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These earliest hours of the morning always had a slightly unreal feeling to them. Like everything was so distant, barely brushing against this singular moment.
The only noises were the gentle rushing of far-away traffic, the soft in-and-out of breathing, the rustling fabric as Bakugou turned to face the man lying across from him.
Kirishima lay on his side, back turned to his bed partner. The swell of his shoulder rising and falling in the slats of light through the blinds draws Bakugou’s eye. He slowly pushes himself up, still watching as the other man sleeps. He's never been the slow-to-rise type, and once he's awake, there's no helping it.
His mind wanders as the world slowly catches up, his thoughts filling up the quiet space.
They hadn't put a label on this, mostly at Bakugou’s insistence. He wanted to be the best, and a relationship didn’t factor into that, as far as he was concerned. But now it was just one more thing to leave him wondering, occupying his mind.
The two of them had been close, ever since the sports festival their very first year of high school. And over their three years there together, they had only grown closer, spending time with one another until they considered each other good, maybe even best friends.
And it had only made sense to them, once their careers at UA had ended, that they would stay close. Do their sidekick work at nearby, maybe even the same, hero agencies.
But it had extended beyond that, too. Until they spent nearly every moment together, spending their days together in each other’s apartments more often than on their own.
But still, it was nothing. This, whatever it was, could last. Nothing would have to change this. If they put a word on it, made it something, that turned it into a ticking time bomb. Something with an expiration date.
Right?
As he's cursing his wandering thoughts, wishing he could think of anything else instead of dwelling in something he thought he'd already come to a conclusion on, a siren wails outside.
He turns, mind now going full tilt to assess the situation outside.
It's about 4 am, most people aren't awake yet. It's not a police siren, but it's not a tsunami warning either. The sound seems to be a few blocks away- and so does the explosion that briefly overwhelms it.
And they're in his own apartment.
His costume is practically within arm’s reach.
So is a top ten ranking.
The decision is an easy one, then.
The window opens right onto a fire escape, a rush of cold wind sending goosebumps up Bakugou’s arms not five minutes after the first siren went off.
Damn. That wasn't ideal, but it wouldn't take him long to warm up on the run over.
And a decent explosion from both hands is all it takes to launch him off the fire escape and onto the lower roof of the building next door. Bakugou lands easily on his feet, taking off at a jog to the street-facing edge of the roof.
The next blast is much bigger- still not enough to damage the building, but enough to send him straight to the end of the block.
He hits the ground much harder than the roof, but rolling off his shoulder straight up to his feet is a move he could pull in his sleep. His heart is starting to pump, his body waking up and roaring for action. A grin spreads across his face as the cold of the early morning slowly loses its grip on him.
Another explosion sends him in the air, above the roofline of some of the shorter buildings. He can see smoke billowing up, and hears shouting. Now there are police sirens, but they’re distant, just on the edge of his hearing over the rushing wind as he falls back to the ground, and the clamoring ahead.
A small blast, at minimal power, is enough to slow his descent just before he lands so he can hit the ground at an easy run. He was so close now he could practically taste it, like static in the air before a rainstorm.
What he could literally feel was the rumbling under his feet, a deep bellow pressing at his eardrums. It was a big guy then. A wild grin splits his face. Some people liked to start their morning with a brain teaser, he liked to start his with a bloodbath.
He kicks into a sprint, working up as much sweat as he can for one final blast. This one risks cracking the road beneath him, just from the heat of it, but he needs to clear this in one smooth go.
As he flies into the chilled sky, he can see his target around the corner. The form is so massive, lumbering, inhuman , that for a moment he panics, eyes widening in shock. But the figure turns, and there's no exposed brain, no monstrous face.
He clicks his tongue as he reaches the top of his arc, almost pausing in mid-air before rocketing back towards the ground. The villain hasn't noticed him yet, but heroes are nothing if not fair harbingers of justice.
Bakugou lets out his own roar, voice echoing down the street just long enough to give the asshole a moment to turn towards the sound. Perfect.
The metal sole of his shoe connects with the villain’s jaw, a vicious drop kick that sends him to the ground in an instant. Bakugou lands as well, jogging to a stop while the other skids and bounces.
Fair is fair, but villains only deserve one warning. Now Bakugou can be the unrelenting force he wants to be. He sets off another blast, skimming along the ground until he reaches the villain, swinging a hand down in a solid hook just as the other man is stumbling to his feet.
Now, bouncing back from his own explosion, Bakugou takes a minute to assess. Firstly, of course this thing isn't a Nomu, that's dipshit Deku’s responsibility now. Not his.
Secondly- his soles hit the ground, and he's lifting a foot and spinning, battle instinct as easy as breathing- this guy was one some kind of rampage. Maybe he got chased off by some civilian with a decent quirk and he's pissed. Whatever it is, he's a serious danger to the city and the people, so Bakugou has all rights to deal with it however he pleases.
And good, because his heel connects solid with the bastard’s temple, a sick crack sounding. But he barely flinches, arm coming up to bat Bakugou’s leg away.
Dammit . The villain doesn't make contact, of course, Bakugou sets off a lower-key version of his Howitzer and sets them both spinning away. This guy may not be a Nomu, but he's the type they'd turn into a Nomu.
But just as much as it is annoying to have a foe Bakugou can't floor in a few easy hits, it's also a challenge that gets his blood pumping. His grin is back- not like All Might’s, bright and reassuring, a beacon, or like Deku’s, unswayable and knowing.
Ground Zero’s smile is fearsome, downright terrifying even. He's seen the articles, some people think he's too intimidating to be a favorite hero like All Might.
But here he was, spot 14 and climbing. He only graduated a couple years ago after all.
He’ll show them.
He fires off an AP Shot- maybe too reckless, but he doesn't have teammates breathing down his neck right now- splitting it into a shower so it's not lethal. This is a test; is it an armor quirk, a transformation quirk, a muscle quirk?
The villain lifts an arm up to protect his face as the shots explode off him, sending him reeling.
Bakugou continues his relentless pace, taking off after him and leveling a nice, fat explosion from the open palm of his hand. There’s no time for the smoke to clear on top of the fact that it’s a still morning in the city, but at this proximity he can see the marks he’s left on its skin. Not an armor quirk then, he realizes with another grin. No threshold to break; a good hit should be all it takes.
But whatever this guy has, he’s been working on it. He doesn’t have the battle sense to be a hero course dropout, but he’s no two-bit thief either. As evidenced by the arm that comes swinging out of the smoke, blasting Bakugou back.
He hits the ground and tumbles, but springs to his feet without a moment’s pause. The hell? He would’ve been sure both the villain’s arms had been occupied fending off his blasts. And the force of it… he hadn’t taken a hit like that in a while. Maybe not since the last time he and Deku had a serious spar.
But he isn’t concerned. He squares his feet, neither he or the villain moving. He decides to take a minute to craft a plan. “Disturbing the peace,” he shouts, voice coming out in a harsh bark. “Destruction of private and public property, attacking one of the top heroes,” he lists, starting to pace to the side as the villain prowls forward. “You’re creating a lotta trouble for yourself, you ugly bastard! And such an inconvenient hour too, really. You know what that means?”
The villain roars and charges, and every part of Bakugou’s body lights up with energy. Now! “DIE!” he bellows, springing into the air and aiming a blast at the villain’s feet just before they collide. He can see it now, this asshole could either turn himself into an absolute goliath, or use his body mass to temporarily form rudimentary limbs.
He just needs to get in a good hit somewhere . He knocks his foot into the side of the villain’s head again, rattling his balance. As one of the villain’s real arms swung up to grab him, he blasts down, knocking the villain away and flying 10 meters up. He tucks his body up as he falls back to earth, smashing his metal knee guards into the bastard’s back before he can regain his stability.
The villain falls, smashing the road beneath both of them. Bakugou plants his hands against the back of his skull, blasting it hard enough to launch himself backwards, landing on his feet and skidding to a stop several paces away. The thing seemed down for the count at least, letting out a pained howl as he lay there.
Bakugou didn’t relax just yet, staying in his fighting posture as he slows his breathing. The smoke was hanging heavy, mostly obscuring the figure on the ground. The police sirens were getting close, and Bakugou decided he might as well do them the favor of restraining the bastard.
He strode forward, peering through the smog, not willing to let his guard down, even as the rush of a won battle swells over him. The shadow almost seems to shrink is his quirk wears off.
“Alright,” Bakugou calls towards the figure. “Just come easy now, and I don't have to kick your ass anym-” Something solid strikes him in the gut, driving the breath out of his lungs.
Whatever it is it follows through with the blow, sending him flying off his feet, down the road. He sputters and chokes, trying to regain his breath. What the hell!? So the villain hadn't been shrinking because he'd given up, but because he was transferring his mass into another limb.
Dammit. This is what he gets for trying to play good hero and not blast the bastard while he was down. He can hear the rattling of the crumbled cement as the villains stands up, readying another attack.
“Poor little hero,” he growls, body turning monstrous as it drops onto all fours. “You cocky types never make it as far as you'd like, do you? Sorry it has to end here.”
Bakugou props himself up on his elbows, squinting into the smoke, but his lungs are barely taking in air, he can't force himself back up just yet-
“Yo, Gee! Up top!”
Bakugou flops down onto his back as he shoots both hands straight up, building a massive explosion in his palms until just the right second.
Wait for it…..
Wait-
A streak of red passes over him, and he unleashes it, a blinding light flashing through the street. And from the midst of the flames-
“UNBREAKABLE CANNON BAAAALL!”
The seemingly inhuman form flies straight into the villain’s face with a sick crunch, sending it off-balance. As he teeters, the ball unfurls into a man, all jagged edges and shitty hair, landing a heavy punch against the villain’s head before finally landing.
“Sorry for you heroes tend to work in pairs,” comes Red Riot’s voice as the villain finally collapses. “Now, why don't you just rest until the officers get here, ‘kay?” He raises both jagged fists over his head, and drives them into its back, forcing a sharp wheeze from the other man.
Straightening back up, the hero turns on a heel, moving back in the direction he'd been blasted from.
Bakugou is finally working himself back up into a sitting position as a hand enters his line of view. “Seriously man, a ‘rise and shine’ wouldn't kill you.”
He's about to slap the hand away when a violent spasm runs through his forearms. He takes the hand, grunting as he's yanked back to his feet. It's impossible to hide the tremor through his muscles that time, and Kirishima sighs.
“Also, you didn't have to blast me that hard,” he gripes, angling his head this way and that as his neck cracks. “I almost busted a collarbone there!”
Bakugou scoffs, brushing himself off. “Not my fault your quirk only hardens your skin. Maybe you should work on that.”
Kirishima lets out a laugh, expression one of disbelief. “Dude, I can already barely move when I’m using Unbreakable as it is, and you want me to try and turn my bones into that? No way in hell.”
He has this grin that’s leagues brighter than the slowly rising sun, so much so that Bakugou finds it hard to look at. His eyes skip over his skin, gradually shedding its quirk, over the outrageously bright red hair that tumbles over his shoulders, and eventually settling on the villain, still out cold in the road. “When did you-”
Now it’s the other man’s turn to scoff. “You didn’t close the window,” he says, emphasizing by holding his hands up and flexing his fingers in and out. “Your take-off woke me up.”
Bakugou takes a moment to consider the spread of time between then and now, cutting his eyes back to Kirishima and giving him a dry smile. “What the hell took you so long, then?”
Kirishima lets out an offended noise, eyebrows pinching in the middle. Even the look of faux anger isn’t enough to wipe the grin off his face, and it makes Bakugou’s heart clench like it has so many times before. “Sorry I had to run back to my place to get my costume before I could save your ass!”
Bakugou lets out a short, barking laugh at that, if only to hide whatever disgustingly smitten face he knew he had to be making. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, for better or worse. His only mask was his anger, and that didn’t work on Kirishima anymore.
(And he didn’t want it to work either, didn’t want to punish Kirishima for their closeness, but he pushed that thought aside for now too.)
“Whatever, you didn’t save shit,” he says, giving his hand a casual wave. “I can take a hit without being the damsel in distress here.”
“What if I like you being the damsel in distress?” Kirishima teases, giving Bakugou a playful shove with his elbow.
Bakugou clicks his tongue, averting his eyes again as the police finally arrive on the scene, piling out of their vehicle and unloading their restraining gear without pause. “I’m sure the media would have a damn field day with that one.”
It was already bad enough, the two of them constantly swooping in to save one another. It just happened that they had a good sense of each other’s battle techniques, their weaknesses. Some weird, “we’ve-known-one-another-too-damn-long” sense for when the other was in trouble.
As much as he hated to admit it sometimes- because a hero shouldn't need to rely on anyone, especially when he's shooting for number one- they worked well together. Almost too well, for how many of their resolved incidents overlapped. But they could withstand and utilize one another's quirks as easy as breathing, communicated easily on the field in ways others struggled to make sense of them.
And without that? He'd manage, sure. But there would be times when he'd have to team up with somebody, and there's no one he could tolerate, maybe even enjoy, working with as much as he did Kirishima, Red Riot.
Kirishima laughs again, teeth flashing as his eyes crinkle at the corners. They balance each other out in every sense, and have since they were kids in school.
Fuck it, he thinks. Time to dip into that impulsive nature everyone tried to push him away from in high school.
“I won’t let you take the credit for saving me,” he says, turning to Kirishima. “But, I might owe you one for making that fight easier than it could’ve been. I get a lot of bullshit for doing too much damage in big fights, y’know.”
Kirishima’s grin wanes just slightly, pinning Bakugou down with an inquisitive smile. “Alright, I’ll take that. What do you have in mind?”
Bakugou sighs and stretches, looking over the rising sun. “How about… We give our statements, get out of our costumes,” he says, turning his gaze back to Kirishima. “And we go out for coffee? My treat.”
That grin is back, almost enough to outshine the flush that comes to his face. “Sure! As long as I get to have breakfast on your dime too!”
Bakugou snorts, shaking his head. “You’re pushing your luck, Eiji.” He strides away, towards the officers loading the villain away. That one finally got a reaction, Kirishima staying rooted to the spot as surprise overcomes his features.
“C’mon, we gotta get going if you want to beat the rush!” he calls, waving Kirishima along.
His boisterous laugh bounces down the street after Bakugou, and eventually he jogs to catch up. “Whatever you say, Katsuki .”
Normally he’d beat down anyone who dared to use his first name to his face, but as Kirishima’s hand grips his through his glove, he finds he could get used to hearing it.
This could definitely work.