Chapter Text
Pulsing lights.
Pulsing beats.
Pulsing bodies.
Bodies everywhere.
Turn to the left; people.
Turn to the right; more people.
Blood pumping in time with every beat.
This wasn’t something he was usually into, but desperate times had called for desperate measures. The house had been silent, empty. He couldn’t stand it anymore and had fled, ran right to his friends when they’d called. Their shock would make this night worth it, he rarely came out with them.
The last time they’d all gone out together had been over six months ago and they’d all drank so much that each had determined it was an awful idea. He, however, hadn’t minded it quite so much. With as stressed as heroing made him it wasn’t a bad respite, and it hadn’t messed with his work the next day.
After that, it had become a weekly thing, but he kept it confined to his own house; he drank on the nights he didn’t have to work the next day and he used the day off to recover from any after effects. Even his worst hangover hadn’t been too awful, at least based on what the others had told him of their numerous hangovers. The vomiting was minimal, and the headache was tolerable: years of dealing with the never-ending stress stupid Deku caused him had apparently given him some sort of tolerance, or at least raised his pain tolerance threshold (one could argue that as both a good and bad thing).
Tonight though- tonight he needed to be out. He needed the crush of people that he usually hated and the smell of sweat that wasn’t laced with nitroglycerin. His apartment had started getting claustrophobic and Kirishima had started calling him a hermit and threatening to bring people over; an effective threat since Bakugou hated the idea of those loud idiots in his place.
The club is packed as he makes his way through the entrance, people elbowing him and rubbing on him as he pushes his way further in. The text he received from Kirishima indicated they were in the small balcony near the back. Leave it to that crew to be extra when they went out. He can see the balcony tucked away in a corner and sure enough, there’s a crop of bright red hair he can spot a mile away. There’s a familiar pink puffball beside it that can only be Ashido Mina, which isn’t surprising. Kirishima hardly went anywhere in public without her, she was like his damn security blanket. He would have speculated long ago they were dating if he didn’t know them as well as he did. As it stood Kirishima preferred being single and Ashido didn’t seem like she was ready to settle either… in fact, Bakugou couldn’t recall ever actually seeing her with someone and he was sure she would have blown up their annoying group chat with pictures if she was with someone.
He takes the stairs two at a time up to the balcony, deliberately being loud to draw the attention of the crew of idiots he sometimes called his friends (not that he’d ever be caught dead saying that out loud- especially not within earshot of them). When he reaches the top he’s greeted with not a single damn one of them even looking in his direction. So much for the shock value of him actually showing up, they’d gone and blown that fucking plan out of the water. Assholes.
“Tch.”
Kaminari is the closest to the stairs and the first to hear Bakugou’s angry scoff, meaning Bakugou gets the pleasure of seeing the blonde’s face pale at the noise and his yellow eyes widen in a mix of half terror-half shock. Bakugou merely raises an eyebrow and cocks a hip against the stair railing as he watches Kaminari start flailing wildly and hitting his companions to get their attention; Kirishima gets a smack to the head, Sero gets a shoe to the ass, and Mina gets slapped on the back during the freakout.
Kirishima, blessed ray of sunshine that is almost always too bright for Bakugou to handle, is the first to turn around to see what the hell the electric blonde is panicking about. His eyes settle on the grumpy blonde at the stairs and that smile shoots upwards to its megawatt intensity. Bakugou chooses to ignore how Kirishima’s eyes rake over his body from toe to head as he smiles. Kirishima’s little crush was known throughout the group and Bakugou was always glad that the red headed idiot never tried to pressure him. Kirishima wasn’t a bad guy, but there was no room for romance in making it to the top hero spot.
“Bakubro! You showed up! Wow!” His huge smile is blindly bright up close, causing Bakugou to squint as Kirishima wraps his huge arms around him. Five seconds of it is all Bakugou can take before he’s working his hands between them to push the other man away with a grunt. Kirishima, however, takes it in stride and spins around to beam that smile at the rest of the group. “Look, Ashido! Bakugou showed up! You were totally right.”
Ashido’s knowing look causes Bakugou to growl in her direction, a noise that’s drowned out in the already thumping bass pulsing through the club. “Of course, he came, sweetie. We asked nicely after all. Even Bakugou can’t stay away from us forever- “she shoots him another sly look that has his eyebrow twitching “-no matter how much he pretends he can.”
The effect is near instantaneous and predictable; Bakugou leaps across the small space with a finger in her face, steam all but pouring from his ears. “Listen, you little pink shit. I’ll show up whenever and wherever I damn well please. Keep your conspiracy theories out of my life.” For effect he jabs his finger against her nose then backs off, taking up his spot against the railing by the stairs once more. Ashido scrunches her nose at the feeling then shoots him a smile full of teeth, leaning back into a small table behind her. She’s not wrong but damned if he was going to admit it.
They’d all managed to stay in touch since UA and no matter how much he tried to ignore the group he always ended up back around them. The ‘BakuSquad’, as they called themselves, stuck together through it all. And while openly he admonished their stupidity, secretly he was at least a little glad they hadn’t abandoned him because of his personality. Kirishima, bless his big ass heart, to this day still was his self-proclaimed best friend and the one who always asked him to do things with the group. They all knew Kirishima was the only one who could laugh off Bakugou’s bad attitude.
Kirishima latches an arm behind Bakugou’s neck and pulls him in for a side-hug. Bakugou does his best not to blow the other male up, barely managing to hold in an explosion only because he knew the club would probably boot him for it. Kirishima flashes him another huge grin and then throws an arm into the air with a shout, causing the blonde to wince and glare. “The gang’s all here! Let’s get this party started!” He releases Bakugou in order to round up the rest of their squad, pulling everyone into a side-hug as he ushers them towards the stairs. Suddenly he stops and turns to address everyone with an air of unusual seriousness. “No one’s on deck tomorrow, right,” he asks with a somber face. Bakugou resists the urge to chuckle at the look, opting instead to smirk as everyone shakes their heads in an affirmation that no, they all indeed had off tomorrow. Kirishima’s resulting triumphant grin is infectious. “Perfect,” he yells, almost too loud, “then let’s go drink!”
He watches his four friends file down the stairs and start pushing towards the bar, opting to stay behind and take his rightful place in the corner seat of the balcony. It had the best view of the club and he could watch the door too. Kirishima had given him hell last time about taking the spot but once Bakugou gave him ‘the look’ he’d quieted right down. Ashido’s obnoxious pink hair and horns make her the easiest to track in the crowd, easier to see than even Kirishima’s tall circus he called hair. Most of the crowd seems to part easily to let the heroes through, some knowing who they are and others just moving due to the confident air the group exuded. Separately they were all nutcases, but together even Bakugou had to admit they looked like a formidable bunch.
Seeing them safely at the bar, he decides to focus his attention elsewhere. Red eyes scan the crowd with focused scrutiny, looking for any potential troublemakers, but seeing everything relatively calm he settles back into his seat and pulls his phone out, slouching down and bringing the device up to glare directly into his retinas. Recovery Girl had yelled at him in school about holding his phone so close, but he didn’t care; it kept most everyone out of his face.
His phone shows six e-mails, four unread text messages, one missed call (probably his old hag of a mother), and fifteen group chat messages.
“Haaa?!”
That log had been empty when he got in here, he had made sure of it. That meant those idiots were chatting through it AT THE FUCKING BAR. He cuts a glare around the phone screen to get a glimpse of the bar, confirming all four idiots had their faces also buried in their phones. Had they even picked up drinks?
Growling low he taps to open the messenger app to see what all the fuss is about. The messages are steadily rolling in, punctuated by pictures that are taking forever to load. He scrolls to the top of the newest messages and starts reading through, curious to see what they found so intriguing that it interrupted their night.
Six messages and one screenshot later he wishes he hadn’t looked; Stupid. Fucking. Deku. That idiot was on his way to the club as well, if the screenshot from Ashido was true. She had invited him earlier in the night and he had just confirmed an hour ago that he would ‘try to make it out’. Bakugou was wishing he wouldn’t try and would just not show up. He didn’t need the stress of dealing with the green haired freckled idiot’s mumbling and staring. He wasn’t dressed right to be seen by- Whoa, no, stop that right fucking there. He just didn’t need to deal with Deku, period. End of story.
Growling to himself he taps out a response in the chat;
‘Get the fuck back here with my drink and stop mooning over broccoli-head.’
The response from Kirishima is an immediate wink-emoji followed by ‘You know I only have eyes for you, Bakubro.’
Bakugou rolls his eyes and stuffs his phone into his pocket without responding. No need to encourage Kirishima’s flirting, he got enough as it was.
He can see Kirishima now pushing his way back through the crowd and is met with the red head’s shining eyes minutes later. Kirishima squats down in front of Bakugou as a servant would and offers him the drink; some colorful concoction that looked tasty (not that Bakugou would say that out loud, no need to ruin his contrarian image). A softly spoken ‘tch’ is all Kirishima gets as Bakugou scoops the drink away and takes a sip.
Shit tasted as colorful as it looked.
Bakugou shoots Kirishima a look over the rim of the glass, eyes hard. “You did good, hair for brains. Nice job.”
Kirishima’s answering smile is all teeth and he jumps from his spot on the ground to cheer. He does some weird shimmy-dance that Bakugou won’t admit he follows with his eyes. Look, Kirishima wasn’t totally awful looking and Bakugou did have eyes…. he just also didn’t have time for dating but that didn’t mean he didn’t LOOK sometimes.
As if catching it despite Bakugou trying to be subtle, Kirishima’s eyes glint and he reaches a hand towards his friend. “Wanna come dance with me? I know you’re gonna get moody when Midoriya shows up and- “
There was the downside to Kirishima; he couldn’t keep his mouth closed.
Bakugou growls at him and bares his teeth. “Don’t you dare fucking talk like Deku has any control over my life.”
Kirishima’s hands shoot up in surrender and he backs off. Honestly, he should’ve known better but the idiot never THOUGHT. Now he would sit here angry all night.
Everyone always swooned over Deku. It hadn’t changed in all their years together and Bakugou could not understand the overwhelming appeal. Sure, his dumb round face was kind of adorable and his muttering was occasionally endearing… but that was it. And how was it that everyone was drawn to him? There wasn’t a single person Bakugou knew that didn’t immediately run to Deku like he was the world’s greatest thing.
Kirishima is still staring at Bakugou with those big dumb sad eyes, so Bakugou relents and shrugs. “‘S whatever. Just shut up about fucking Deku.”
The redhead bobs his head quickly in affirmation and grins, knowing he’s forgiven. “So, do you want to come dance with me?”
There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes that Bakugou wants to ignore but can’t. When they were still in school, he would have been able to but the years had seen his attitude diminish to being able to be around people without biting their heads off- and as always Kirishima had always been an exception. His thick skin apparently also protected his feelings; he had never seemed to get too hurt at what the angry blonde said and had never taken his threats seriously.
“Tch. Yeah fine, whatever” he relents, tossing back the rest of the shitty colorful concoction in one large swig. Ugh, gross. But at least it was gone and now he could move on to something different. He sets the glass down and rises to his feet to peg Kirishima with a stare. “Get me something stronger and I’ll meet you down there with the idiots.”
Kirishima is visibly eager to please as he rushes down the stairs and pushes through the crowd, causing Bakugou to smirk. He could probably get the other male to bark like a dog if he asked with enough conviction. Eh, maybe another time. For now, he’d settle with the redhead being his drink-gofer and dancing partner….and maybe when Deku showed up he’d bounce before he had the chance to see everyone go gaga over the freckled jackass.
The night sees him actually enjoying time with the group despite his outward protestations. Kirishima has jumped to get him drinks the three other times he’s asked, Deku has yet to show up, Ashido has all but draped herself over Sero (no surprise there,) and Kaminari is hitting on everything that is even mildly attractive (also not a surprise).
What is surprising is Ashido sauntering back into their balcony retreat an hour later with shots balanced in her hands and one, somehow, grasped between her teeth.
“I’m not drinking that one, I don’t know what your lips have been all over tonight.”
After Mina dislodges the glass, she gives him a wink and a sultry smile. “Aw sweetie, you’re just jealous they haven’t been all over you.”
Tiny explosions start popping in his hands at her words as he all but yells, “What did you just say to me, you bubblegum haired alien?!”
Kirishima jumps to grab his hands and keep him away from their friend. “She was joking, Bakugou! You know she was joking!”
With a huff, the angry blonde turns away and crosses his arms across his chest effectively tucking his hands away from causing a disaster. This seems to pacify Kirishima whose smile looks close to fracturing from the stress of having to manage the human equivalent of dynamite, both in personality and quirk. Bakugou isn't stupid though; he knows blowing shit up would get them kicked out and he's not going down that road again. There's already a string of boring-ass coffee shops that won't let him, or any of his group, back in due to him exploding several coffee cups after a stressful day and the baristas fucking his order up cause they were too busy staring or giggling.
Ashido’s snicker only infuriates the angry blonde more, causing him to step towards her with the intent to give her a blast to the face. He’s halted in his tracks by Kirishima’s hands against his chest, the large male physically blocking his advance towards their friend. When Bakugou looks up to question him all he can see is Kirishima’s smile, sharp teeth on full display. “Chill out, man. Lemme go get you another drink and you just- just relax, yeah?”
Kirishima is already backing away to the stairs by the time he’s done speaking. Bakugou wants to question the movement because the redhead didn’t even give him a chance to answer and just decided for him, something Bakugou isn’t overly fond of. Did he want another drink? Fuck yes. But he wanted a choice in the matter and not Kirishima running to grab one to pacify the situation. Bakugou rolls his eyes instead of snapping at his friend. “Sure, whatever. Not that colorful shit again though. Get me something strong.”
Kirishima nods enthusiastically as he bounds down the stairs and darts through the crowd slow with more agility than Bakugou knew he possessed outside of stopping villains and saving people. Color him mildly impressed. He’d be more impressed though when he saw what Kirishima brought back.
With his number one fan now out of the way, Bakugou takes up his seat again and snatches two shot glasses from the table Ashido had deposited them on. The first one down his throat burns. The second shot to go down doesn’t burn any less but it’s more pleasant now that he’s expecting it, however, that doesn’t stop the grimace that spreads across his lips as he swallows. No one could ever accuse him of liking the taste, not when his face gave away how he felt. No, Bakugou Katsuki drank to unwind. To forget. To stop being himself. To get out of his head for a few hours. And it always worked, right until the next morning when the alcohol was gone, and he had to sit there and contemplate swallowing more liquid fire or just drinking water and pretending like he didn’t hate himself.
Ashido’s voice floats by in a buzz, yapping away about a recent rescue she’d done and how she got to save a cute guy. Bakugou wasn’t paying too much attention anymore, instead letting his gaze wander aimlessly across the dance floor as he contemplated how much he could drink before the group left.
By his calculation, he’d have to stop sending Kirishima for drinks after this one or the redhead would get nosey and start up on his spiel of him maybe having a problem. He’d only had…. What, five so far tonight? Okay, maybe six if he counted the two shots as separate. And none of them had been particularly strong, props to Kirishima not knowing good shit from mediocre. The guy wasn’t a drinker and usually went with whatever the bartender suggested…. which was usually less hard liquor but cost more for being ’pretty’.
Kaminari flops unceremoniously down beside him and nudges his shoulder, jolting Bakugou from his reverie and earning a glare. Kaminari takes the glare in stride, more than used to it by now, and grins. He wiggles an eyebrow in Bakugou’s direction and jerks his head off in the direction Kirishima ran off to. “So, you gonna keep dragging Kiri around or are you actually considering dating him?” At Bakugou’s scoff and eye roll, Kaminari turns the jovial expression to one akin the look of a parent dealing with a naughty child. “Stop fucking with him, Bakugou. The guy likes you and will fall over himself to please you. You’re leading him on.”
This wasn’t a new conversation between them. Since high school, this had been a reoccurring issue that never ended up resolved. Bakugou wasn’t intentionally leading Kirishima on. Plain and simple; Kirishima knew Bakugou didn’t feel that way towards him yet he kept acting the same way, Bakugou knew Kirishima liked him and didn’t treat him any differently than he did before he knew. Their arrangement worked out.
“Shut up, Dunceface.”
“What are we talking about?”
Kirishima’s cheery voice cuts through and Bakugou is left wondering how long he’d been standing that close and how much had he heard. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard much, Bakugou didn’t think he could stand Kirishima’s pouty face if he had.
“Not shit. Mind your business you shark-toothed fuck.” The glare Kaminari shoots Bakugou is nothing short of withering but the angry blonde ignores it in favor of squinting at the drink Kirishima holds in his hand. “What’d ya get me?”
Kirishima blushes a little and shyly holds up the cup full of brown unassuming liquid. “I asked the bartender and they said it was Jack & Coke? It smells awful” he explains, wrinkling his nose in memory of the smell.
The entire group startles as Bakugou leaps for the glass and all but rips it from Kirishima’s hands. His lips close around the glass greedily and he starts swallowing in big gulps, eager to get the liquor into his system. So eager, in fact, that he doesn't hear Kirishima mentioning who he found at the bar or the newcomer watching him with wide worried eyes.
It's not until he sets the glass down half-empty that he realizes everyone is staring at him warily. It's a look similar to what one would give a wild animal they weren't sure would bite or flee. Lips tugging into a snarl he rounds on the group, “The fuck you looking at me for, assholes?”
A small, too familiar hand raises meekly from behind Kirishima in a half wave and Bakugou has all of two seconds to process who the green haired shortstack is stepping out from behind his overly large red headed friend.
Fuck. That was what the staring was for.
Bakugou drops back into his seat, a little too hard, and raises unsteady hands to rub his face. Okay maybe he’d drank that last one too fast. Because shitty Deku was standing there and when did he fucking get there and why was stuff blurring at the edges and was Kirishima whispering? He swats a hand in Kirishima’s direction, grateful the other man understands when he hauls him to his suddenly unsteady feet. He had to get the fuck out of here, he didn’t want to deal with stupid Deku. That had been the plan; get out before Midoriya showed up and ruined everything.
Halfway down the stairs- when had he made the conscious decision to leave?- he realizes blearily he has a green haired follower. He picks up his pace as much as he can without stumbling and tries to lose the other man in the crowd. A girl dancing catches his eye and closes in on him, drink in her hand the only thing Bakugou has eyes for. He lets her in close then snatches it away, downing it in one large gulp and then spinning himself away to get lost in the crowd once more. The bright side is he can’t see Midoriya’s green hair anywhere now and that’s enough to ease the anxiety that had been slowly building in his chest since he noticed the freckled little freak upstairs.
So he lets his guard down and makes a wiggly beeline for the bar to grab another drink before he extricates himself from the situation.
One more shot.
One more drink.
So what if he was realizing his vision was a little hazy at the edges now? So what if he may or may not be using the bar to keep himself from swaying a little right now? He’d be done after this next drink anyways and all would be okay. He wasn’t even as drunk as he usually got on nights off so this really wasn’t even a huge deal- or so he thought.
The bartender hands him his drink in exchange for cash and then motions behind him. Thinking he needed to move out of the way, and seriously fuck the bartender for telling him to move like that, he turns around on unsteady feet only to look down into a pair of vibrant green eyes set in grim determination.
“Fuck.”