Chapter Text
Two knocks echoed from Kirishima's door, shaking him out of his room's silence. He jumped up from his chair at the sudden sound. Wondered what someone needed from him so early in the morning, and who it could be.
"Yeah?" he yelled out, questioning the knocker before resigning to answer it. He heard no response but popped up regardless to open the door (covered in its entirety by a poster of Crimson Riot).
Bakugo stood outside. His expression had its usual sour tone, but Kirishima knew it always ran deeper. Under the rough surface, he was conflicted, thoughts miles away and hard to reel in. His eyes gave no insight into why he was there - pupils ticking like a time bomb made of whatever emotion he'd finally let blow.
Kirishima was the first to speak, "Hey Bakugo. finally payin' your neighbors a visit?" His friend's room was directly to his left, but he'd never been in it. Or even seen the blond for the past few days ever since Class 1-A finally moved in to their new dorms. He imagined Bakugo’s room would be decorated like him, though, barren on the surface but holding secrets if you dared to look deeper.
"Something like that," he replied, pursing his lips. He looked like he wanted to say something but was trying not to. Something serious, not just his usual explosive, angry comments.
"I mean, come in if you want. My room's a bit bare, I ran outta posters." He flashed a shark tooth grin in an attempt to break through. Bakugo looked around for a split second and narrowed his eyes at the walls, already littered with the redhead's favorite pro-hero and inspirational quotes like "Trying hard only works if your heart's in it!"
It was so utterly Kirishima. Bakugo had to stop himself from smirking, even with the weights on his thoughts. He shuffled in and shut the door behind him, leaning against it and keeping a few feet of distance between them. A safety barrier.
"You're awake early," Kirishima commented, plopping back down in the desk chair near the front of his room. He usually never heard Katsuki's door burst open and slam shut until well past noon.
"I always wake up this early, shitty-hair, I just came over here instead of lifting weights," Bakugo looked relieved at the small talk, although his voice still had something behind it, hiding in the dark. It felt painful - regretful. Kirishima had an idea what it was but acted no different. Hoped his impulsive friend wouldn't suddenly lash out.
"You caught me before I spiked it, man!" Kirishima replied earnestly, suddenly embarrassed. It was the first time Bakugo had seen his hair down. Did he look uncool? Did he still look like a hero?
"I could try fixing it with a little explosion. it'd make your hair stick up or burn it off," He gave hint of a smile. "Either one would be an improvement"
Kirishima grabbed his own head as if to protect it. "I'll kill you."
"That’s my line."
Kirishuma didn't respond. Saw the sudden potential in Bakugo's wavering eyes and waited patiently while he worked up the nerve to do whatever he actually came to do.
"I just..." The smallest voice he ever heard left Bakugo's mouth. It was like a foreign language.
"Mm?"
"Take this, alright? Fucking here, and stop looking at me like that." Bakugo suddenly tore a handful of large-billed yen out of his pocket, voice raised back to his normal half yell.
"Wha? Look at you like what? Why are you giving me money, you're freakin' me out, Blasty" Kirishima waved his hands in front of his face, confused and alarmed.
"I said take it! It's for the shitty night vision camera, okay?" He spat out, looking at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but Kirishima's questioning eyes.
"Oh," he realized. He looked pointedly at the hero, then slowly reached out to grab the bills, brushing Katsuki's fingers once he did. He felt him flinch before pulling away. He blinked, finally realizing that Bakugo meant the technology he had bought specifically for Bakugo’s rescue mission. He never intended to ask for repayment. Him being safe was enough - the feeling of losing him was gut-wrenching enough to spend any amount to get him back.
Kirishima hesitated, wanting to say something, but took too long to figure out what.
"Are we good?" Katsuki snarled. He was being short, masking himself through a shield of anger. But Kirishima could see right through it. It was never hard to read someone you knew inside and out.
"You don't have to pay me back, man. I never asked you to."
“Yeah, well I just did." Stubborn as ever, a trait he paraded constantly.
Kirishima sighed, tossing the bills onto his desk. "It wasn't just me, y'know. Getting you back was a team effort."
Bakugo let his guard down for a split second, admiration replacing guilt, just barely enough time for Kirishima to catch it. He was glad he did.
"Iida told me it was your idea."
"I couldn't have save-" Kirishima began, but was cut off by a blast.
"YOU DIDN'T SAVE ME, I NEVER ASKED TO BE RESCUED." Kirishima flinched at the sudden outburst. It was unwarranted, but he understood why Bakugo was so frustrated. He abhorred help, let alone from a team of people he viewed as below him. Especially a team with Deku in the lead.
In his head, Kirishima remembered it all so clearly, having replayed both the kidnapping and their operation again and again, like a maddening torture. Kirishima's outstretched hand, pleading smile with the groups' hope plastered behind it - praying that Bakugo wouldn't shy from help. Hoping that he would give in if it was the face of his rival he saw. Together a duo with mutual respect and criss-crossing power.
He could draw the knowing smirk he had finally received from memory. Katsuki had frantically reached upward, grasping his hand tightly like an old friend. The memory that burned the deepest was when Bakugo hadn't let go immediately after they landed. He had squeezed his hand once, rugged but authentic, like an unspoken thank you. Like him.
"I...couldn't forgive myself when you were captured. I wasn't there," Kirishima finally said, feeling all the weakness that came from the admission. Letting words spill from his mouth like an open letter.
"It wouldn't have mattered," Bakugo said truthfully, trying not to hurt the other’s feelings.
"It mattered to me," Kirishima clenched his fist, eyes littered with frustration. He stared past his friend at a poster on the wall behind him. Read the speech bubble drawn from Crimson Riot’s mouth like it was mocking him specifically.
If you have guts, anything is possible!
"I never asked to be rescued," Bakugo repeated, calmer this time which shook Kirishima out of his haze instantly. His tone wasn’t defeated, but probably as close to acceptance as he could get, "But… I'm glad it was you who did it."
Kirishima let the comment diffuse into the air. It was genuine. Made his chest twist with pride, and maybe something more.
"Me too," he met his eyes again, red against red. Fire against fire.
He didn't expect Bakugo to open up like this. It was almost a shock, but Kirishima had realized something when the rescue group so easily agreed for him to be the one Katsuki saw. He actually liked the crazy fuck. Every one of his personality quirks: his random bouts of fury that both shocked him and made him laugh, the intense rivalry with anyone he deemed strong enough (including himself), the shine his eyes took when his determination burned through him so deeply.
Kirishima admired it all, and was frustrated that it took until Bakugo's capture to realize it. He knew the hero didn't like being the center of attention, but Kiri had to wonder - had he felt alone at U.A. until now? It was a question he'd never get an answer to. Didn’t dare to ask in case Bakugo took it the wrong way.
"You know I had 'em, right?" Katsuki suddenly commented, voice giving nothing away from his earlier admissions.
"Wha-?" Kirishima shook out of his thoughts, wondering if the other had read them on his face and chose to interrupt.
"Didn't you see me right before I grabbed hold of you? I had a plan, and it was good too. I could've beaten their asses and got out myself."
"It was like six against one, man. I don't think even a nuclear bomb coulda did it."
"No confidence in me, huh?" His fists sparked.
"Bakugo, If there's one person I believe in, it's you." His sincerity was killer, always surprising Katsuki - even humbling him. If he could ever blush, now would be the time. Instead he fell back on his normal snarky sarcasm as a deflection.
"Yeah, what about your shrines to Crimson Riot, Red?"
Kirishima decided in an instant to be as candid as he could. He wasn’t one to hold back. "He was my idol growin' up. He inspired me to be the manly hero I am today, of course he's gonna be on my wall!" he pounded his chest with a fist for effect, "but Katsuki, you're something else."
Bakugo froze at the way he addressed him, at the twinkle in his eye. He felt exposed by it.
"When I watch you fight it's like I feel somethin' in my bones," a nervous smile, but full nonetheless – infectous, "I always try to be stronger, and the level you're at pushes me more than Crimson Riot ever did. He made me confident, but you make me want to be the best."
At U.A., you're my hero."
You’re …my… hero?
Bakugo couldn't think of anything to say to rival that. He never realized it went this deep between them, that he had inadvertently became someone to look up to. How had he been so blind to the redhead's expressions? Did he deserve it?
During the first attack on USJ when they fought together, he only saw Kirishima’s snarls and determined eyes to beat the enemy. If he could play it back in his head would he notice more? Glances at Bakugo when he used his quirk, admiring his strength? Open mouthed smiles, revering him like someone worthy enough to aspire to be like?
Katsuki couldn't stop the blush this time, didn’t know how. It covered his neck and ears. It ruined him.
"You're ridiculous," Brushing off the remark was his instinct, but the loss of Kirishima's smile told him it was the wrong thing to say.
"I mean...fuck. That's not what I meant." Bakugo put his hand on his forehead, furrowing his brows. Kirishima deserved better than this, way better than he was giving him. It had been so long since he respected someone this much. Since he let his walls crumble enough to let someone sneak in and befriend him.
"I don't deserve your praise, I let myself get captured by villains. Most of them were weak. I should’ve been able to beat them."
"But you didn't cave to them."
"How do you know that?"
"Cause you're here. If there was even a ghost of a chance you wanted to be a villain, you wouldn't be."
"They must've seen something in me to try," Bakugo had never opened up like this. He never planned on talking about his kidnapping, choosing instead to deal with it in silence. This felt better than being alone in his cold prison, whether he admitted it or not.
"Well they're pretty stupid then. You've always had the heart of a hero." Kirishima smiled up at Katsuki. It felt like an embrace.
"You really are a sap," he replied, sighing, "But thanks, hair for brains." He paused for a moment, like he didn't know how to phrase his next comment. "No one else... talks to me like this."
"Well that's because they're terrified of you," Kirishima snorted, pushing himself off his chair and instead sitting on the corner of his desk. A spark emitted from Katsuki's open palm as he stepped closer.
"Are you?" He tried to look menacing.
"Not a chance," Kirishima beamed, "I'm not scared of anything anymore."
Bakugo moved his hand closer still, crackling with explosive potential. Kirishima didn't stop smiling, never did in the face of danger. His confidence breathed life into the room. It swirled around Bakugo and he felt it lift him up, one piece at a time.
"Tch, fine, I believe you," he admitted, poking Kirishima's forehead with a quirkless touch. Crimson eyes twinkled back at him. Katsuki looked at the scar above his right eye, suddenly itching to ask what happened instead of any of the more embarrassing things threatening to come out of him.
"Wondering where I got this manly mark?" Kirishima asked, reading his mind. "The story isn't as badass as the scar. I had no clue that my quirk appeared at first and accidentally sliced myself."
"I like it," Katsuki couldn't believe that just left his mouth. The scar added to him, gave him a backstory, made him feel real. It was ragged like his quirk. It was authentic like both his normal and hero self. But Kirishima didn’t need to know he thought of it that way. He felt his palms clam up with glycerin-derived sweat, wanted them to explode as a distraction.
"Ya do? I always wished it went down my whole eye, how badass would that be?" Kirishima seemed to ignore his comment, but in reality he didn’t know how to interpret it. Did he really like how it looked? Did he want to reach out and touch it – touch him?
"Good thing you weren't stupid enough to maul yourself that badly."
"Shut up," Kirishima hopped off the desk and playfully pushed Bakugo on the chest. He was probably the only one who could ever get away with it.
"Make me."
"Is that a challenge!"
"Pf. It's too early to fight, hedgehog head. Call me in a few hours when you want beat."
“You’re acting like you know you’ll win,” Kirishima grumbled, wondering what a true fight between them would really look like.
"Oh," Bakugo began, eyes smoldering. Boring into Kirishima’s face like drills, “I always win.”
The way Katsuki said it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. His confidence was killer. Bombs in his narrowed eyes, smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth – his expression dipped in pride with a hint of crazy.
And it was... tempting.
Kirishima tried not to give anything away on his face. Tried to shoot a look that said “yeah right” instead of "ruin me.” He didn't have to stumble for words long when Bakugo pushed off from the wall suddenly, seemingly to be ready to leave. But his movements were slow, like he was waiting for Kiri to stop him - expected and welcomed it.
"Do you wanna get breakfast? Or something." Kirishima blurted, playing into his game (if there actually was one). He stitched on the last two words as a safeguard, trying to act like he didn't want a yes as much as he did.
"Yeah, 'course." Bakugo replied easily, like their friendship was secured now. Like this was their new norm. Bakugo was thankful the other hero didn't push anything, just a simple act, eating lunch together without pretense. He was surprised how much he glowed from the invitation and hoped it wasn’t too obvious on his face. He had an image to keep up.
"Okay," Kirishima smiled, reaching his core, a sharp grin so open he might as well be asking for someone to snatch it. Bakugo felt his worries fall away for the first time since his capture - since he had looked at Kirishima's hand, open like a gift he didn't deserve but took all the same.