, but I worry about Kiri because him and Bakugou are different people when it comes to things like this. Kirishima is affectionate and feels a lot and shares a lot, and Bakugou just, isn’t. There is more to relationships than just liking someone, and I know how much Kiri likes him. It’s obvious how much Kiri likes him, and I’m just worried that it isn’t going to work out because they’re so different, you know? Not to mention all the stress of keeping it secret . . . I just don’t want them getting heartbroken. Bakubro may be able to handle it, but I think it'll crush Kiri.”

Ashido stared at him, and Kaminari was worried for the state of her eyes if she didn’t start blinking soon. “That was . . . surprisingly deep for you, Kami.”

“Thanks,” Kaminari said. He knew his limits; he’d accept that backhanded compliment as a genuine one. Sero reached over and patted him supportively on the shoulder. Ashido blinked a few times, nodding to herself.

“Okay, but why like, the disgust when you see-slash-think about them kissing?”

“Oh. That’s because I get like a twinge of panic everytime I see them together? I feel like I’m putting a small baby animal into the mouth of a crocodile. I know Bakugou isn’t gonna hurt him on purpose; it’s just an image thing.”

Kaminari was a little offended that Ashido thought that he’d have like, an actual problem with the boys being together. And, okay, maybe he had been overreacting but that was like half of Kaminari’s charm. Sero seemed to have understood that about him, but maybe that’s just because they had been dealing with it together since the beginning.

“Besides. Would I be part of the Secret-Keepers of the KiriBaku if I actually had a problem with them?”

“KiriBaku? I thought we decided on Bakushima?” Sero asked, frowning.

“Nah, I decided to change it.”

“I like KiriKat.”

“We know what you like Ashido, and thankyou for your opinion but you’re like, four months too late for it to matter,” Kaminari said blithely. He stood and reached his hands up towards the ceiling, stretching out his sore back. He didn’t know how long they had been there, but it certainly felt like a long time. Hunger was starting to gnaw at his stomach, and they still had homework to do.

“Why are we here, anyway?” He asked, directing his attention towards Ashido and Sero. They usually waited for each other after dressing out, but Bakubro had been lingering behind. Kirishima had gone to check in on him, and Sero had said in his undeniable Mom voice that they had to wait on them. So, wait they did, but now it was kinda getting silly.

“Well, like you said. We’re their secret-keepers - we’ve got to stop any students or teachers from walking in on them,” Sero said with a shrug.

“Because they’re probably making out,” Ashido added, and Kaminari sighed. His body didn’t appreciate UA’s uncushioned halls, nor did his appetite appreciate being unsated. He loved his bros and all, but they picked a bad time to do things.

“I’m going to get them,” He announced.

“What, dude, you sure? They’re probably making out,” Sero pointed out again, and Kaminari scoffed.

“Bro, come on, I get it. But I’m hungry and if we let, they’d probably makeout all day in there.” Sero and Ashido looked at each other, having a silent conversation with their expressions. Kaminari put his hands on his hips and waited impatiently for them to get it over with. Eventually, Sero gestured towards the locker room.

“The floor is yours.” Kaminari bowed a little and then walked over to the door. He banged against it, ignoring the sting in his fist as he hit the heavy material. He didn’t know what the door was made of, but it hurt like a bitch. Then, he pushed the door opened and slipped through it.

“Um, guys? You in here?”

There was a second before he heard giggling, and Kaminari was doing a huge concern. The giggling started to get more hysterical until he recognized Kirishima’s boisterous laughter. A second later, an unfamiliar, deeper laugh joined him, and Kaminari nearly ran to get around the lockers because was Bakugou laughing?

And my god, he was.

They looked happy, they really did. They wore wide matching grins between their laughter, their eyes warm and fond as they stared at each other. They both had kiss-swollen lips, and Bakugou’s neck was pink and splotchy. They had obviously been making out, and Kaminari wondered if they realized just how obvious they were. Honestly, it was a surprise that it was even a question about it being a secret at this point.

“Are you guys okay?” He asked, because he honestly was actually a little concerned for them. Their smiles had an hysterical edge to them, like if they had to start laughing or they might have broken down. Kirishima rubbed at his eyes and managed - with great, visible effort - to drag his gaze away from Bakugou, who was still grinning. It was unnerving; Kaminari had never seen the other boy be this happy for this long.

“Yeah dude, I'm just tired. I think I'm gonna turn in early,” Kirishima said and, ah, that was code for a KiriBaku date. Kaminari nodded and pulled his phone out to let the rest of the squad know. Ashido, Sero and he had made their own separate group chat, since they spent an inordinate amount of time talking about Bakugou and Kirishima’s relationship. Since it was supposed to be a secret, they couldn't really talk about that in the usual group chat.

“Well,” He said after pocketing his phone again. Bakugou wasn’t paying attention to him, his eyes still fixed on Kirishima, and the redhead wasn’t doing much better. “I was just checking on you two since you’ve, you know, been in here a while.”

“We got it, Sparky,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t grinning anymore, but his lips were still quirked into a smile and his eyes were still staring fondly at Kirishima. He looked down right amicable when he was looked like this. Kaminari gave them a thumbs up, knowing that neither of them were watching him. He went back out into the hallway with Sero and Ashido, and none of them mentioned anything about the fact that it still took ten minutes for the boys to come out of the locker room.

Chapter Text

Uraraka stopped on her way back to the dorms to buy a bouquet. Deku had texted her and let her know that Kirishima had been injured during his internship; nothing serious, but he had a concussion and Recovery Girl wanted him to stay in her office for the rest of the day. Despite how injured everybody got, it was still a novelty to buy things like this since Recovery Girl usually healed everyone so quickly, so Uraraka made sure to get the biggest one with the most bright colors and reds that she could afford on her shoestring budget; moving into the dorms had helped pad her pockets, but she still didn’t have a lot to spare.

Her and Kirishima weren’t exactly friends, not more so than they were with the rest of their classmates, at least, but even then she felt a sort of kinship with the boy. She felt like their personalities weren’t too dissimilar and they were both interns; she’d like to be better friends with him, honestly. He seemed like the good sort to be friends with, loyal and enthusiastic, and she adored her boys, she really did, but they could get so serious sometimes. It’d be nice to be around someone who could let loose a little easier.

So, after she dropped her things off in her room, she cradled the bouquet in her arms and set her shoulders: She was going to make a friend today.

Recovery Girl’s door was cracked open, which meant that she was out but someone was visiting Kirishima. Just as Uraraka was about to push the door open, wondering who it was, she heard -

“You’re such a fucking idiot.”

- And really, there was no mistaking that angry growl. She knew it was wrong to snoop, but Bakugou’s voice had a certain edge to it that was different than his usual bluster and ever since Deku had explained that Kirishima had been the key to getting Bakugou to allow himself to be rescued, she had been curious about their relationship. She’d seem them hang out, sure, but it was always at a distance and she was just so curious about how they interacted.

“Hello to you too,” Kirishima said, laughing softly. Uraraka carefully nudged the door opened with her hip, carefully cradling her bouquet against her chest, and glanced around the edge of the door.

Bakugou had his head turned away from her, staring angrily out of the window if the way his shoulders were tense and hunched up were any indicator. He was standing at the end of Kirishima’s bed, and Kirishima himself was sitting cross-legged on top of it, his hair down and spilling red over a white headband of bandages. He looked amused, a soft smile playing on his lips, and Uraraka thought that this must be the core of their friendship: Bakugou being an asshole and Kirishima thinking it was funny, or endearing, instead of rude.

“I can’t believe you got a fucking concussion,” Bakugou said, his voice one of harsh disbelief, and Kirishima’s expression wavered for just a second before he forced a wider smile. Uraraka frowned, and Bakugou didn’t seem to even notice.

“I guess I’m not as hard-headed as you thought,” Kirishima said, his tone aiming for joking but falling a little flat. Bakugou’s head turned towards him, and even from here Uraraka could see the fierce anger in his eyes. Kirishima (and her) shrank back in response to its intensity, the smile slipping off of his face.

“You think this is a fucking joke?” Bakugou snarled, and Kirishima looked away from him. A muscle in Bakugou’s face twitched, and his fingers curled tighter around his arms, their knuckles turning white. He looked like he was holding on to himself to keep him from hitting or exploding something. She didn’t exactly dislike Bakugou, but he had a lot of unsavory qualities and she couldn’t help but be a little disapproving of him in the moment. Kirishima was the injured one, why was he getting so riled up?

“No, Katsuki, I don’t,” Kirishima said with a sigh, and Uraraka didn’t think she had ever heard him sound so dejected. Bakugou blinked, surprised, but his intensity didn’t lessen any. It took her a second to even realize that Kirishima was using Bakugou’s given name.

“Really? Because I don’t fucking think you understand how big of a fucking deal this is,” Bakugou said, and he dropped his hands to his hips, still clenching them tightly into fists. He closed the distance between them in two steps, his jaw visibly clenching tight.

“This wasn’t some minor fucking concussion, Eijirou,” Bakugou spat out, and she shouldn’t have been surprised that he was using Kirishima’s given name too, but she was. “If it wasn’t for fucking Recovery Girl, it would take you fucking months to fucking recover. You wouldn’t be able to finish your internship, or train, or even fucking study.”

“A villain used your fucking head as a fucking wrecking ball,” Bakugou said, raising one of his fists to jab at Kirishima's chest with his finger.

“Katsuki,” Kirishima said, louder than either of them had been before. He caught Bakugou’s hand in between his own, and Uraraka would have expected him to jerk away, but Bakugou only stared while Kirishima intertwined their fingers together, sucking in a breath through his teeth so loudly even she could hear it.

“I’m okay,” Kirishima said softly, and Bakugou made a choking noise. His body heaved with his next breath, and Kirishima reached up with his free hand to cup Bakugou’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping closed and Uraraka suddenly realized that she was interrupting a very, very private moment.

“I’m okay,” Kirishima repeated, and Bakugou collapsed on the bed beside Kirishima, wrapping his free hand around Kirishima's wrist, as if he was holding on for dear life. Bakugou sucked in his next breath through his teeth again, and the sound was thick and heavy with unsaid words. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, taking a second to just breathe, each one a desperate, wet thing. It occurred to Uraraka that earlier, he might not have been trying to hold himself back from violence, but instead from this depth of emotion that seemed to be racking him now.

Bakugou’s eyes opened again, and the intensity from earlier had not dimmed at all.

“You better fucking be,” Bakugou said in a fierce whisper, and there were so many emotions in those words Uraraka couldn’t name all of them. Kirishima blinked at him, but then he was leaning in and they were kissing. Bakugou surged against the redhead, desperate but in a way that made Uraraka think it wasn’t for physical touch.

She pulled away from the door, her breath caught in her throat and shame swirling hot and heavy in her gut. She had just eavesdropped on a moment that had belonged just to them, a very intimate, private moment. Sympathetic tears stung at her eyes, and she stood in the hallway trying to keep them from falling. What Bakugou had been feeling had just been so intense and so private; she had just witnessed one his most vulnerable moments through the crack in a door. She felt awful now for letting her curiosity get the best of her.

Once she managed to pull herself together, she stomped loudly over to Kirishima’s room and banged on the door a few times for good measure, cheerily calling out his name. Once she finally pushed it open, Bakugou had returned to his previous position at the foot of the bed, glaring out of the window, and Kirishima was back to sitting cross legged and smiling, at her this time. There was tension in the air, but she purposefully ignored it, instead brandishing her flowers like a shield. Kirishima took them, and his smile was wide but she could see where it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She glanced over at Bakugou, not able to help it, and if his eyes were a little redder than usual, she wasn’t going to say anything.

“I’m leaving,” Bakugou announced before turning around and heading towards the door. Kirishima stared at him, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Bakugou?” He called out, and the older teenage stilled at the doorway for just a second.

“I’ll see you later,” He murmured, and then he slipped out of the room. Kirishima stared after him for a moment, his expression distraught. Uraraka wondered if he realized how much he was saying without saying it. As far as she knew (and she knew most things going on in the dorm) they were just friends, but that kiss hadn’t seemed like a first kiss, and the way they were touching before it spoke of more intimacy than just friendship. She took the bouquet from Kirishima's limp grasp and sat them on the bedside table, busying herself by fluffing them up so she could give him space.

“Thanks for the flowers,” he said eventually, his voice sounding a little steadier. She smiled back at him, feeling like anything she could say or do in the moment would be insignificant.

“No problem.”

Chapter Text

Kaminari was the first person to say something, to the surprise of all of them. Really, she was expecting Sero to say something before her and Kami since he was the one in charge of taking care of all them, honestly. Mina thought that she, as the last one to officially find out, didn’t really have a place when it came to questioning their relationship and even after Kaminari had explained how he felt about them, she still kinda expected him to be glad about this development. Although, at the same time, Kaminari was probably the closest one to Kirishima, Mina and his history notwithstanding, so he probably felt this the most, but then again -

No, no. This was serious. She should be serious.

Kaminari was the first person to say something.

Of course, they had all noticed. It was hard not to notice when somebody like Kirishima was upset; he was like a light and everybody else was a moth, his infectious energy drew you in until you weren’t able to escape. Which was so weird, because she remembered how in junior high he was way more reserved -

No Mina, serious.

Anyway, When Kirishima was upset, every room he entered just seemed emptier than it should be. She didn’t know if the rest of their classmates even realized why it felt like that, but she could tell that everybody was feeling subdued without his enthusiasm. On the other hand, it was nearly impossible to tell when Bakugou was upset, since he always seemed upset. But, lately, he seemed to be nearly vibrating with unhappy energy and he snapped at the drop of the hat. Or, well, he snapped the second the hat started to fall, really.

So yeah, of course they noticed.

“Guys, we’ve got to do something,” Kaminari announced a few days into what they would later refer to as The Big Upset. It was lunch, and Kirishima had originally sat with them like usual, but he had just picked at his food and kept glancing at the seat that Bakugou usually occupied. Despite never actually eating thing, he eventually picked his tray up and told everyone that he was full before he disappeared, leaving his friends to wallow in their concern.

“What do you expect us to do?” Sero asked with a sigh, setting aside his chopsticks and staring mournfully at his lunch. Mina could relate; her appetite had suddenly soured as well. She pushed it away from her.

“What even happened?” Mina asked, leaning back in her chair. Kaminari shrugged without looking at her, poking his chopsticks into his rice over and over.

“I’m assuming they broke up,” Sero said, and Mina sighed. That was the most likely option if both of the boys were sulking. She hoped that this didn’t make Kirishima backslide; he had been working so hard to improve who he was, and he was such a good person. However, getting your heart broken could do a lot to you and it only took eyes to see how in love their red-haired boy was Bakugou (for the sake of her pride, she conveniently forgets that they had apparently been together for nearly half of a year before she realized it) and not to mention what this might do to Bakugou. She stared at the table, very sad for her boys. Kaminari looked between her and Sero - who was looking very frustrated - and gaped at them.

“Guys,” He said, snapping his fingers in front of their faces. “We need to have a plan, not just sit here and be sad. We’ve got to get them back together!”

“How do you expect us to do that, Kaminari?” Sero asked and then shook his head before anyone could respond. “We're not even supposed to know that they were dating.”

“Not to mention that Bakugou isn’t exactly letting us talk to him right now” Mina added. He wasn’t usually the most approachable person, but it was like they had just flashbacked to the beginning of the school year.

Kaminari opened his mouth to answer but then he faltered. After another second, he deflated back into his seat and returned to stabbing his rice, this time a little more viciously. Sero was right; there was no real way to encourage them to get back together without being super callous or super obvious. Besides, they didn’t even know why they broke up; What if it was for a good reason?

Mina frowned. The mood at their lunch table had definitely been ruined now. Sero was picking at his food again, occasionally shoving some into his mouth and then swallowing it like he wasn’t actually tasting it, while Kaminari just glowered at his table. She wish she could have been there, for Kirishima and Bakugou. Bakugou had been really tense these last few weeks, ever since Kirishima had started his internship. He was always so closed off, but even still he might have really needed someone to talk to. She knew how stressed she was worrying about the interns, she couldn’t imagine her boyfriend being one of the people being very secretive and constantly gone on potentially dangerous missions without having anyone to talk to about it.

Maybe they should have just told them that they knew?

“This is why I didn’t want them to date,” Kaminari said quietly, and Mina found herself agreeing just a little.

She couldn’t quite get it off of her mind for the rest of the day. Even if she was doing something else or thinking of something, it stayed on the fringes of her thoughts, catching the corner of her eye at every turn. She had wanted her boys to be happy, and she really was quite a romantic at heart, so normally she would have wanted them to follow their hearts. And really, they were super cute together: they were sweet and sour, sugar and spice, strawberries and lemons. They were the kind of couple that made absolutely no sense but all of the sense at the same time. That night, when they had kissed, she had never seen two people just fit together so well, and in battle they always seemed to anticipate the others’ actions perfectly.

But at the same time, Kirishima had a big, swollen heart that was easily bruised, and Bakugou had relied on his good looks and talent to get ahead for so long he probably didn’t develop all of those social skills needed to really carry a relationship. They were disastrous as a couple, because they just worked so differently. Kirishima was affectionate and open, Bakugou was standoffish and closed-off. Mina knew that Bakugou wasn’t all of the rough edges that he seemed to be, but it was hard to be someone you weren’t, and Bakugou just didn’t seem the type for close, personal relationships.

They’d both survive it, she had no doubt. Not just because they were young, but also because the boys were strong. But she hated that they were hurting, and she hated that Bakugou might pull away from them without his attachment to Kirishima. He was a mess, but he was their mess, he was her mess, and she wanted to help him clean up.

These thoughts followed her throughout the day, and haunted her when she tried to sleep. She ended up getting out of bed after an hour of tossing and turning to go make herself some tea; this late at night, she had expected to be alone, so imagine her surprise when she came into the commons room and found somebody sitting on a couch. The lamp beside them was turned on, but otherwise the entire floor had plunged into pitch blackness.

“Kiri?” She called out. The figure on the couch tensed and then forced himself to relax before he looked up at her, smiling. It was plastic smile, one that looked like it belonged to a doll instead of on a living breathing person, instead of on Kirshima Eijirou.

“Hey Mina, what’s up?” He called, and she could tell that the nonchalance was forced. It hurt, seeing him like this.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She took the seat next to him, probably not doing a good job of hiding her concern. Then again, he was the one sitting here in the dark, completely alone. Most people would be concerned, even if she didn’t know something had happened between him and Bakugou. From her perspective, his face was shrouded in shadow, but even still she could see the cracks in his facade. His eyes looked dull and shiny, and his smile had turned into something closer to a grimace. She sighed, and rubbed his back with her hand, ignoring the way he jerked in surprise. “What about you, honey?”

“Oh, erm,” He wasn’t looking at her. She already knew he wasn’t going to tell her the truth, but it was so obvious that he was about to lie to her. “I didn't want to walk by - I don't - I'm fine. Same. I’ve just been really busy, you know?”

“I know,” She said softly. His hair was still gelled back, though several strands had been knocked loose and were falling, framing his face. She brushed the hair back from his forehead, and he looked at her, confusion clouding his gaze.

“Ei, are you okay?” She asked gently, her voice just a breath above a whisper. Kirishima seemed to freeze in time, seemed to not even breathe, and  theb his mask crumpled. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes were watery even in the darkness and his forced smile slipped off of his face completely.

“Yeah,” He said, and his voice sounded hollow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She tilted her head at him.

“I don’t know, honey,” She said honestly, and she ran her fingers through the parts of his hair that had come out of his spikes, like her mother used to do when she felt sick. “You tell me, because you’re clearly not.”

She didn’t know for sure what it was that made him crack, but one second he was staring at her, eyes wet but cheeks dry, and the next tears had started falling. He gasped, a broken and wet sounding noise, and then he went to rub at his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He said, and she made comforting noises as she pulled him onto her chest, continuing to stroke his hair and holding him close. He went easier than she expected, and she wondered how long he had been trying to hold it together.

“There is just so much going on,” He said, and his shoulders shook with the effort to keep his composure. Her heart hurt so much for her sunshine boy. “Without - he -I just can’t handle it by myself.”

“It’s okay,” She whispered, squeezing him tighter. He let out a muffled sob, and she felt tears burn at her eyes. "I'm here, you're not alone."

“I need to be stronger,” He said, his voice choked up with emotion. She smoothed her hand over his hair again and again, coaxing out everything he felt. “I’ve got to be stronger.”

“It’s okay Ei, you’re okay, you’re allowed to hurt,” She said, and he broke, a tortured sounding sob racked his body and fell out of his mouth. He hunched himself closer to her and clutched to her shirt like it was a lifeline.

“I love him,” He said, so quietly that if Mina hadn’t been paying attention she wouldn’t have heard him. “I love him so much. I don't know what I did wrong.”

Mina’s heart broke. She buried her face in his hair and tried desperately to stay strong for him as he sobbed brokenly in her arms, but his hurt was so intense she could feel it swirling around them, making the room cold even as he laid against he. She just kept petting his head, trying to make soothing noises as his cried out his heartbreak. She hadn’t been there to prevent this, but she could be there to help him pick up the pieces.

Chapter Text

Bakugou hadn’t become more amenable to the presence of his friends over the week, but it sucks to suck; they still cared about him. It was that concern that drove Sero here to Bakugou's door, and what lead him to walking straight into the lion's den.

Sero hadn’t been in Bakugou’s room very often; Kirishima was really the only person he allowed that privilege. He didn’t know what he had been expecting when came in, but he felt a little underwhelmed.

Bakugou preferred solid, dark colors so the fact that his room was, for the most part, monochromatic wasn’t particularly a surprise. He was kinda surprised at the All Might poster on his wall, but also kinda not because anyone who had been friends with Midoriya when they were little had to be some sort of All Might fan. Besides, while most of them had left the merchandise of their teachers back at home, almost all of them had an All Might poster somewhere. His bed wasn’t made, but it didn’t look like someone had actually slept in it. There were a couple shirts scattered on the floor, and Sero poked at one that he knew for sure was Kirishima’s with his toe; he would have expected Bakugou to throw that out. They had, through Mina’s excellent detective work - she still wouldn’t tell them how she found out - that Bakugou had been the one who had ended it, but there was no mistaking that the shirt's vibrant green and hideous pattern belonged to their favorite redhead.

Sero was convinced that there was something more to all of this that none of them knew, though. He had seen the way Bakugou had looked at Kirishima, and he had been the only one to see them interacting outside of a make out session. He knew that Bakugou cared for Kirishima, and he knew Bakugou was the kind of person who would go to the ends of the Earth for something he wanted. So, what had happened?

Anyway, as curious as he was about how their relationship had soured, he wasn’t there snooping for clues or anything. Bakugou had been the only one of their classmates who hadn’t come out of their rooms to gather in the common room, and since Kirishima had been one of the interns that was missing, he couldn’t help but worry that Bakugou had gone and done something stupid. Or that he was just trying to deal with this alone, like he had tried to deal with their relationship alone, and they all knew how well that had turned out.

Bakugou was fun to get a rise out of, but when it came down to it, Sero did actually care about him. He didn’t know if it was mutual, but hey, a Mother’s love was never appreciated.

Kaminari was sweeping the shared spaces, and Sero had been the one who volunteered to come up here. It didn’t look like Bakugou was in his room though, so he tried to consider where else he could be. There was no way that he had snuck past everyone in the common rooms - Satou had been stress baking since dawn and Mina hadn’t been able to sleep well so she woke up not long after that, and Bakugou was not a morning person, so it was unlikely that he had snuck out before them. He had been considering checking Kirishima’s room when the wind blew and made the heavy curtains over the door to the balcony rustle, startling him.

Wait. There shouldn’t be wind inside the dorm room.

He didn’t think Bakugou was the kind to just let Sero in his room if he was just standing on the balcony, but it wouldn't be the first time that the angry dandelion had surprised him. He reached out to push the curtains away, fully expecting to see Bakugou glaring at him.

That wasn’t what he got.

Bakugou was fast asleep, curled up in the corner of balcony, his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees. He didn’t look like he had meant to sleep out there, but that had kinda seemed like a given. His face was troubled. Sero had seen Bakugou sleeping before - the other boy seemed to sleep more than anyone that Sero knew - and Bakugou only ever looked at ease when he was unconscious (or laying on Kirishima) so the troubled expression on his face was concerning Sero.

He carefully stepped around Bakugou’s legs and crouched in front of him. He didn’t really have to try and guess what Bakugou had been on the balcony for; he already knew that if had been sitting in Bakugou's spot, he'd get a clear view of the entrance to UA and the road leading up to it.

“Come on Bakubro, time to get up,” He called, because at the very least he needed to get out of the elements. The last dregs of summer kept the days warm, but it had gotten chilly last night, and Bakugou wasn’t exactly dressed for it. The blond’s face pinched, but he didn’t rouse, so Sero sighed and reached out to gently shake his shoulder.

“Bakugou,” He called again, and the other boy pulled away from his grasp.

“. . Eijirou?” He slurred, and Sero felt his heart break a little for his friend. For both of his friends. He sighed, and patted Bakugou head affectionately.

“‘Fraid not, Baku. I don’t have nearly enough muscles for that,” He said. Bakugou blinked his eyes opened and then scowled, pushing Sero’s arm away from him. He rubbed at his face, and he looked several years young with his fists shoved in to his eyes.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou asked, and Sero glanced around them. Was he really about to just ignore the fact that he had been sleeping out on the balcony? Was he really going to pretend that this wasn’t a thing happening?

“It’s like, noon dude,” Sero said, and Bakugou glowered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket which was, predictably, dead. He shoved it back angrily.

“So?” He said, rubbing at his face again. So they were going to do this. Sero sighed again and ran his hand through his hair. He suddenly felt too tired to play this game.

“We’re all in the common room, watching movies if you want to come down,” Sero said, and Bakugou glared at him.

“Why the fuck would I want to?” He sneered.

“So you wouldn’t be alone.” Bakugou’s expression dropped, sliding away like a mask falling off of his face. For a second, just a second, Sero could see through all of the sneering and forced disinterest to see the vulnerable center of Bakugou. He could see the fear he felt and loneliness that Bakugou carried. Then, the blond turned his head sharply and stared out over UA’s lawn, his face creasing with annoyance.

“What-the-fuck-ever,” he hissed. Sero stood and held his hand out. Bakugou stared at it disdainfully, but then he reached out and Sero pulled him to his feet. Sero didn’t know for sure, but him accepting Sero’s hand felt like a step forward, and he couldn’t help the little bit of hope that he felt.

Chapter Text

Believe it or not, Kirishima actually wasn’t the worst person to have as a next door neighbor. He was loud during the day, sure, and sometimes he worked out for too long and Shouji heard the rhythmic sounds of a punching bag being hit in his sleep sometimes. But, most of the time Kirishima was considerate of the fact that his neighbor had better than usual hearing and had nothing in his room to absorb any noises that leaked through the walls.

“Katsuki?”

So he was surprised when he heard Kirishima’s voice, hushed but there nonetheless, float through the walls at this hour. He was kind of surprised that anyone dared to call Bakugou by his given name, but then again Midoriya went around calling him Kacchan, and maybe they had known each other since they were kids, but that was way more familiar than 'Katsuki' was. Kirishima and Bakugou did seem fairly close, although Shouji specifically did not make any efforts to know about his classmates relationships that did not pertain to him. At the very least, Bakugou seemed to withstand Kirishima a great deal better than Midoriya.

Strangely, everything seemed to revolve around either Bakugou or Midoriya, so he ended up knowing more than he cared to.

“I’ve been scared three times in my life, Kirishima.”

He heard Bakugou’s voice break the silence that had fallen, and he found himself being strangely curious. Bakugou seemed like the type that would cut his arm off before he ever admit to being scared.

“The first was ten months before the entrance exam to UA, when I was attacked by a sludge villain and I almost suffocated to death. The second was when I was teleported to Kamino and I was facing down six villains and hadn’t slept or ate in two days.”

Understandable, really, most people would be scared during near death experiences, even experienced heroes.

“Third was when you didn’t come home last night.”

Oh.

Well, that was a revelation that Shouji hadn’t expected. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Bakugou was capable of being concerned - he rarely gathered with the class, but he had been there that morning after all - but to use the word scared? When his other two situations included him being at a serious risk of injury or death, the fact that he was including this situation, and specifically the fact that Kirishima hadn’t returned home, felt very significant.

“Come here.”

Kirishima again. Unease crept up Shouji’s spine as he heard the bed springs in the other room squeak and it occurred to him (and it probably should have occurred to him earlier) that this was the exact sort of moment that they wouldn’t want anyone to overhear. He wondered, if that was the reason for the thin walls in the dorms; to discourage private, quiet moments like this. He should leave, should give them their privacy, but this was his room so he shouldn’t have to leave and. . .

“Why are you letting me do this?”

He didn’t even know what they were doing; their voices were hushed and intimate and he guessed that they were both sitting on the bed. There was something in their voices; Bakugou’s had a desperate tinge to it, and he had remembered how pale the blond had been the entire day, but he also remembered how Bakugou had stormed off when Kaminari had tried to pull him into the crowd. Kirishima’s just sounded impassive, almost resigned.

He wanted to know why.

“I remember what I was like after Kamino.”

There was a silence that fell between the rooms, and Shouji could practically feel the tension between the two. He got up and gathered his blanket so he could give them their space. He wanted to let them have this moment before he overheard something he really didn’t want -

“I’m in love with you.”

- Nevermind.

He had never heard Bakugou sound so soft, so vulnerable, and Shouji immediately regretted overhearing it. Love confessions were not the kind of thing that needed to be overheard. He rushed his movements, being a little louder than he otherwise would of been, but at the moment he didn’t think either of the boys were paying attention.

“. . . This isn’t fair to me, Katsuki. You broke up with me suddenly, and then refused to talk to about it. You can’t just come in here and tell me you love me and it fix everything.”

Shouji swallowed thickly and closed his door as silently as he could, and made haste to the elevators. He hadn’t know how close those two had been, but he guessed that answered that question. He was kind of surprised, actually, because he had never heard anything from the next room over and he felt another surge of appreciation for Kirishima; he knew for a fact that Kirishima usually spent a lot of time in Bakugou’s room, and he had a feeling that decision was made with the fact Shouji was in just the next room over in mind. How considerate.

He thought about going to Tokoyami’s room to try and crash there, but he didn’t want to have to explain himself. He’d already overheard a sensitive moment for Bakugou and Kirishima; the least he could do was keep the rest of it a secret. So, he settled down on one of the bigger couches in the common room and set an alarm so he’d, hopefully, be awake before any of the classmates.

Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of the fact that some of his classmates kept very early morning habits, and he was shaken awake before dawn. He cracked his eyes opened and saw a lot of red and a concerned look.

“You okay, Shouji?” Kirishima whispered, and Shouji tried to figure out if the concern was for him, or if he was concerned that Shouji had overheard anything. But, really, considering the kind of person Kirishima was, he was probably only concerned for Shouji’s well being.

“I’m fine. What time is it?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes. Kirishima smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his head. Shouji couldn’t really make out many of his features in the dark, but he could tell that Kirishima looked tired. He wondered if he had gotten any sleep, and he wonder where him and Bakugou stood now.

“It’s only five am,” He said, and Shouji dropped his hand to stare at him. “I go for runs in the morning, but I saw you on the couch and was worried, you know? Why’d you sleep down here?”

Shouji blamed the early hour and the fact he had just woken up when his mind blanked for an excuse. He opened his mouth, and then after a second closed it again. All he had was the truth. “You and Bakugou sounded like you could use some privacy.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said, and he pulled away from the couch. When he stood, the moonlight caught his face and he looked as red as his hair. “Oh my god, Shouji, I am so sorry. I didn’t - it just happened and I couldn’t -”

Shouji snorted and held an arm out to stop his classmate from babbling. He sat up, and stretched, feeling his back pop; he had slept in worse places than the plush couches in the common room. When he glanced back up at Kirishima, the other boy’s face looked stricken, and Shouji frowned; he hadn’t meant to get him that worked up.

“It’s fine Kirishima, I just didn’t want to invade your privacy anymore than I already had. I left before I heard too much, I think,” He said, and Kirishima nodded, and after a second he seemed to relax a little. Shouji didn’t feel any more reassured though. “Are you okay Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked startled for a second, his eyes blinking wide and his mouth slacking in a silent ‘oh’, but then he blinked again and warmth flooded his face and a smile graced his lips. He hugged his arms around his stomach, as if he had hurt it from laughing.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“So you and Bakugou . . ?” Kirishima blushed again, but it wasn’t as harsh this time. Kirishima's smile tugged into a grin, and his excitement shone through his tiredness.

“Well, we need to talk about it again, but, yeah, I think we are,” He said, and his voice was heated with naked affection, and Shouji felt a little special that he got to hear the tone. Not that it wasn’t sickeningly saccharine and he didn’t really hear it again, but Shouji knew when he was privileged.

“You really love him, huh?” Shouji asked before he could stop himself. He expected Kirishima to get embarrassed again, but his grin just grew wider until his eyes were crinkling around the edges because it of its size.

“Yeah, I really do.”

Chapter Text

“. . . What?”

Todoroki couldn’t help but find the disbelief in Bakugou’s voice amusing. He glanced at him out the corner of his eyes, lips quirking up at his expression; the discontent and irritation that he had worn earlier had slipped entirely and been replaced by genuine bewilderment. His eyebrows were knitted together in the center of his forehead and his eyes had fogged over, like he was trying to answer a riddle.

Todoroki liked to think that he had gotten better with recognizing emotions.

“We’re talking about my Kirishima, right? Red, spiky hair and an overly muscular physique?” Bakugou asked, stepping out of the elevator with Todoroki but then stopping there. They were probably going to be late, but Todoroki felt like humoring Bakugou right now.

His relationship with Bakugou was complicated, to say in the least. They got along okay, as far as Bakugou got along with anyone that didn’t belong to his group of friends, but Bakugou still held a bit of a grudge against him for the Sports Festival, and while it had been improving drastically lately, his relationship with Todoroki’s best friend was still on the antagonistic side. However, they worked together okay, and Todoroki felt like they had a sort of camaraderie going.

Todoroki also felt a sort of odd kinship with the other boy. It was old news that Todoroki stuffed his emotions down until he was left with cold indifference, while Bakugou’s emotions exploded out of him, everything used to fuel the angry and prideful fire that kept him running, and even though these methods were probably on the opposite sides of the same spectrum, it left them similarly inexperienced with the more delicate emotions that most other people felt.

Although, he imagined that if he said that to Bakugou, he probably would have gotten yelled at.

“If that’s how you want to describe him,” Todoroki said, nodding. Bakugou’s eyebrows only pushed onward closer to his hairline, and Todoroki was a little fascinated.

“I -” His mouth opened and closed, and Todoroki was reminded of those little fishes. “Why?”

“Why?” Todoroki repeated. He must admit, that wasn’t the question he was expecting. Not that he was expecting anything specific, but it certainly wasn’t that. Todoroki wasn’t exactly the best person to ask about why other people did things; he rarely understood anyone but himself. He wasn’t like his friends, wasn’t like Midoriya, who just got people on a subconscious level.

Todoroki’s expression probably mirrored Bakugou’s as he tried to remember that night so long ago, as he tried to remember what Kirishima had said. “He said he wanted to say it out loud, so it would be real, I think.”

“He hadn’t even - we weren’t even - before Kamino?” Bakugou sputtered out. Todoroki nodded, and Bakugou stared at him. No, Bakugou stared through him. It reminded Todoroki of how people looked when Shinsou had taken over, all blank stares and slack faces. It was a little unnerving, if Todoroki was going to be honest. The next few silent moments seemed to stretch for a lot longer than maybe the minute they actually were, but then Bakugou visibly came back to himself. His eyes lit back up, and then his face pulled itself back in its characteristic scowl.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” Bakugou said, and Todoroki appreciated the self awareness. “God, he’s such a fucking idiot. Goddamnit.”

Bakugou blew a hot and angry breath through his teeth, and Todoroki just blinked at him. He wondered for a second if this was the wrong way to take this. Kirishima and Bakugou had looked happy wrapped up in their embrace while standing in the hallway, and while Todoroki wasn’t particularly invested in their happiness, if the choice was between them being happy and them being unhappy, he figured that the choice was pretty easy to make. He’d also feel guilty if he had a part to play in them being actively unhappy.

“I’m sorry, should I have not told you that?” Todoroki asked, and Bakugou looked at him like he had forgotten that he was even there. Then, he snorted in amusement and Todoroki had the distinct feeling that he was about to be made fun of.

“You sound like a fucking robot asking for feedback, what the hell Halfnhalf,” Bakugou said, and Todoroki pressed his lips together into a thin line, a little annoyed. The other teenager just snorted again and shook his head, a crooked smile crossing his lips. “You’re fine, Kirishima and I just make shit a lot more complicated than we need to.”

“But you’re okay then? You and him?” Todoroki found himself asking. He remembered the look on Kirishima’s face when he had told him that he loved Bakugou; the warm way his eyes had lit up and how the smile had smoothed the worn edges that the worry had dug into his skin. He looked similar to that, just a few minutes ago, despite the fact that both of the expressions had been marred by weariness, and it made Todoroki wonder what he’d look like when he was feeling nothing but that emotion.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Bakugou said, and he was looking at Todoroki again with another one of those expressions that made Todoroki think that he wasn’t actually looking at him. This must of been his version of Kirishima’s expression, because his eyes were warm and he was smiling. It was also unnerving.

“Why did you act so surprised that he told me?” Todoroki asked, and was a little relieved when Bakugou’s face was schooled back into one of his more normal looks. He eyed Todoroki, as if he was trying to decide whether or not he was worth this information. Then, he glanced away and started walking towards the doors. For a second, Todoroki thought he was just ignoring him, but when he glanced back he realized that he was supposed to be following Bakugou.

“Kirishima is -” Bakugou started after Todoroki had caught up, frowning like he was trying to find the right word. “He isn’t really comfortable with people knowing who he prefers to fuck.”

Oh.

“He did seem surprised that I didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he was gay,” Todoroki said. Bakugou titled his head in his direction, his gaze cool and assessing.

“And you aren’t bothered by that, right?” He asked. His voice was low, and even Todoroki could hear the subtle threat in his words. He shot Bakugou an unamused look because, one, he wasn’t scared of Bakugou, and two, he didn’t understand why everyone was expecting him to be homophobic and he didn’t like the implications.

“Of course I’m not,” He said, and Bakugou nodded. He looked away and rolled his shoulders, shaking tension that Todoroki hadn’t even noticed before out of them.

“So, yeah, that’s why I was surprised as fuck when you said Kirishima told you,” Bakugou said, and there was something final in his tone, something that said he was done talking about this. Todoroki shrugged casually and blithely ignored this fact.

“I would have thought you would have cared more than him, to be honest,” He said, and Bakugou glared at him from the corner of his eyes.

“When have I ever given a shit about what other people thought?” He barked, and Todoroki glanced at him, giving him a deliberate once over and pausing meaningfully at Bakugou’s saggy pants and his unbuttoned shirt. Then, he shrugged again.

“Pretty often, actually,” He said, and then promptly started walking faster so he was out of reaching distance before Bakugou registered what he said.

“What the - Oi, what the fuck you on about? Hey, don’t walk in front of me you ass!”