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So this is how I die. A fuckton of salt water. How pathetic.
Bakugou's mind was rather calm as he considered his own death. Physically he was flailing around like hell and maybe screaming a little, but mentally he was cool as a cucumber. He honestly thought he'd be murdered or something from all the people he pissed off, but he never thought it'd be the fucking ocean to do him in.
Ashido was gonna feel so guilty she forced him to come. He originally wanted to go to the movies, because they just released a new action movie--"More action! More violence!"--but she insisted they "go outside and do something for once". She reminded him that he hadn't left his apartment all weekend, and he reminded her that she wasn't his mom. Nevertheless, he found himself at the beach a few hours later, and now he was about to die.
This will show her not to force people to go places, he thought, slightly bitterly. He was never going to get to see that action movie. He had leftover curry for dinner that night, and now it was going to go bad. It was odd the things he chose to prioritize when he was seconds from going unconscious. He hadn't talked to his parents since he got his own apartment, and he didn't have friends. Just Ashido, his annoying-as-fuck neighbor who stopped by his apartment every so often to force him to "go out and do something". He supposed they were friends at this point, but he was never going to tell her. Now he really would never tell her.
Bakugou was almost surprised he was still conscious. How long did those lectures at school say it took for someone to drown? He thought it was 4 minutes, but it felt like a lot longer had passed. His arms were getting tired, and his shouts were getting quieter, salt water taking over his lungs. Ah, here it comes. Well, living was nice while it lasted. He closed his eyes and prepared to let the water take him over.
He was preparing, that is, until he felt strong hand around his waist, lifting him out of the water.
"Don't worry, man. I've got you!" he heard someone shout, way too close to his ear. Suddenly able to breath, he started coughing like a chain smoker, feeling like he was going to bruise a lung. He opened his eyes, vision blurred with salt water. Feeling one of those foam floating things pushed into his hands, he gripped it like a fucking baby. After blinking a few times, his vision cleared enough that he could see his savior. He was about his age, with hair too red to be natural and teeth sharper than Bakugou ever thought possible. Rather demon-like, in his opinion. It took him a few seconds to realize the guy was saying something.
"-you hear me?" he was asking. Bakugou nodded, suddenly embarrassed. He didn't want to be rescued like a fucking child. He was gonna make it back to shore himself. He tried shoving the guy away weakly, still holding the floaty, but the man only laughed.
"You literally just almost drowned. No way you're going back yourself." Bakugou glared as hard as he could while coughing his lungs out, but the guy only smiled at him. "You know, you're my first rescue," he continued, pulling Bakugou to shore with him. "I also worked here last summer, but nobody drowned on my watch."
Bakugou finally cleared his throat enough to rasp, "I wasn't drowning." The guy actually laughed at this, showing Bakugou rows of shark-like teeth. "Like hell you weren't. You were struggling around and stuff like crazy. Did you never learn to swim or something?"
Bakugou's face flamed again, and he wished he was in any situation than the one he was in. He didn't even have the strength to yell at the guy. Instead, he buried his face in the red foam, not gracing the question with a response. His mom never found it necessary to teach him how to swim, and he never felt it was necessary when he grew up. Not to mention that there weren't any swim classes for people over the age of ten. He always stayed in the shallow, or didn't go in the water at all. Today, however, the tide was stronger than usual, and he found himself being pulled further and further. One monster wave later, and he found himself unable to breath.
When he peeked an eye up, the redhead looked remorseful. "Crap. I'm probably not supposed to antagonize you. Sorry 'bout that. Waves were crazy today anyways, even for strong swimmers." Bakugou put his head back down, not in the mood for pity. The guy wasn't done talking, though.
"I'm Kirishima by the way. What's your name?"
Bakugou lifted his head just enough to whisper, "None of your fucking business." He felt drained from the whole ordeal, and this guy was getting on his drowned nerves. Normally that would shut the person up, but Kirishima just smirked.
"I'll ask again when you're able to stand by yourself." He stopped talking then, which Bakugou was relieved about. Soon they reached the shore, and Bakugou dropped the floaty like it was on fire, only to find his legs shaking. Kirishima caught his arm before he made a dumbass of himself for the second time that day. Rather than thank him, Bakugou huffed in his direction, removing the hand. Kirishima grinned, shrugging.
"You sure you're able to walk?" he asked, biting back a laugh. Bakugou gave him his strongest death glare, the one that never failed to get people off his ass.
"Drop dead." The redhead seemed unfazed by it, dropping his arm to his side.
"If you say so, dude. Try not to die again." Bakugou just shook his head, making his way to the sand as fast as his wobbly legs would take him. He didn't make it far before he felt a new pair of arms wrapped around him.
"Goddamnit, Bakugou! You gave me a fucking heart attack. When I told you to go die this morning I didn't mean literally!" Bakugou stiffened, taking Ashido's arms off him.
"Get off. I wasn't gonna die. Chill out, Ashido, I'm fucking fine." She looked unconvinced, but she stepped back, remembering his personal space rule. And if the situation couldn't get any worse, he heard an awfully familiar voice behind him.
"So how's my favorite damsel in distress?"
Bakugou glared at the redhead. "Don't call me that. I'm not a fucking damsel. And if I wanted to learn how to swim, I would. It's useless. Like your hair."
The redhead ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, pouting. "Don't make me regret rescuing you!" He looked past Bakugou at Ashido, sticking out a hand.
"I'm Kirishima." His hand was left hanging as Ashido ran at him, hugging him tightly. It ended as quickly as it started, and Kirishima was left standing rather surprised as Ashido began blabbering.
"Thanks for saving this asshole! You probably wouldn't if you actually knew him," at this Bakugou flicked her, "but I'm grateful anyways. I'm Ashido, his..."
Kirishima intervened at this. "Girlfriend?" he guessed. Ashido couldn't stop laughing at this.
"I was debating whether Bakugou would kill me for saying we're friends. We're neighbors. He's actually gay as shit." Bakugou completely turned away at this, face completely red, preparing to go back to the towel and get the fuck out of there. Ashido grabbed his arm before he could move. She was surprisingly strong, and Bakugou knew all too well that he was in no condition to fight.
Ashido apparently wasn't done being embarrassing. looked Kirishima over for a minute. "You wouldn't happen to be straight, would you?"
Kirishima laughed, scratching the back of his neck. "Nah, I'm also gay as shit. Flattered, though." He stood for a minute, grinning all embarrassed, before saying, "Well, I gotta go back to lifeguarding. Never know who else might be drowning. Nice meeting you Ashido." He paused for a moment before saying, "You too, Bakugou." Bakugou grumbled at this, looking down at his feet. Ashido waved. Then the redhead was gone, jogging back to his lifeguard chair across the beach.
Bakugou sat on the towel, crossing his arms. "Fucking finally," he mumbled, getting a ginger ale out of the cooler and downing the whole thing. "Fucking shitty hair getting on my nerves." Ashido raised an eyebrow at him, her smile more mischievous than Bakugou liked. "What."
She shrugged, although the smile remained. Bakugou stared until she relented, looking upwards.
"I don't know..." she started. "You seemed to tolerate him a lot more than you tolerate most people."
Bakugou scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "Like hell I did. That guy gets on my fucking nerves. Did you see how pretentiously he rescued me? What a jackass." His face was turning red again. From anger, he thought. I'm fucking pissed. Ashido didn't look convinced.
"I don't know," she repeated. "Your face was super red the whole time. And you actually talked to him! It took you an entire week to finally talk to me, and all you said was fuck off. Seems like love to me."
Bakugou threw a seashell at her. "Shut the fuck up. I just met this guy and already I never want to see him again. We're never going to the beach again." She shrugged at this, and thankfully didn't bring the redhead up again. When he got home, he grabbed his bag and slammed his front door behind him without giving her a second glance. She was used to his attitude and didn't say anything about it, which was itself a blessing. He definitely wasn't in the mood for socializing, especially since she would probably mention Kirishima. And his brain was bothering him enough about it without her help.
That redhead was pretty hot, huh, his brain supplied rather unhelpfully. He covered his head with a pillow, groaning. This was not the time for a middle school-esque crush. He hadn't dated since high school, and he didn't feel like starting again. Too much talking, too much work, and people were annoying. Didn't stop his brain from going off every time he saw a hot guy, though. Lucky for him, he would never see this guy again, so he didn't have to worry.
That's what he thought, at least, before he was dragged to the beach the next day. He was really questioning Ashido's logic when she knocked on his door in the morning, but she promised to buy him every Fast and Furious movie in the franchise--action movies were his guilty pleasure, evidently--so he reluctantly agreed. He didn't realize why she was so insistent.
He should've realized why she was so insistent.
He should've been suspicious when she kept passing by perfectly good sitting spots, seeming to be looking for something. He should've questioned her logic when she kept following the red flags leading to the life guard chair. He definitely should've said something when she put her spot right next to it. But it wasn't until he heard that goddamn voice that he made the connection.
"Oh fuck no," he hissed, glaring daggers at her.
"You'll thank me when you guys are married," she whispered back, putting her shoes down and making her way to the water. Bakugou tried to call her back, but it was too late.
"Is that who I think it is?" Kirishima asked, squinting at him with his god awful smile. Bakugou pushed his hat further over his eyes, grateful for once that he was pale enough to need one in addition to sunscreen.
"Nope," he answered. He was hoping this would be the end of their interaction and he could go back to plotting Ashido's demise. Instead, he felt the hat being pulled from his head. He stared, completely shocked, as Kirishima put it on his own head. He was completely silent for an entire minute, not knowing how to respond at all, while Kirishima stood over him with a shit eating grin.
Finally, he managed to say, "At least it covers your shitty hair." Kirishima gasped, taking the hat off but not giving it back.
"I'll have you know my hair is a delight," he said, sticking his nose in the air. He started climbing his chair thing, holding the hat in his teeth. He sat at the top and held the hat in his hands. "You know, I don't even want to give this back," he shouted.
"It's my fucking property," Bakugou yelled back. Kirishima shrugged at this, refusing to let go of the hat.
"Dunno, man. You've been nothing but mean to me and my hair the whole time I've known you. Kinda hurts, to be honest. Maybe I'll just keep this forever."
Bakugou sighed as loudly as he could. "What do I have to do to get you to give me my fucking hat?" he asked resignedly.
Kirishima grinned. "Say my hair is beautiful. The best hair ever. No other hair compares to it."
Bakugou scoffed. "No way. You can keep the hat, for all I care." Kirishima shrugged, putting it on backwards.
"What a quality hat. I sure do love this hat. Might be the best hat I own. Where did you get this hat? I want to get one in red. I like red. It's my favorite color. What's your favorite color? You seem like one of those people whose favorite color is black. Hopefully you have more personality than that. Black isn't actually a color, you know."
Bakugou finally snapped. "If I compliment your shitty hair, will you stop yammering?" Kirishima paused, nodding enthusiastically. Bakugou took a deep breath. "Your hair is fucking beautiful, okay? Now give me my fucking hat." Kirishima dropped it down on him and he caught it, shoving it in his bag. No way he was going to be blackmailed like that again. It only kept Kirishima quiet for a minute, though.
"So what is your favorite color?" he asked, legs swinging from his place ten feet up. Bakugou considered not answering again, but he didn't think he had it in him to out-stubborn him.
"Orange, alright? It's orange," he called up, not mentioning that black was a close second. Colors were obviously something this guy could go on and on about, and Bakugou was hoping to end the conversation there. No such luck.
"Orange is a good color. Pretty close to red, which I already mentioned was my favorite color. Now it's your turn." When Bakugou looked confused, he clarified, "To ask a question. I asked you one, so now you can ask me one."
Bakugou sniffed, turning to his phone, fully preparing to not say a word. But after a minute of silence that was less comfortable than he thought it would be, he asked, "Why are your teeth so fucking pointy?"
Kirishima was visibly pleased that Bakugou listened to him, and chuckled. "I went through a goth phase in high school. My hair was black then, and I only wore black and moped and stuff. So like every emo was doing, I filed my teeth to points. Nobody ever told me it's not reversible, though. Gave my mom a heart attack."
Bakugou couldn't help but snicker as he thought of how ridiculous Kirishima probably looked as a goth. He couldn't imagine him wearing anything but red, and he looked like he was never too far from smiling. Moping would be a weird look on him, he decided.
"My turn!" Kirishima shouted gleefully. He considered it for a second before asking, "Do you really think my hair is shitty?" Bakugou thought he was joking, but when he looked up he was surprised to find Kirishima's expression completely serious. He almost looked... hurt? It was weird to see him anything but completely confident, and Bakugou felt slightly bad. This guy did save his life, after all. He decided to cut him some slack.
"It suits you," he decided was a safe answer. It was apparently the right answer, because Kirishima's face lit up instantly.
"Aw, thanks man," he shouted, beaming. "I like your hair too. It looks like a dandelion puff." Bakugou put his hands to his hair, covering it. He knew it stuck out, but no one ever said it looked like a fucking dandelion puff. Just another reason not to talk to this guy. But he seemed to be earnest, and he didn't have a bad bone in his body, so Bakugou decided not to call him out on it. This time.
"Why'd you decide to be a life guard?" he asked, changing the subject quickly from his hair. Kirishima was all too eager to talk about himself again.
"Needed the money. Besides, I've always been a pretty good swimmer," he said, flexing. Bakugou rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. "Took the courses I had to, and they hired me here. Thought there was going to be more saving people, but it's mostly yelling at people to go shallower or not to run. Giant bummer. A pretty boring way to spend the summer, honestly." He smiled coquettishly. "You being here helps, though."
Bakugou ducked his head, feeling a flush coming on. He didn't know if Kirishima would be able to see it from all the way up there, but he didn't feel like finding out.
"Yeah, whatever. Don't get used to it. Summer's almost over anyways." Kirishima pouted, then squinted, looking in the distance.
"Goddamn it, this is the third time I have to yell at this kid for going too deep." His face lit up with an idea, and he turned back to Bakugou. "You seem like you like shouting at people. Want to yell at this kid for me?"
Bakugou shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Kirishima lowered the whistle to him and he blew it as hard as he could, standing up. "Hey, shithead! Get to the shallow." Kirishima hopped down from his chair, covering Bakugou's mouth.
"You can't call an eleven year old a shithead!" he whispered, barely holding back a laugh. "God, I'm gonna lose my job."
Bakugou handed him his whistle back. "Probably should've expected that," he responded with a shrug. Kirishima sighed.
"Yeah, in hindsight you're probably right." He sat next to him in the sand, twirling the whistle in his fingers. He looked like he was going to say something else, but just then Ashido decided to come back, pink hair soaked completely through.
"Please don't tell me that was Bakugou screaming," she panted, stopping in front of them and dripping a little on Bakugou. He moved back a foot, scowling. Kirishima answered her with a shrug and a small smile. She smiled, noticing their proximity.
"I see you guys are close now," she said with a smirk. Bakugou flipped her off, while Kirishima turned pink, smiling a little.
"Yeah, Bakugou even called my hair beautiful," he boasted. Bakugou shoved his head, grumbling, "He stole my hat. It was a hostage situation." Ashido looked between the two of them before proclaiming, "I am officially the best match maker ever."
Thankfully, Kirishima didn't comment on this, only turning a little darker. Bakugou stood up quickly, dusting the sand off of him and grabbing his bag.
"It's getting dark. We should leave," he said with gritted teeth, giving Ashido a pointed look. She didn't get it at first, but Kirishima did. He too stood up, climbing his taller-than-necessary chair thing.
"Well it was nice seeing you guys again," he shouted down after a bit of awkward silence. Once again, Ashido waved, but this time Bakugou nodded a little in his direction. After Ashido was the worst possible person ever, he felt he needed to apologize on her behalf.
When they reached the car, he finally faced her again. "What the actual fuck was that?!" he shouted, hands in fists by his sides. Ashido didn't seem to sense his urgency, smirking at him.
"Looked like you guys were getting on pretty well," she said, wagging her eyebrows. Bakugou gaped at her.
"Yeah, I guess, until you showed up! Shit, I won't be able to face him ever again." She finally got his anger, and rolled her eyes.
"Relax. He still looks plenty into you. And don't try to deny that you like him," she said when he opened his mouth to protest. "It's the most obvious thing ever."
Bakugou sulked the car ride back, and refused to talk to her until he was right in front of his door. He turned to her, all the fight out of him.
"We're not going back to the beach tomorrow. Maybe sometime later this week, but not tomorrow." She shrugged at this, but didn't argue with him for once. He was glad that he would have more time to bury his head under every blanket he owned and regret all his life choices. He was lying when he said they would go later that week; he was perfectly content never setting foot on the beach again.
He spent the next few days going through all seven Fast and Furious movies and wallowing in self pity. At one point Ashido showed up and he wanted to kick her out, but she brought fiery habanero doritos so he let her watch with him for a while. She was surprisingly okay with him barely moving for 3 days, but by the morning of the fourth she was done with it.
"You can't avoid him forever!" she shouted, knocking harder on his door. He knew she was right, but he still dragged his feet while he got his stuff together. He didn't bother bringing a bathing suit this time, knowing he wasn't going in the water. The car ride there was charged with tense silence, and when they arrived and parked, every step on the beach felt weighed down with lead. Ashido tried to find Kirishima, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. After twenty minutes of pointless searching, Bakugou was ready to call it quits and go the fuck home, but as soon as he turned to leave he bumped right into guess who?
"Oh, hey Bakugou," Kirishima said, obviously flustered. Behind him, a yellow haired guy with a black streak in his hair was whispering rapidly with a purple haired girl with a bored expression. One look at Bakugou, however, and she looked more shocked than anything. Bakugou didn't want to know what that meant. Ok, maybe he wanted to know a little.
"Shitty hair," he said as a greeting. "Shitty hair's friends." They waved cheekily, and he turned back to Kirishima. "Not life guarding today?"
Kirishima shook his head. "It's my day off," he said, staring at his feet. "Weird that I'd want to go to my work place on my break, right?" Bakugou shrugged, not finding it that weird, before yellow haired guy spoke for the first time.
"He came here looking for you," he said, before Kirishima punched him in the shoulder. His expression was more what the fuck than anything. Finally, he looked up at Bakugou, sheepishly grinning.
"You didn't come the last few days. Didn't want to leave things off weirdly." He scratched the back of his neck, trailing off. Bakugou shook his head.
"Don't be fucking ridiculous," he muttered, staring at his feet. "It's fine."
"Really? I thought it'd be harder than this, honestly," Kirishima sighed in relief, before straightening up again. He looked like he wanted to say something again, but stayed silent.
"What is it?" Bakugou asked, slightly exasperated. Kirishima looked up at him, then back down.
"I, um, wanted to know if you want to go out sometime. On a date. With me."
Bakugou froze for a moment, not knowing what to say. On one hand, Kirishima was fucking hot, and not that annoying, and on top of it all didn't seem put off by Bakugou's temper. On the other hand, Bakugou didn't know the first thing about dating someone and would most likely screw it all up. Looking up, he took in Kirishima's expression and made his decision.
"Sounds good, shitty hair. But if you take me to seafood I swear to god I will murder you."