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Bakugo’s heart slams in his chest. Each beat feels like another one of Midoriya’s punches, making him slightly recoil each time. He’s in so much pain that he can barely hear Aizawa’s scolding over the throbbing in his arms and chest. He knows Midoriya’s eyes are on him, but he doesn’t bother to look up from the ground. He keeps his eyes down the entire time. He doesn’t want anybody to see the fear in his eyes.
When Aizawa finally lets them go, Bakugo immediately heads off toward his room. His footsteps are heavy and weighted with more than just fatigue. His whole body is exhausted, and his mind is completely overwhelmed with emotions he can’t even name. He doesn’t even know who he’s angrier at anymore.
Midoriya? Check. Himself? Double check. Fucking All Might? Probably at least a little bit. All he knows for sure is that it’s eating him alive on the inside. No matter what, he can’t escape from the loneliness that’s crawling menacingly through his mind.
As he languidly walks through the dorms with his hands buried in his pockets, he keeps hearing a voice in his head. The voice, way too close in likeness to his own, keeps talking no matter how many times he tells it to go away. I’m weak, it keeps urging. I can’t do anything right. I can’t even fucking win right.
Bakugo bares his teeth in a growl. He tries to target it at the voice, even though there’s nothing to target except the walls. So that’s what he uses. He draws in a quick, shaky breath and launches his arm into the wall. If he was at full strength, there would be a huge hole where his fist is. In his exhausted state, though, he makes barely more that a light smack against the surface. It doesn’t make him feel any stronger.
All Bakugo wants to do is scream. He wants to just scream and cry and maybe break something in the process. He knows it’s pathetic, and very childish, but he would do just about anything to get that stupid condescending voice in his head to shut the fuck up. He knows he’s weak. He doesn’t need some disembodied voice to tell him so. His arm is trembling slightly as he lets it drop to his side. He knows nobody else is in the hallway, but he still feels like there’s eyes on him. He hates how the only real company he has is that voice. He grits his teeth, shutting his eyes tight as if that would somehow get it out of his head. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows he can’t be alone right now. He needs somebody else’s company to block out those deprecating thoughts.
After a few more minutes of pained meandering, Bakugo reaches his room. He’s about to go in when his eyes wander to the door next to his. A sudden pang hits his gut. Kirishima is definitely asleep by now, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the redhead’s door. He is the only person Bakugo would let see him all disheveled like this, after all.
But one thing’s stopping him from knocking on that door. Unsurprisingly, it’s his own fucking head. That stupid little voice hasn’t left yet. It keeps telling him he doesn’t deserve to be comforted. He doesn’t deserve to see the one person that would comfort him.
I know that already , he growls back. He knows fully well he doesn’t deserve to be in his boyfriend’s arms. But he needs it. He needs to be comforted, regardless of what he deserves. He knows it’s selfish, but he doesn’t care. So he forces himself to knock on his boyfriend’s door. He knows Kirishima sleeps like an actual rock, so he tries to channel what little strength he has left into his knock. It takes a few moments, but eventually he hears shuffling behind the wood. The door slowly opens to reveal an obviously groggy Kirishima. His hair is sprawled out in about seven directions. His eyes are bleary and there’s a small stripe of drool coming down from his mouth. He looks ridiculous, but the sight of him is amazing to Bakugo’s sore eyes.
“Katsuki…?” the redhead mutters drowsily. He rubs his eyes for a moment, then wipes the drool from his mouth. “What are you doing here?”
Just hearing that voice is enough to make Bakugo’s heart swell. “I need to talk to you. Now.” His voice is shaky, but the urgency comes through quite well.
That wakes Kirishima up. He blinks a few times, looking shocked and a little concerned. “O-Oh, okay. What’s up?”
Bakugo meets the redhead’s eyes. He can only hold eye contact for just a second before turning away. He pushes past Kirishima and stomps into his room, without saying a word.
Kirishima blinks, startled, and watches Bakugo walk in. He then frowns, closing the door slowly. “Uh, dude?” he starts. “Are you okay? You look...pretty awful.”
Bakugo feels awful, too, but he can’t admit that just yet. He also can’t make himself look the redhead in the eyes. “...I got in a fight,” he forces himself to say. “A couple hours ago.”
Kirishima’s eyes widen. “In the middle of the night?”
The blond just nods, still not looking up from the ground. He bites the inside of his lip. “With Deku. I-I punched him. I didn’t even have a reason for it.”
Kirishima’s eyes widen more. “Dude,” he mutters. “I know you don’t like him, but...jeez. You didn’t have to just deck him because you were mad.”
“I know!” Bakugo suddenly shouts. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, okay?! But I did. I was pissed, and I fucking hit him. I…” He trails off, the words getting stuck in his throat. His chest constricts more with each breath he heaves. The fabric of his tank top now somehow feels too tight on his body.
Even though he can’t see Bakugo’s eyes, Kirishima hears the pain in his voice. “Hey,” he says softly, placing a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. He can feel the tension in the blond’s muscles. “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
Bakugo’s heart starts climbing into his throat. Kirishima’s gentle hand stroking his sore muscle is too tempting, almost like a tease. I shouldn’t be here , the stupid voice in his head keeps chanting. I don’t deserve to be here.
He averts his eyes even further away. “I hate that I’m just...just fucking unloading all my stupid problems onto you, but I can’t tell this shit to anyone else.” He bites the inside of his lip, trying to swallow his rising anxiety. “You’re the only one I trust enough in this fucking place.”
Kirishima looks shocked for a moment, then a kind smile forms on his face. “It’s okay, Katsu. That’s what I’m here for.” He pats Bakugo’s shoulder before pulling his hand away. “Let’s go sit down. Then you don’t have to strain yourself.”
Bakugo will never understand how this idiot manages to be so nice to him. He briefly glances over at the redhead, heart skipping a beat at his stupidly soft smile. Then he nods as he walks over and takes a seat on Kirishima’s bed.
Kirishima sits down right next to him, so close that their shoulders are about a centimeter away from touching. “Tell me what’s going on.” It’s a command, but a gentle, good-natured one.
Bakugo awkwardly rests his hands on his knees. He keeps his eyes on the ground, somewhat afraid of what he’d see in the redhead’s gaze if he met it. “I...It’s...ugh.”
Why can’t he say it? Kirishima won’t judge him. He should know that by now, but he can’t help being scared. That stupid little voice isn’t shutting up, either, so that doesn’t help. His hands clench, trembling. He’s not going to cry. He can’t afford to cry.
“I just...I just feel so fucking weak, Eiji,” he forces out. “That bastard Deku...nngh.”
Kirishima places a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time, Katsu. I’m not going anywh--”
“Eijirou,” Bakugo grumbles, cutting the redhead off. “Do you know why I hate Deku so much?”
Kirishima blinks in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that question. “Uh...why?”
Bakugo glowers at the ground. “Because I’m jealous. Ever since we were stupid kids, I’ve been jealous of that fucking nerd. And it makes me look pathetic. I’ve always told myself it was his fault, but it…” He draws in a shaky breath. Then bares his teeth in a growl. “Why does he have to be the one that’s better than me?” he snarls, voice full of obvious hostility. “What...what am I doing wrong...?”
The hostility immediately fades from his voice. He doesn’t even have the energy to keep it up, which makes him feel even more pathetic.
Kirishima’s heart squeezes. He’s seen the blond break down a few times, but never like this. He doesn’t even know what to say. He sighs softly. “You’re not doing anything wrong, Katsu. Midoriya’s strong, sure, but I don’t think he’s better than you. You each have your own styles, and you both work hard at them.”
Bakugo’s snarl only grows. Those aren’t the words he wants to hear. “You’re only saying that because you’re fucking biased.”
Kirishima frowns. “Huh?”
“You’re my boyfriend,” Bakugo mutters, the firm edge returning to his voice. “You’re supposed to say shit like that.”
Kirishima’s frown deepens, but not out of anger. “Katsuki, I’m not saying that because I’m your boyfriend. I’m saying it because it’s true.” He tries to keep his voice as gentle as he can, which isn’t that hard for him. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to make me think you’re weak.”
Bakugo is silent for a moment. Then he grimaces. “But...but I am,” he protests. He isn’t sure why he keeps saying it, but he can’t accept anything else. “I still wanna be...no, I’m gonna be the number one hero, but…” He lets his head drop to his chest. “But what kind of a hero thinks of himself as the weakest person on the fucking planet…?”
To his surprise, Kirishima laughs. It’s not a mocking laugh, because Kirishima isn’t capable of that, but it’s still a bit unusual. “Dude, you’re talking to someone who went through the entirety of middle school hating himself for wanting to go to UA.” He gives the blond a small but bright smile. “Things get better, Katsuki.”
His words -- and the soft voice he says them in -- feel like a hug, which Bakugo could really use right about now. His desperate heart aches. He tries to ignore it, as hard as that is.
“Hey, let’s stop talking about Midoriya for now,” Kirishima continues, probably feeling the anxiousness in the blond’s body. He strokes Bakugo’s shoulder softly.
Bakugo’s head drops even further. “I...I shouldn’t have said anything,” he blurts, voice barely above a whisper.
Kirishima frowns. “What?”
Bakugo’s throat constricts. He knows what that’s leading to, and he doesn’t like it one bit. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he repeats, a bit more forcefully. “Because now I feel so much worse than I did before. It’s not you, Ei. I know it isn’t. It’s just me being the fucking mess that I am. I shouldn’t have even come here in the first place.”
Kirishima furrows his brow, eyes widening slightly. “Katsu…”
Bakugo can feel the pricking of tears forming in his eyes. He covers them with the back of his arm, almost reflexively so. There’s still so much he wants to say, but he just can’t. His constricted throat starts to burn. His lip is probably bleeding from how hard he’s chewing at it.
Kirishima watches the blond hide his face. His eyebrows twist up in concern. “Hey,” he mutters in a gentle croon. “You don’t have to hold it back around me. I still think you’re strong, y’know.” He waits for a moment, but that doesn’t seem to be the right thing to say. He sighs and gives Bakugo’s shoulder a soft pat. “It’s okay. I know you’re in pain, Katsuki. You can let it out if you need to, alright? I’m right here for you.”
Bakugo still says nothing. It’s not even a matter of being weak or strong at this point. It’s just saving what little face he has left. He doesn’t want to cry over this for the second time tonight. The tears forming in his eyes don’t stop, though.
Kirishima knows Bakugo hates being emotional. He doesn’t like seeing his boyfriend cry, but he dislikes this pre-crying state even more. He lets out a sigh. ”Come here,” he says, opening his arms.
Bakugo peeks at him from behind his arm. The warmth in the redhead’s kind, gentle eyes beckons him closer, and makes his own eyes blur over with tears. Before he can process it, he’s throwing himself into Kirishima’s embrace. Kirishima immediately squeezes him tightly to his chest, enveloping the blond in his gentle warmth.
“I...I hate feeling like this,” Bakugo utters softly. “I don’t wanna feel like I can’t do anything.”
Kirishima gently strokes the blond’s back with his thumb. “I know.”
Bakugo pauses for a moment, trying to swallow back a sob. “Everything…everything’s fucking stupid.”
“I know, Katsu,” Kirishima repeats. He places a kiss on the top of his boyfriend’s head, a kiss just as gentle as his voice.
As the redhead holds him, Bakugo realizes something. Kirishima does know. He always has, and Bakugo just didn’t know how to believe it. He’s not just saying that to mess with him, because that’s just not Kirishima’s style.
He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he can talk at all through the desert that is his throat.
Kirishima squeezes Bakugo’s torso even tighter to his chest. “It’s gonna be okay, Katsuki,” he nearly whispers. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise.”
There they are. There’s the words Bakugo’s been wanting to hear all night. He doesn’t understand how one simple sentence can combat the voice that’s been taunting him all this time, but he doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the honesty behind the redhead’s voice.
Everything is gonna be okay. He has to believe that, and he knows Kirishima won’t make a promise he can’t keep.
“You don’t have to be alone, Katsuki,” Kirishima continues, sensing the blond’s apprehension. “As long as I’m here, you’ll never be alone.”
Bakugo draws in a shaky breath. He holds Kirishima tighter, almost as if he’s trying to sink into the redhead’s body. He knows he’s desperate. He knows it, but he doesn’t care. Something in that idiot’s voice is telling him to let it go.
And he finally obeys.
All the anger and other emotions he’s been holding back for hours start pouring out of his eyes. The sobs burn as they leave his throat. He clutches Kirishima tighter, shoving his face deeper into the fabric of the redhead’s shirt. His knuckles start turning white as he holds on even tighter. He can’t risk letting him go, not even for a second. It sucks. It fucking sucks feeling this pathetic, but having Kirishima’s arms around him makes it a little bit easier. Bakugo doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand how just a modicum of Kirishima’s light can make its way through his dark, cold mind.
The soft hand stroking his hair. The other hand gently caressing his back. Even the occasional heartbeat in the redhead’s chest. Everything about him is just...warm. Kirishima’s embrace feels like basking in literal sunlight. He tries to absorb all he can of that warmth, nuzzling further into his boyfriend’s skin. The darkness in his mind slowly dissipates as he realizes something.
I’m not alone. I’m okay.
Bakugo’s deprecating thoughts are burned away, one by one, until all that’s left is the burn in his throat from crying. He does have a small headache, but he’s not focused on that.
His mind is finally quiet. The voice is gone, and it feels so much better. He’s not thinking about that stupid Midoriya, or All Might’s stupid words, or even how stupid he was a few hours ago. All he wants to think about is how not stupid Kirishima’s embrace feels around him right now. He takes a deep, somewhat shaky breath in, closing his eyes to fully take in the redhead’s rays. It’s nice. He needed some sunlight.
“...Eiji,” Bakugo rasps, his hoarse voice slightly muffled.
“Yeah?”
Bakugo tries to squeeze he redhead tighter, but it only lasts for a few seconds. “...Thank you,” he says after a small moment of silence.
Kirishima gives the blond’s back a gentle pat. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m serious, Eiji. I…” Bakugo pauses for a moment, swallowing back another whimper. “I don’t know how you put up with all my bullshit. I’m a fucking pathetic asshole. I’m weak.” He bites his lip. Kirishima stays silent at that. It hurts, but he knows it’s not out of contempt. Which, truthfully, hurts even more.
He sniffles, blinking rapidly to force out the rest of the tears. He knows Kirishima can’t see his face, though he still looks away to hide it. “But you’re still here. You’re always here for me. You’ve never given up or looked down on me.” The words are unbelievable, even though he’s the one saying them. “You...you’re the best friend I could’ve ever asked for. I love you so fucking much, Eiji. I-I…”
It’s only about a fraction of what he wants to say. He wants to tell Kirishima just how much he means to him, but his voice stops working before he can.
It’s enough for Kirishima, though. He smiles warmly at Bakugo, even though he knows the blond can’t see it. “I love you too, ‘Suki.” He runs a soft hand through Bakugo’s hair, gently pressing his head further into his shoulder. “I’ll always be here to support you. I know that one day you’ll realize how strong you really are,” the redhead says with the gentle optimism that he always uses. Somehow, that seems perfectly plausible when Kirishima says it.
Bakugo thinks Kirishima deserves to hear much better words than the ones he’s said, but the burning in his throat makes it hard to speak. Although, he does manage to say one more thing before his voice breaks again.
“You’re a literal fucking angel.”
He then snuggles himself into Kirishima’s neck, gratefully absorbing the feeling of the redhead’s skin underneath him. His breathing begins to slowly even out. The only sound in the room is Kirishima’s heartbeat, and although it’s faint it’s quite calming.
After what feels like an hour or two has passed, Bakugo slowly pulls himself away. He didn’t realize how cold it was in the room until now.
“You okay?” the redhead asks softly, tilting his head slightly.
Bakugo glances over and realizes Kirishima is staring at him. His eyes look just as gentle and warm as his arms. Their gazes lock for a bit, for just a second too long. Bakugo’s stomach churns, eyes slowly filling back up with tears. When he notices the familiar sting in his eyes, he flinches and immediately covers his face with his arm again. “F-Fuck,” he growls. “I...Why can’t I stop fucking crying?”
Kirishima’s eyebrows twist up in concern, heart constricting at the return of the blond’s watery tone. “Probably just emotional overload, I guess.” He reaches over and gives Bakugo’s hair a gentle ruffle. “You must be exhausted after all of this.” Bakugo tries to wipe his eyes, but more tears quickly fall down after.
Kirishima lets out a small sigh. “Come on,” he goads, moving his hand from the blond’s hair and holding it in front of him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Bakugo sniffles a bit as he takes the outstretched hand and lets Kirishima pull him up with minimal resistance. He intertwines their fingers as he stands, clutching the redhead’s hand tightly in his own. He lets Kirishima pull him along without saying anything, and without even looking at where they were going.
A few moments later, a bright flash of light makes Bakugo’s eyes hurt. He covers his them with his free arm, blinking a few times to adjust. He looks around, eyes still slightly hurting, and realizes they’re in the bathrooms. He lets Kirishima drag him over to a mirror. He stays silent as he watches Kirishima wet down a paper towel in the sink.
Kirishima squeezes some of the excess water out before turning back to Bakugo. He gently wipes the paper towel under the blond’s eyes and over his cheeks, slightly pursing his lips in concentration.
Bakugo, too tired to protest, obediently tilts his head to the side as the redhead makes his way across his face. The paper towel itself is scratchy, but Kirishima’s soft touch actually makes it feel kind of nice.
“Do...do you have bandages…?” the blond mutters, trying to pretend his voice doesn’t totally crack as he says it.
“I think I have some in my room, but I gotta get some of this dirt off you first,” Kirishima replies with a small laugh. Eventually, he finishes cleaning Bakugo’s face and tosses the paper towel in the trash. He grabs another one, wets it, and begins the same procedure on Bakugo’s arms. He’s careful not to press too hard on his injuries.
It’s only water, but it still stings a bit. Maybe it’s just the shitty material of the towel. Whatever it is, it’s over almost as quick as it started. He feels like he zoned out for a minute as Kirishima wiped up his arms.
Kirishima throws the paper towels into the trash and faces Bakugo with a smile. “I’ll bandage you up now,” he jokes, holding his hand out to the blond. Bakugo takes it, letting Kirishima pull him back to his room.
Once there, Bakugo takes a seat on the floor. Kirishima walks over to his desk and begins rummaging through the drawers. He mutters to himself as he does so, but Bakugo can’t hear what he’s saying.
After a moment of fishing through his things, Kirishima produces a roll of bandages and a couple of patches for Bakugo’s face. “Found them,” he cheers proudly as he takes a seat in front of the blond. “Hold out your arm.”
Bakugo hesitates for a moment, then complies. He watches as Kirishima gingerly takes his arm in his hands. ”Aizawa told me to fix this by myself, you know,” he grumbles, a small pang of guilt hitting his gut.
Kirishima briefly looks up from Bakugo’s arm, smirking. “Like you’re gonna tell him otherwise.”
Bakugo can’t pull his eyes away from Kirishima’s hand. The redhead’s touch is so gentle that he barely feels it. “...Hell no,” he concedes.
Kirishima just laughs as he continues what he’s doing. He eventually finishes one arm and moves on to the other. He wraps the skin slowly, being unusually careful. Once he finishes that arm, he sets down the roll of bandages.
The redhead gently moves Bakugo’s face to the side. He grabs the patch he set out earlier and slowly places it over Bakugo’s cheek. “There we go,” he mutters, probably to himself.
“Finally,” Bakugo grumbles as Kirishima pulls his hand away. He looks down at his arms, studying the redhead’s handiwork. It’s not bad. He probably could’ve done better himself, but he won’t tell Kirishima that.
“Not yet.” Kirishima has a cheeky grin on his lips, which seems somewhat out of place. “I gotta add the final touches.”
“...Final touches?” the blond repeats quizzically.
Kirishima takes Bakugo’s arm, being careful not to hold it too tight, and gently presses his lips against the bandaged areas.
Bakugo watches him do this with his lips slightly parted in surprise. His heart flutters more as Kirishima gets further up his arm. It’s unusual, but the redhead’s lips are so soft that it actually feels kind of nice. Kirishima apparently has a talent for making weird stuff not feel so weird.
Eventually, Kirishima reaches his shoulder. He pulls away for a second, just enough to gently let go of Bakugo’s arm. He then takes the blond’s other arm in his hands and begins doing the same thing. He trails soft kisses along Bakugo’s injuries, being ever-so-careful as usual. When he reaches the shoulder, he again pulls away. He reaches up and rests his hand on the blond’s cheek. He leans in, pressing another gentle kiss to the bandage on Bakugo’s cheek. Bakugo is definitely blushing by this point. He meets Kirishima’s eyes for just a moment, his heart beating just a bit faster in his chest.
Kiss me properly already, dumbass . He just wants to be that little bit closer to Kirishima. He doesn’t even care how desperate it makes him sound.
Luckily, Kirishima sees the desire in his matching red gaze. “Your lips aren’t injured, y’know,” he jokes, a teasing smirk on the lips Bakugo really wants to kiss.
“I don’t care,” the blond mutters. “Just...please.”
Kirishima laughs, but it isn’t mocking. He tucks a stray chunk of hair behind Bakugo’s ear and rests his hand back on his cheek. He brings Bakugo’s face toward his own, letting his lips gently press against the blond’s. Bakugo places his hands on Kirishima’s shoulders, trying to soak up as much of the redhead under his grip as he can. He pulls away for a second to breathe. It isn’t enough. He lets a hand travel up into the redhead’s hair as he locks their lips back together. Kirishima wraps his arms around Bakugo’s waist, holding him tight as they sink into each other.
Eventually, Bakugo pulls away. His lips buzz from the desperately needed contact as he meets Kirishima’s eyes once again. He lets his hands fall back onto Kirishima’s shoulders. He leans forward just a little bit, resting his forehead against the other man’s. He draws in a slow, careful breath.
“...Thank you.” His voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s teeming with gratitude. “For everything.”
Kirishima gives one of his famous warm smiles. “No problem.”
“I love you,” Bakugo mutters. “I know I already said that, but...I do. A lot.”
“You can say it as much as you want,” Kirishima chuckles, running his hand gently through Bakugo’s hair. “I love you too, Katsuki. I always will.”
A hint of a smile pulls at the corners of the blond’s mouth. His eyelids suddenly feel heavy, like they’re about to drop closed at any moment. “Let’s go to bed,” he mutters. “I’m really fucking tired.” Almost if to prove his point, a yawn escapes from his lips.
Kirishima hums in agreement. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Bakugo slowly stands up, his legs a bit more wobbly than he remembers them being. “What time is it anyway?” he asks as he climbs into Kirishima’s bed.
The redhead picks up his phone from the nightstand and his eyes go wide. “Jeez, it’s already almost 3 o’clock?” He looks over at Bakugo with a laugh. “No wonder you’re exhausted.”
Somehow, that doesn’t really surprise the blond. He rarely stays up past 9pm, but he at least knows what 3 in the morning feels like. He just lets out a small grumble and flops onto the mattress. His eyes immediately feel even heavier.
Kirishima follows suit and lays down next to Bakugo, who wastes no time snuggling back into the redhead’s arms.
“Goodnight, Katsuki,” Kirishima nearly whispers.
“...Night, Eiji,” Bakugo replies, the words barely audible over the drowsiness in his voice.
Kirishima gives him one last smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before closing his eyes. The blond nuzzles further into his chest, his own eyelids snapping closed like magnets.
As he starts to fall asleep, Bakugo realizes something.
If Kirishima is the sun, then he is never going to stay inside another day in his life. It almost doesn’t seem real how much Kirishima cares about him, but it is. It’s real, and it doesn’t matter if he deserves it or not. He’s never letting his sunshine go.
He drifts off that night with a quiet smile and an even quieter mind. For once, he knows everything is going to be okay.