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Bakugou and Kirishima had been together since high school, been through a lot and settled down some years ago. Now they lived together, worked together, had mutual friends, and although Bakugou would never admit that out loud, they were happy.
He was happy, because that shitty-haired idiot, Kirishima Eijirou, actually found his way into Bakugou Katsuki’s heart .
Kirishima’s presence became natural and felt right over the years, and by now they had a established routine and space in each other’s daily life.
Therefore it was easy to recognize even the slightest bit of change.
And for Bakugou it was just as easy to overlook and disregard those kind of abnormalities.
Bakugou and Kirishima had two beds: a comfortable and spacious one in a big and lively room and a single bed in another small and plain room.
The main reason was that, even though the couple was part of the same -Bakugou’s- agency, they often were on duty at different times. So they invested in a spare bed, which promptly turned into Kirishima’s, as Bakugou refused to sleep in anything but theirs.
Usually it had only been sloppily tidied up and left alone, though.
However, at some point Kirishima started cleaning it more often; preparing it more neatly, saying that Racoon Eye’s called him out on how unhygienic neglecting it was.
Bakugou didn’t care; he should have done that from the beginning anyway. He pushed away the fact that he himself had already informed Kirishima about this, because he didn’t want to think about it.
It was fucking odd, so he looked away.
---
Some weeks later, Kirishima’s scent, which naturally spread in the room and was usually present in the air, seemed to weaken.
It was undoubtedly still lingering, yet there was something different; a variation, something blending in - something familiar .
Bakugou, however, didn’t want to couldn’t think about what it could possibly be.
It didn’t make him feel uneasy, not-at-fucking-all .
---
It was over with ‘didn’t want to’s when he had his first undeniable hunch.
Their closest friend, Kaminari Denki, changed little by little and Bakugou initially wasn’t really aware of it, but at some point it was just too damn conspicuous.
Stopping to pester him with stupid texts and memes, not inviting himself when the blond and his lover went out, rarely calling their agency when he was on duty and Kaminari needed backup; his best friend was blatantly avoiding him - in case they actually did meet, Kaminari wasn’t his usual touchy, bright self.
Still, the worst was that his amber eyes didn’t seem to dare meet his ruby ones.
It was plainly obvious that something was off and Bakugou really tried not to connect it to Kirishima, because his partner was just like usual - neither more distant nor more loving, if even possible.
He didn’t want to and it was fucking laughable how much he tried not to, but he couldn’t stop connecting the dots regardless.
It was impossible due to Kirishima’s reaction to Bakugou voicing concern over Kaminari’s behavior; changing the topic, avoiding the question with telling him that there was nothing wrong or that maybe Kaminari was just a little busy because he was just like usual.
Coming from the most caring and worrying guy Bakugou ever met, it was flat out a load of bullshit.
Fucking shit. Dammit, there was something off.
No .
He couldn’t think about anything. Not a single fucking thing. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Nothing - but a thought that seemed endlessly ridiculous.
He remembered how desperately Kirishima struggled to win Bakugou over, how much he fought for his sake and how Kaminari their friends supported and helped his lover.
Thinking about the way his significant other had looked at him back then, the way he still looked at Bakugou to this day.
Looking back at the couple’s friendship with Kaminari; his words, the way he always reminded Bakugou that Kirishima loved him unconditionally whenever they fought and he feared that he had gone too far, the way Kaminari supported Kirishima when he was insecure of not being good enough for Bakugou and encouraged him, the way he was always there with nothing but acceptance and love for Kirishima, Bakugou and their relationship.
And especially seeing Kirishima’s crimson eyes that devoured Bakugou every time he was being held. The eyes that melted with desire at every moan escaping Bakugou’s mouth, his hot lips that tasted every spot they could reach by now, and the tender words full of love and warmth after reaching the consuming heights of pleasure together.
It was fucking absurd to think what he thought, and Bakugou knew that.
He knew that he was everything Kirishima ever wanted. He knew that Kaminari was the best friend he could have. He knew that neither of them would ever do something like this to begin with. And he also knew that they would never betray him.
Bakugou knew all that - theoretically. Still, he wasn’t stupid either. He wasn’t blinded by the feeling of friendship or love, so he saw the truth.
Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck. Holy fuck. There was definitely something going on. Damn pieces of shit.
Yet Bakugou deliberately ignored it, because he didn’t fucking want to believe any of this shit. Burying all this disgusting emotions -which obviously weren’t his, there was no way that those were Bakugou fucking Katsuki’s feelings - inside of him; anger, humiliation, disappointment, frustration, disgust, shame, broken trust and pride, but mostly pain and the feeling of a breaking heart.
---
Until the day Kirishima and him set off on a trip, since they had a two-week break together.
Until he just couldn’t ignore it anymore, when he saw the first evidence; as if mocking him for not wanting to destroy what he had built up since high school, as if looking down on him for wordlessly accepting that his Kirishima was not his anymore.
If it had only been the golden, not ash -, blond hair, Bakugou might have been able to disregard it, might have been able to keep his mouth shut, might have been able to hold onto the last bit of denial, might have - but it was not only that so he couldn’t.
Seeing the sight in front of him, after getting asked by his asshole of a lover to get something from the backseat of the car, Bakugou was first met with confusion, but the next second it hit him; the memory of a men’s night years ago.
A drunk Kaminari who had embarrassingly confessed that, sometimes, when he was overwhelmed by pleasure to the point of losing his senses, he’d discharge .
Discharge an amount of electricity that burned sheets as if it was nothing.
It was burned - the backseat’s fabric was burned.
Without knowing you would easily be able to miss it, but Bakugou noticed.
He noticed the way the light burn ever so slightly resembled the proof of small explosions escaping sweaty palms, when Bakugou himself couldn’t control his quirk in the euphoria of lust.
Yet it wasn’t his; it couldn’t have been his, because he never allowed doing it in the car.
And suddenly the image of them; Kaminari losing his senses more and more with every thrust, Kirishima with his breathtaking affectionate gaze directed at somebody who was not himself, formed inside his head.
It hurts. Fucking disgusting bastards.
A sickening wave of abhorrence overcame him.
Fucking shit. They did it. Here. Inside the fucking car. My car. Our car, dammit.
Nausea rose from his stomach, and resulted in a aching heartburn.
The cause of it was not even suspecting his discovery and suddenly the lack of guilt in Kirishima’s voice, eyes, body language, just everything crushed down on him in a consuming arbor of wrath.
However, it was different than usual. Not heated and fierce, but ice cold and impersonal.
Without exploding, both emotional and physical, but a voice filled with more odium than he had ever directed at Kirishima, he asked, “Yo, fucker. You got something to tell me, don’t you?”
Astonishment was written on the other’s face shortly before he answered - still without hesitation, “What’s wrong, babe? I haven’t heard you talk like that with anybody but villains since years. What do you think I gotta tell you?”
I feel sick. Don’t think I am stupid, asshole.
Bakugou grunted, “Then tell me how’s Pikachu?”
His partner only raised a eyebrow - once again without a trace of guilt, “Hm? I already told you he was fine? Really, what’s up, man? You miss him that much?”
Shit. Shit. Bloody hell. Cunning bastard.
The blond dodged the elbow that teasingly aimed at him. “Stop the car.”
“What?!”
“You heard me, dipshit. Stop. The. Fucking. Car. Or I’ll kill you.”
Under his blank, too blank , murderous gaze, Kirishima parked and then faced him properly.
The blond watched the red-head opening his mouth, but before he was even able to speak Bakugou had already slammed the door open; almost breaking it with his brute force.
Without checking the face his ex-lover made, he spat out cold words filled with agony loathing, “Fuck you. Seriously, drop dead. Never call me again, if it’s not for work’s sake. And you two should be careful. Wouldn’t want you to overcharge him, would we?”
Upon hearing how the other choked on the air he had sucked in sharply a second before, followed by desperate ‘Katsuki’s, ‘Let me explain’s and ‘Wait’s, Bakugou started to run and used his superior speed to leave Kirishima behind.
Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.
Akin hysterical, he searched for a place with nothing but rubble; a place where he didn’t have to worry about getting seen or hurting civilians - Bakugou was a hero after all.
Still, as soon as he found a dump Bakugou didn’t feel like a hero anymore.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.
His throat tightened and he couldn’t breathe as his heart rate rose. The sickening wave now entirely crushing down on him, he threw up. The taste of vomit filling his mouth and pain lying heavy in his chest, he screamed silently.
I don’t care. I’m fine. I am the best. I’m fucking fine. I’m not.
Bakugou went rampage and there was nothing but: Sweat. Blood. Pain. Heat. Explosions.
Until he desperate struggled for air, without realizing that he already breathed and breathed and breathed too damn fucking much .
I’m suffocating. I am able to handle that much. I need help.
His head pounded so much that he couldn’t think straight and became unaware of his surroundings and even himself.
Then his whole body trembled, his vision getting blurry as he teared up.
Suddenly, he became dizzy and everything went dark.
Bakugou blacked out.
When Bakugou regained consciousness, he felt disassociated and in a haze. It took some time until his senses recovered and he perceived his surroundings again.
The first thing that his eyes caught sight of were bicolored hair and unusually concerned mismatched eyes.
“Huh?!”
He had no idea how that came about, but Todoroki enlightened him on that.
Bakugou had called him, but the other man couldn’t hear anything but rapid, heavy breathing and groaning, so Todoroki checked the GPS and headed there as fast as he could. Todoroki found him lying on the ground; collapsed, covered in wounds, bruises, blood, dirt, vomit. So he brought him home, then cleaned and patched him up, before putting him into his bed to rest.
Of course, fucking figures.
He couldn’t have gone home. Whose home anyway? Couldn’t have possibly contacted his best friend, Kaminari. Couldn’t have brought himself to count on their mutual friends, because they were too close to them Kirishima.
So, without remembering how, he ended up asking for help of calling over the only person he occasionally kept in contact with outside of work and, for some reason, also the only classmate that Kirishima actually did not actively keep in contact with himself.
Pathetic coward.
Running away without really breaking up or having actually confronted them. Still not wanting to admit that they had actually betrayed him.
Even though Bakugou never trusted anybody but himself; even though he never loved anybody more than himself. - He wanted to trust Kirishima and Kaminari until the very end, because he actually loved them, though in different ways, more than himself.
Katsuki, you’re fucking weak.
With his phone turned off the whole time, and Todoroki keeping quiet and lying to Kirishima about not knowing where he was - even lying to Deku who had kept pestering him in worry, it was rather easy for Bakugou to stay at Todoroki’s place for the next two weeks, which were previously planned as vacation.
It was to be expected, but at the beginning the atmosphere was a little odd - borderline uncomfortable actually, but it changed rather quickly.
It would have been a lie to claim that Bakugou was fine in the least; Todoroki knew that and even the blond himself started to slowly come to terms with reality, but the fact that the heterochromatic man was, truthfully, really patient with the blond made things easier.
Staying with the other was, to Bakugou’s surprise, not all that unpleasant, though it still would have been impossible to assume that he enjoyed it - for obvious reasons however.
So they steadily started to engage in normal conversation, eat -at some point even cook- together, watch TV and be able to leave each other alone, but also silently keep the other company.
Bakugou wasn’t sure why but Todoroki didn’t ask questions.
Not about why he was in that dump, went rampage, had called him out of all people, didn’t call Kirishima, refused to go home, or told him to keep quiet about his stay.
Bakugou figured that it was because of worry, pity or the other’s sense of heroism - though sometimes the two-colored eyes displayed something that the blond couldn’t quite put a finger on.
It wasn’t to his liking, but he didn’t complain, get angry, throw a fit, or call him out on treating him as if he was weak.
Bakugou didn’t care, because he was too drained to bother with anything at all.
He had been filled with so much wrath before, but now he was merely empty and somewhat indifferent.
He didn’t even dare think about what he really felt like; broken. Did not even dare to admit what he truly was; suffering. And saw round the fact that Todoroki probably didn’t ask question because he could see through him; his loneliness.
Todoroki had been aware of his two-week break and only at the end of it he asked.
Though he didn’t ask for any kind of reasoning or explanation, but simply about what he intended to do now and, even without Bakugou saying a single word about Kirishima, he advised him to either make up or stop running away and get it over with.
Unfortunately Todoroki, who grew to understand others better over the years, was a smart bastard.
Bakugou had no idea why, neither feeling something like safety nor trust, but he confided in him regardless.
He didn’t tell him about his feelings, or his denial and ignorance for weeks - turning into months , but about the reason why he didn’t go home, about Kaminari, about how he left Kirishima without talking it out, and even about the fact that he didn’t know how to cope with any of it.
The blond didn’t really look at the other during the whole conversation, but Todoroki’s responses were cold, almost hostile, and when he actually caught a glimpse of him Bakugou found a expression which displayed exactly the opposite, directed at him. The fact that the other would show this kind of emotions for his sake was soothing in a way.
It wasn’t that he felt better or that the bitter feelings inside of him disappeared, of fucking course not, but talking about it and Todoroki’s company helped regardless.
The conversation resulted in Bakugou feeling like himself again; like he didn’t have to torment himself anymore.
Talking about it was like lifting a burden up his shoulders and it made him feel stronger again; strong enough to break up, to move out, to not let his emotions take over and kill both Kirishima and Kaminari, and strong enough to admit that he couldn’t get over it and couldn’t see them again.
Todoroki drove Bakugou to the apartment and waited in the car outside.
Before entering, the blond checked that it was empty and then packed his stuff. He was done pretty quickly, because he didn’t actually have that much valuable personal belongings. So he didn’t feel the need to take a lot of things with him.
Afterwards he waited for Kirishima to come home. Some time passed until he arrived and he was not alone; of fucking course not.
Both seemed rather gloomy, but upon realizing Bakugou’s presence Kirishima brightened up and ran towards him; while Kaminari froze in place and averted his guilt- and pain-filled face.
It was the kind of expression that Bakugou wanted to see on the red-head’s face.
Bakugou kept Kirishima from carrying out his attempt at throwing his arms around him, while hissing coldly, “Bastard, I didn’t come here with the intention to kill you, so move before I change my fucking mind. Besides, your boyfriend looks like he’s about to cry, shitty hair.”
Kirishima froze; face darkening, Kaminari visibly jerked and something inside of Bakugou screamed.
“Oh, damn, come on. Don’t pretend like I just found out or some shit. Eijirou, you understood damn well what I meant two weeks ago.” Silence. Bakugou glared at their shaken faces. “Fan-fucking-tastic, I didn’t want to talk about it either way. I am here to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?!” Kirishima exclaimed, after seemingly snapping back out of his earlier state. “No, babe. Don’t-”
“I swear to god, don’t you dare call me that way!” The blond reflexively slammed his fist against the wall next to him. Kaminari only sucked in a sharp breath at the sound, still not daring to even glance at Bakugou. While Kirishima didn’t reply, being too occupied with staring at his hand with wide eyes, before looking him up and down. Well, Bakugou was still covered in bandages, band-aids and bruises. He continued, his hand gesticulating towards the packed boxes, “As you can see, I’m moving, and I will neither come back nor see you again.”
“But!” Kirishima trembled and clenched his fist. “But… you love me don’t you?”
The blond grunted, but he didn’t feel the need to lie, “‘course I do, asshole. I wouldn’t have been with your sorry ass for seven fucking years, if I’d get over you in two damn weeks.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched upon seeing a shimmer in the other’s red ones.
Kirishima glanced at Kaminari, “But then we-”
“Shut up! Whatever you want to say, drop it.” He also looked at the other blond. “Don’t be a selfish brat. You shouldn’t love me, and you also shouldn’t think about sleeping with me, because I won’t.”
“Then let’s-”
“Jesus Christ! I won’t be your damn fucking friend either!”
His voice was firm and cold; Bakugou was dead serious and left no room for arguments.
Silence.
It seems like it efficiently shut Kirishima up and Kaminari still didn’t seem to be able to say anything at all, so Bakugou grabbed his phone and informed Todoroki that he could come, before pushing his stuff to the doorstep.
The atmosphere was heavy and uncomfortable silence surrounded the three men, until Todoroki’s steady footsteps came closer.
“..T- Todoroki?” Kirishima was audibly uneasy and his face displayed shock as he caught sight of the two-colored guy at the doorstep. ”...Why?..”
Todoroki didn’t even spare a glance at both Kirishima and Kaminari, not saying a single word.
“I’ve been with him the last two weeks,” Bakugou explained brusque, handing Todoroki the largest box while taking two semi-large-sized ones himself. “I’ll be moving to him for now.”
The shark-teethed mouth opened and closed severally, but nothing left his lips.
Only as the two men attempted to walk off, he spoke. “Katsuki, can I.. just ask one thing?”
Bakugou signalled Todoroki to go ahead and waited for him to leave before letting out a long, annoyed sigh.
“The fuck do you want?”
It somehow seemed as if he didn’t actually have something urgent to ask, as he took a while to answer.
“Since when did you know?”
Bakugou averted his gaze while clicking his tongue, but really didn’t give a shit anymore.
“The first thing that got me thinking was that you’ve made your bed,” he snorted, though bitter, because it sounded ridiculous. “Then your scent faded.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened, voice wavering, “That.. was.. months ago..”
He smiled wryly, “I tried to think that it was nothing. Convinced myself. But I realized that Kaminari was slowly starting to avoid me, to a point were he was just too damn obvious. Like really dude, what was that? And you, Eijirou, might have been a fucking decent liar, but how obvious can you be, man? You really think I believed all that shit? I choose to ignore it. I probably would have ripped off your ugly head if it was just anybody, but it was Kaminari.. So I let you.”
Bakugou spoke calmly, really, but inwardly he got eaten up by aching pain and he was awfully aware of the fact that his face wasn’t as composed as his voice.
“Honestly. I think.. I was secretly glad to see the burn in the car. I was glad - really glad, because it was like a punch in the guts that refused to be ignored. It made me sick, so fucking sick that I couldn’t deny anything anymore.”
Kirishima, who had dropped his head at some point, looked up at Bakugou’s face - as a result droplets of water rolled down his cheeks.
“Katsuki, I.. I.. I.. am.. so.. sorry.. “
“Screw you,” he hissed, lacking actual bite. “Let’s talk about how we’ll handle work in the agency.”
He never saw Kirishima so hurt and lost. He never saw Kaminari so quiet and ashamed.
Bakugou did not care.
He turned around to see Todoroki; grimacing in slight sorrow. Bakugou hadn’t even realized that he had gotten back, so he was not aware of how much the other man heard.
But he did not care anymore.
After Todoroki’s cold eyes traveled over the other two men, he silently took one of the boxes out of Bakugou’s arms.
When they turned to walk away, for the first time today, Bakugou heard Kaminari’s voice.
“Bakugou! Will you.. Will you give up on trusting people again? Like before?”
They locked eyes. The irises that resembled the bright sun looked straight into Bakugou’s deep red for the first time in months.
Too many emotions to count were displayed in them.
“You know me too damn well,” Bakugou huffed. “You really were my best friend, huh. - ..but..”
For one short moment he pushed away his bottled up emotions. Pushed away the realization of what he was about to lose, the aching humiliation of getting betrayed, his awareness of the impact those two had on his life.
For one last answer he looked towards the future, and not the present which, he knew, will be filled with agony and emptiness for some time from now on.
He glanced at the evidence of his moving in their arms, looked up at the bicolored man standing next to him and locked gazes with a pair of ash-grey and blue-green eyes.
“No.”
Maybe I’ll train myself to trust again.
After they walked off, Kirishima stood still for a moment before running after Bakugou.
However, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw how Todoroki pulled Bakugou towards himself.
How he buried his face into the taller’s shoulder and clenched one hand into a fist while clutching the other onto the fabric of Todoroki’s shirt.
How the scarred man stroked blond hair for something that felt like eternity, waiting for the trembling body pressed against his own to calm down and lose it’s tension.
It was not supposed to be possible for him to hear the two men. Still, it was as if the sound of choked breathing, broken cursing and low sobbing resonated in his ears regardless.