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It all starts when Bakugou aims a palm in Denki’s general direction, nitroglycerin rising from his pores in preparation for a threatening explosion, but electricity crackles above his skin and jolts him instead.
Everyone freezes for a moment that feels like it goes on forever, and Denki feels a distinct sense of dread settle over him. This is it, he thinks, he’s gonna get murdered by a hothead who got his hands on Denki’s quirk, and it’s probably all his own fault.
“Kaminari,” Bakugou says ominously, palms sparking with energy in a way so similar to his normal explosions, yet so different with another power coursing through him. “Use your quirk,” he commands.
Nervously, Denki lifts up a hand, searching for the current within him and channeling it to his hands. Please still be electricity, please still be electri—his palm ignites with a tiny explosion, the sound akin to a firecracker rather than a bomb, and Denki accepts his death.
“Why the hell do you have my quirk?” Underneath the anger, Denki thinks he sees just a hint of fear, but he’s feeling too damn afraid himself to address it.
“I don’t know, Bakugou, give me a second!” He pushes energy to his palms again, hoping against all odds that it was just a fluke, but twin explosions erupt and anxiety sinks its claws into him.
“It must have been the villains who cornered you both on your patrol,” Midoriya contributes, watching warily from somewhere nearby, but still choosing to speak up. “Maybe one of them could swap quirks upon contact? If they touched you while you were restraining them, that could have done it, though I’ve never seen a quirk like that, and it would imply altering the Quirk Factor, which should be impossible—”
“Shut up, shut up!” Bakugou shouts, electricity snapping between his palms and up his forearms. Immediately, he doubles over in pain, and Denki feels like he’s watching in slow motion as Bakugou jerks and collapses to the ground.
“Oh my god, Bakugou, fuck!” Denki drops to his knees and hoists Bakugou’s torso upright by his shoulders. Distantly, he’s aware of Midoriya panicking and Iida announcing that he’s getting Recovery Girl and Aizawa before sprinting away, and his other classmates’ worry fades into white noise while Denki stares at Bakugou’s slack face.
It would be like he was asleep if he hadn’t been yelling one second and unconscious the next, but as it is, Denki can’t appreciate how gentle Bakugou looks when his face isn’t all twisted up.
Yaoyorozu has a supportive hand on Denki’s shoulder while Kirishima tries to comfort him and worry over Bakugou at the same time, but they both back away when Aizawa approaches.
“What happened to him?” their teacher asks, calm but firm as he presses two fingers under Bakugou’s jaw where his pulse should be. Denki enhales harshly when Aizawa nods in reassurance, having to repeat Bakugou’s not dead inside his mind over and over to push away the panic attack he’s seconds from.
“O-our quirks, they’re swapped, or something, I don’t know, I just—” Denki inhales too quickly and it hurts his chest, but he tries to keep speaking. “He got angry when he made electricity, and then I made explosions and he got worse a-and then I guess he shocked himself and, shit—”
“Okay, okay, Kaminari, you need to breathe. Yaoyorozu, help him, alright? I’m taking Bakugou to the infirmary.”
“Yes, sensei!” she says, instantly returning to kneel in front of Denki and tilting his face up to look at her. He gulps hard as he watches Bakugou get carried away.
“Breathe with me, Kaminari-san.” Her voice is firm, and he tries to anchor himself with it. “In for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight, okay? Do it with me…”
✼
Eventually, Denki calms down enough to take a short nap in his room. He’s exhausted from the combination of training, patrolling, and thinking he’s killed his friend all in one day. Though he’s tired, he can’t properly wind down when he doesn’t know if Bakugou’s okay or not. He stares up at his dorm ceiling blankly after spending no more than twenty minutes asleep, berating himself for whatever mistake he must have made to get into a situation like this.
He’s always thought it’d be super cool to have a quirk as powerful as Bakugou’s even though it technically isn’t that different in mechanics from his own. But now, with the explosive power Denki knows is simmering beneath the skin of his palms, he’d gladly short out his brain again if it meant avoiding all of this.
A short knock comes at his door, and Denki drags himself out of bed to go see what the world wants with him now.
Aizawa stands in the hall, hands in his pockets and neutral expression on his face.
“Is Bakugou okay?!” Denki blurts, hands tight around the doorframe and staring at his teacher in concern.
“Bakugou’s fine. It took him a little bit to realize where he was and what had happened after he woke up, but he wasn’t injured by the shock.”
“Thank god,” Denki breathes out, sagging in place.
“He doesn’t seem too angry, either,” Aizawa adds. “The initial surprise of losing his quirk probably made his reaction much worse, but he just nodded when I told him he doesn’t have his explosions for now.”
Just a nod…? A quiet Bakugou isn’t much better than a loud one. Based on Denki’s experience, it’s usually worse.
Aizawa watches him silently, unnerving with his tired grey eyes. “You should go see him.”
“Wha—me? No, no way. Sensei, Bakugou doesn’t scare me, but I don’t think he wants anything but to kill me right now.”
“Don’t waste my time, Kaminari. He said he wants to talk to you, so it’ll only make him upset if you make him wait.”
Denki thinks about that advice and considers it wise, so he thanks Aizawa and heads down to the infirmary. Gathering his courage, he knocks on the door.
“Come in,” Bakugou says, sounding tired and annoyed. Denki steps inside to see Bakugou laid up in the hospital bed, scowl on his face as he looks at his hands.
“Hey, dude,” Denki starts, willing the shake in his voice to go away. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Head aches a little, but that’s all.”
“Good, uh, I’m glad.”
Bakugou looks at him, not angry, but discerning. It makes Denki feel exposed.
“Quit it with that face, will you? This isn’t your fault.”
Denki blinks at him. What face was he making? “But you were out there ‘cause of me, and if Midoriya was right about the villain, I’m the one who let them get too close to you.”
“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response. It’s better you go back to being stupid instead of wallowing.”
“I’m not wallowing, Bakugou, I was scared!” he retorts, voice suddenly rising.
“The fuck do you have to be scared for? You think I can’t handle a lightning quirk?”
“Maybe because I care about you? Believe it or not, you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“...Let’s just figure out this quirk bullshit.”
“You—”
“Our quirks work pretty much the same, except I need my sweat to ignite bigger explosions, and you need to draw on more current, yeah?” Denki nods.
“Thing is, you don’t sweat nitro, so you can’t make explosions like mine.”
“That’s okay, isn’t it? We aren’t planning to use each other’s quirks.”
“Aren’t we?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know how long we’ll be stuck like this. We can’t be defenseless.”
Denki slumps in acceptance. Neither of them would be willing to suspend themselves from patrols when they’re healthy. The best option is learning how to fight with each other’s powers until they reverse this.
“Wait…” Denki says sheepishly. “I haven’t actually tried to see if I can sweat nitroglycerin. It’s part of your quirk, so I should, right?”
“You’re telling me you spent the last however many hours I was out just sitting around? Not trying to figure out my quirk?”
“Sorry if I wasn’t really feeling up to making my hands explode when I wasn’t sure if you got hurt or not.”
“Whatever, asshole. Just try to do it now.”
“What, in here? What if I blow up the room?”
“Trust me, you’re not gonna be able to make an explosion that big right away. You better not try, either. That recoil fucks with your arms.”
Denki purses his lips, choosing to see that as a statement of concern rather than lack of faith, and holds his hands up facing the ceiling. He stares at them, and they seem dry as ever.
“Is there… anything you do to summon the nitro?”
“Sometimes making fists works, just to increase the heat, but otherwise it happens naturally when I just think about it. It’s also easier when I’m exercising. Wouldn’t be surprised if you’re dehydrated though.”
“I’m not dehydrated,” Denki scowls, rubbing his hands together quickly to see if the friction will make anything pool up.
After a few minutes, the slightest hint of dampness coats his palms, and he shoves them in Bakugou’s face urgently. “Is this it?!”
Bakugou grabs his wrist and pulls his hand up to his nose, sniffing lightly. Definitely not what Denki was expecting him to do, but he guesses nitro does have a pretty distinct scent.
“Yeah,” Bakugou nods. “That’s it. Ignite it.”
Denki channels energy to his palms the same way he does to produce a bolt of electricity, knowing it had worked when they first realized they were switched. The explosion is stronger this time, and sweet smelling smoke drifts up from his skin when the light fades.
“Woah, does it usually smell like that?”
“When it’s concentrated, yeah. I try to dilute mine and just produce more if I have the opportunity, but it’s usually like this if I’m going fast.”
“Kinda like Ashido, then.”
Bakugou shrugs. “I guess.”
“Okay, so… I’ll practice that and we can figure out how to make yours work. It’s weird that the electricity knocked you out though, that’s never even happened to me.”
“Great.” Bakugou huffs, shifting in the uncomfortable looking hospital bed.
“Uh, how about after you get out of here, we can meet up again and work on it? I think you should rest more if you have a headache.”
Bakugou looks like he wants to protest, but sighs instead. “Fine. The old lady said I can leave after she checks my vitals again. Come to my room after dinner.”
“Cool!” Denki responds, giving double thumbs up in an attempt to lighten things up. Bakugou just swats at him and closes his eyes, tilting his head toward the wall.
✼
A couple of hours later, Denki makes his way up to the fourth floor and happily walks into the room when Bakugou lets him in. He’s in a tank top and sweats, clearly having just finished a light workout by the sweat shining on his skin and slightly rapid breathing.
A realization comes to him.
“Oh. Oh, shit.” Denki sits down on Bakugou’s bed. “It’s ‘cause of your sweat. Wet skin, y’know, it makes electric shocks way worse. Even though you don’t have the nitro right now, your body still sweats buckets.”
“I’m aware, dipshit. You think I don’t know not to use a hairdryer near a bathtub? But like, this is your quirk. Isn’t there some biologically built in part that protects you? Like, I’m immune to burns from most of my explosions. I just get recoil.”
Denki raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen your hands, Bakugou. I know those burns are from your quirk.”
“When I was learning how to use it.” Bakugou scowls at him, reflexively flexing his hands as he speaks. “I can control them better now, and my skin is stronger. Problem solved. Shouldn’t it be the same for you?”
“It is,” Denki nods. “My electrification only hurts me when I go over my wattage limit, but you know that already. Other than some nerve damage in my hands, I’m fine. But you don’t have that resistance yet.” He thinks for a moment, then laughs to himself and speaks quietly. “Actually, that low resistance, because of the sweat, is why the shocks are worse. Causes a higher current, y’know, Ohm’s law and stuff.”
Bakugou stares at his with brows furrowed. “You know that shit?”
For some reason, the derisive tone makes fire rise within him, but Denki is unsure if it’s his emotions or the unfamiliar heat of explosions building up. “What, the physics behind my quirk? Of course I do. If I didn’t know how my quirk worked, I would seriously hurt other people and myself. My quirk can kill people if I screw up, Bakugou.” He bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his lap. “I’m not that dumb about everything.”
“That’s—that isn’t what I meant, Kaminari.” He sounds subdued, conflicted maybe. Denki’s about to respond, deflect from the topic so he doesn’t have to think about his insecurities, but Bakugou does the job for him. “Wait. You said nerve damage?”
“Yeah, I can’t really feel anything with the tips of my fingers. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big—Kaminari. You need your fuckin’ hands. What happens if you lose feeling completely?” Bakugou’s staring at him incredulously, but Denki doesn’t feel that worried.
“That won’t happen! I’ve been like this since I was way younger, when my control was shit. I told you I only have to watch my wattage—oh my god what are you doing?!”
Denki tenses up when Bakugou grabs his hand, prodding at his fingertips with an aggravated look on his face. “You can’t feel that?” Denki mutely shakes his head, resisting the urge to yank to hands away while Bakugou gently feels his fingers. Like he said, the tips are pretty much numb, but he can feel the feather light touch stroking down the rest of his skin.
“Anyways,” he says, cheeks warm and slowly pulling his hand out of Bakugou’s grip and curling it into the bedspread. “You need to sweat less.”
Bakugou looks unphased, pulling his hands back into his own lap. “This is literally just how my body is, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Moisture-wicking gloves? Then the electricity shouldn’t travel up your arms like it did before, it’ll just stay in your hands and wherever else you direct it.”
“So we have to go to that crazy support girl?”
✼
“Wow, your quirks got swapped?! So you need new equipment, huh? I have so many babies that can help you with this! These gauntlets—”
“No. Just give me some gloves that absorb all the sweat on my palms so I don’t fry my brain.” Bakugou slams his support gear request form on the table in front of Hatsume, then walks out of Power Loader’s workshop.
Denki laughs awkwardly as he watches Bakugou’s retreating back. “Uh, yeah, if you could get that to him today, that’d be awesome.” It’s the next morning now, Bakugou eventually having kicked Denki out of his room the evening before when he decided he was too tired to deal with any more of this shit.
“That won’t even take a few hours,” Hatsume pouts, dejected at not being able to work on something more complicated. “Are you sure you don’t want this?” She lifts up a giant piece of chest gear from behind her bench, laden with instruments and moving parts that Denki can’t even identify.
“That’s okay, Hatsume, thanks though!” He backs away hastily, not wanting to be caught up in yet another advertising scheme.
Bakugou is surprisingly waiting for him outside, leaning against the wall with hands shoved in his pockets.
“My gauntlets are in my locker,” he says, starting to walk in the direction of the 2-A classroom.
“You want me to try them during practical training today?”
“You might as well. Even if you can’t make a big explosion, it’ll lessen the recoil in case something happens.”
Denki nods. “Alright. Guess we’re doing this.”
By the time their afternoon classes come to an end and they head out to the practice fields in their gym uniforms, Bakugou is tugging on new sleek black gloves and flexing his hands.
“How do they feel?” Denki asks as he walks up. He holds his point-and-shooter in one hand, his visor and headset in the other, though he’s unsure if Bakugou will want those parts.
“They’re good. Comfy, and I’m pretty sure they’re already working.” He grimaces. “I feel like my skin is cracking, though.”
Denki laughs. “Dude, I’m pretty sure my hands have gotten softer since yesterday. You sure got lucky in the genetics department.” He holds a hand up to examine it, then rubs it against Bakugou’s exposed arm. “See, feel it!”
Bakugou twists away from Denki. “Hands to yourself, Sparky.” He grabs the gadgets from Denki’s grasp and starts putting them on.
“Actually, aren’t you Sparky right now? You should call me Blasty!”
“Like hell.”
“You’ll come around to it, eventually.”
“I’ll have my quirk back, eventually.”
“Guys!” calls an energetic voice, and Kirishima bounds up and hooks an arm across both their shoulders. “You ready for training? It’s gonna be so weird watching you use each other’s quirks. Just don’t pass out again, alright, Bakugou?”
“I’m pretty damn sure I can beat you with Kaminari’s quirk, Shitty Hair. You’ve seen him take out more than one villain at a time; handling just one with his power will be easy.”
That… did Bakugou just compliment him? Compliment his quirk, which gets him into trouble more often than not? Huh.
“If only we were fighting each other, buddy. Hope you fry that dummy to a crisp, though!” Kirishima claps them both on their back, shooting a wink over his shoulder as he jogs away to Midoriya’s side.
Denki hefts up one of the grenade gauntlets, grimacing at their weight and the bulky size of it. “Can’t believe you wear this in fights. Help me lock it on?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes and attaches the bracers to Denki’s arms, then slides the gauntlets on and snaps them into place. “Feel alright?”
“They’re kinda… awkward. Have you ever considered getting the support department to make you smaller ones?”
“Have you ever considered minding your own business?”
“Woah, dude, I’m just saying it might help. You’d probably fly more easily, and it’d hurt your arms less.”
Bakugou shrugs. “My equipment is fine. The bigger they are, the more sweat they can store up.” Aizawa begins to speak before Denki can respond.
“Quirk control,” Aizawa drones, “is the focus of today’s training. You’re facing practice dummies so that you can go all out, but keep in mind that we’re only testing your upper limits so you can avoid them. Heroes don’t kill people.” A hush falls over the crowd of students, focusing on the teacher’s serious words. “Your primary goal is always to disable your enemy in the safest way possible. Watch over yourself and your classmates during this.”
Denki glances at Bakugou’s profile, the determination that settles over his features. It makes Denki try to muster up some semblance of self confidence to match, to show his friend that he can handle this challenge he’s been given.
“As some of you may be wondering, fighting dummies won’t do anything for defense type quirks. Uraraka, you agree you wouldn’t be able to do much in training like this?”
She nods emphatically. “Zero gravity isn’t going to help me fight a static target!”
“Alright. Those of you with defensive type quirks, come with me. You’ll be strengthening your abilities in a battle of all of you against me, Ectoplasm, and Midnight.” The mentioned heroes step out of seemingly nowhere, approaching from further down the field. “Your goal is to land as many hits as you can. I won’t be erasing your quirks. Understood?”
A portion of the group shouts their assent. Asui, Uraraka, Kirishima, Kouda, Sero, Hagakure, and Mineta split off to stand behind Aizawa, who looks back at the remaining students.
“Line up in front of each of the dummies. There are four, as you can see, so divide yourself accordingly. I’m trusting you to arrange yourselves this time. Kaminari, Bakugou, don’t do anything stupid.” Aizawa finishes his instructions, and each group begins their training.
Bakugou immediately walks toward the first dummy, glaring at Denki when he tries to follow. “You don’t need to supervise me. Go blast some shit over there,” he says, pointing at the dummy on the far end. This time, Denki chooses not to argue. He watches as Jirou and Iida join Bakugou, while Todoroki, Midoriya, and Ashido join himself. The remaining seven choose between the other two dummies, and soon enough the field is cacophonous with the sounds of fighting.
Todoroki steps up to their dummy first, silently raising his left hand to it and igniting a small smolder that grows into a giant burst of flame. Honestly, Denki wasn’t expecting him to go for his fire right away, but props to him for getting more comfortable fighting with that side.
The dummy is charred to a crisp in seconds, bits of ash falling to the ground. “Hey, what the hell are we supposed to… do…”
Denki trails off as the fibers seem to reverse in time, weaving themselves back together as flawlessly as they originally were. He gapes at the fully intact figure, only certain he hasn’t hallucinated the whole thing by the charred bits that remain on the ground.
“Oh. It’s self-regenerating,” Todoroki observes.
“Yes!” Yaoyorozu exclaims from the next dummy over. “Hatsume-san and I spent a while engineering the correct parts and materials needed to make equipment like this. The fibers regain their resilience every time they reform, making it an excellent tool for enduring intensive attacks like Todoroki-san’s!”
“That’s amazing, Yaoyorozu-san!” Midoriya says. “After training, will you tell me about the materials you used?”
“I’d be happy to!”
Kaminari steps up next, rolling his shoulders and focusing on the power in his hands. He’s grateful that the day is hot, because he can already feel the sweat pooling inside his gloves and coming to the surface.
He stands his ground about a foot from the dummy, legs shoulder width apart, arms held out parallel to the ground in front of him. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and reopens them with a glare fixed on his target. Maybe if he channels anger like Bakugou, the explosions will be even stronger.
He exhales. Heat gathers in his palms, and his eyes widen at the yellow glow that surrounds them. The smallest of sparks crackle, and then a loud explosion overtakes his vision. The recoil in his shoulders makes him grit his teeth in pain, but he can’t help but laugh breathlessly when the smoke clears and he realizes he’s blown a hole straight through the dummy.
“Holy shit! I did it!” he crows, hearing Ashido and Midoriya clap and cheer for him.
“Adapting to Kacchan’s quirk so quickly is unbelievable! That was really cool, Kaminari-kun!”
Denki’s ears are ringing slightly while he walks to the back of the line behind Midoriya, for Ashido to take her turn. “Thanks, man. That was super satisfying. I get why he has that grin on his face whenever he fights, now.”
Midoriya nods, smiling at him. “His power is incredible. I’m glad he trusts you with it.”
“Trusts me? I mean, I hope so, but it isn’t like he had a choice about who got his quirk.”
“No, but there a lot of people he would have hovered over if they had his quirk, to make sure they didn’t do something like blow him up with it. He knew you’d figure out how to use it pretty quickly, though.”
“I… our quirks are just similar, I do the same thing to make explosions as I do to make electricity, minus the sweat. You shouldn’t give me too much credit, Midoriya.”
He shrugs, a knowing look in his eyes that unsettles Denki. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“Bakugou-kun! What are you doing?!” Iida’s frantic voice comes from a few rows down, and all their heads snap in that direction. A giant burst of light fills the air, the sound of electric zaps loud and clear as Bakugou releases tons of energy at the dummy.
Denki spots a pointer disc embedded in the dummy, and is glad Bakugou as least has the sense to use the aiming equipment instead of just firing off and potentially hurting others. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised by it, considering Bakugou is a lot more conscious about the safety of others than he’s given credit for, but Denki can’t help but be nervous. He leaves his line, running to the other side in hopes he can get his friend to calm down.
“Bakugou! You have to stop!” Denki stares helplessly as he continues to channel electricity toward the disc lodged in the dummy’s throat. Sure, Bakugou’s controlling the power surprisingly well, but the longer he goes on, the more power he uses up, and the closer to the watt limit he gets. Denki realizes with dread that Bakugou’s limit will be much lower than his own, without having years of practice with it.
“I can handle it!” Bakugou shouts back, grinning as the outsides of the dummy start to break apart.
“Bakugou!” Iida and Jirou shout with Denki, and the other teams look over in concern too. They wouldn’t have expected him to try to go overboard working with a new quirk, but he’s so determined to make this work that he’s forgotten about every way Denki’s quirk can fuck him up.
“Okay, christ,” Denki mutters, sprinting up to Bakugou and bracing himself for the direct shock he’s about to experience. He grabs Bakugou’s wrists, grunting when the power jolts him, but it immediately starts to weaken. Bakugou looks shocked at having Denki right there in front of him, but he’s aware enough to stop firing. He slumps in Denki’s hold, and his heart lurches at the idea of Bakugou fainting again.
“Hnnnnn,” he groans, tugging out of Denki’s grip, though Denki keeps a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“Bakugou? You good?”
“Wheeeeey,” he says, unfocused eyes squinting and mouth twitching up at the corners.
“Oh my god,” Denki whispers.
“Oh my god!” Jirou yells, clapping a hand over her mouth. Muffled, she tries to speak, “He—he pulled a Kaminari! He’s Wheeeeey-kugou!” She keeps snorting while she giggles, crouching on the ground to try to steady her breathing.
“Alright, okay, this is fine, Iida, can you tell Aizawa that I’m taking Bakugou back to his room because he went too far?”
“Of course, but will he be okay?”
“Don’t worry about it, you know this happens to me all the time. His tolerance is lower than mine, so it’ll take a bit longer, but he’ll be back to normal soon!”
With that, Kaminari hooks his arm over Bakugou’s shoulders to guide him, turning him away from the crowd of students so no one else sees him all vulnerable and loopy. The walk back to the dorms is filled with more babbling than expected, but Kaminari listens to him the whole way back because it’s honestly the least he can do.
✼
Bakugou ends up napping in Denki’s bed for a little bit. He really had intended on taking Bakugou to his own room, but he didn’t want to search his pockets for the keys, so they ended up here. Denki tries to do his English reading while he waits, justifying not immediately returning to training by reminding himself Bakugou should be back to himself within a few more minutes.
He keeps getting distracted from his work by Bakugou. His face twitches every so often in his sleep, and he seems like he’s trying to mumble things but Denki can’t properly hear him. It’s weird for Denki to think it, but Bakugou really does look soft when he’s sleeping. He couldn’t really focus on it the first time, considering the whole electric shock and fainting combination, but this situation isn’t as dire.
Against his better judgement, Denki reaches out to brush back a tuft of Bakugou’s spiky hair that falls against his forehead, and he holds his breath when his friend stirs.
“Mmm, Kaminari? What are you doing here?”
“You overdid it on the wattage and went kinda funky in the head. I didn’t wanna leave after you fell asleep just in case it was worse than it seemed.”
“I’m fine.”
Denki nods. “I figured. It never hurts when it happens to me, I’m just not all there for a while.”
“Yeah. You warned me.” Neither of them speak for a few moments.
“I was being stupid. You told me what happens when you use your quirk wrong, and I didn’t listen and got myself screwed up. Sorry.”
Denki’s eyes are wide. “You don’t need to… apologize to me, dude. It’s not like using a new quirk after having yours for thirteen years is easy.”
“I saw you during that exercise. You did it almost perfectly, somehow. How am I supposed to feel after seein’ that, when I’ve been working on controlling my explosions for so long?”
“To be fair, Bakugou, my quirk needs a lot more self restraint and control than yours does. You can afford to have a large blast radius, but electricity moves. I have to aim exactly where I want it all the time, unless all my enemies are in one place.”
“So it wasn’t hard for you to focus the explosion at the dummy?”
“Not really, no,” Denki says honestly.
Bakugou nods. “...Thanks.”
“What for?”
“Looking after me this whole time. Not letting me hurt myself. It’s a lot more guidance than I ever got with my own quirk when I was a kid.”
“Really…?”
“Somehow, a four year old with a powerful quirk makes adults think about how much stronger it can be, instead of how dangerous.”
“Bakugou, I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever.” He shakes his head. “I’m careful with my own power now, ‘cause I can’t be a hero if I’m not. I just forgot about the habits I built up when I used yours, I guess.”
“Did it feel anything like your explosions?”
“The electricity feels a lot sharper. Like, when it runs inside me, it’s like it strikes against something every inch and gets stronger on the way to my hands. My explosions feel more like a constant heat in my chest and arms.”
“That makes sense,” Denki replies, shifting on the bed to face Bakugou better. “Using your quirk felt a lot hotter and more constant, instead of jumpy, if that makes sense.”
“Yeah.”
He chews on his lip. “Do you… want to go back to training?”
“Let’s just chill for a bit.”
“M’kay,” Denki says, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Um, do you wanna play Mario Kart or something?”
“Hell yes.”
✼
It takes another week for them to get their own quirks back, and in that time, Kaminari and Bakugou spend most of each day together. If they aren’t training together, they’re eating together. They spend their free time playing games or watching TV, or they just stay in one of their rooms and do homework.
They get a lot stronger, actually, and both of them learn more about their quirks by watching each other use them. Nothing’s better than getting their own powers back, though. It’s in the middle of training that Denki knocks himself on his ass when electricity crackles from his sweat-soaked hands, and the boom of an explosion comes from a source other than himself.
He whips his head up to where Bakugou stands, staring at his hands in wonder as if he’s just manifested his quirk for the first time. They each fire off some more shots, just to make sure they aren’t seeing things. No, they definitely have their powers back. Slowly, their heads turn to look at each each, silent until smiles grow on their faces and they race back to the dorms to drag their friends outside, shouting the whole way.
For a good while, Denki runs around shooting sparks in the air just because he can, and he later takes comfort in being able to be able to stick one end of his charger in his mouth and power up his phone. A whole nine days of having to use a normal wall charger was a lot more inconvenient than he’d expected.
Bakugou looks at ease too, his grin coming wider and even more genuinely than it used to when he chases Kirishima and Midoriya down with giant bursts from his hands propelling him in flight. Eventually, Midoriya hoists Kirishima into a piggyback carry so that he doesn’t rush ahead with his hops, and it’s a real sight to see green sparks of light speeding away with a hollering red blur in tow, taunting the flying explosive behind them.
Mid-chase, Bakugou’s head turns to search something out in the crowd of students lounging in the grass, and his gaze locks on Denki. The bursts of light in his palms grow brighter and louder for a quick second, but the sharp smirk Bakugou aims at him is more electrifying than any spark from either of their quirks. The charger falls from between Denki’s lips as he stares after Bakugou speeding away, misaligned pieces of their relationship finally starting to slot into place in his mind.
✼