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Katsuki frowned, looking sidelong at Kirishima as his friend devoured breakfast with his usual gusto. Everyone else was eager to be back at training, more than ready for their punishment to be over even if Aizawa would be pushing them extra hard to make up for the lost days. The others who’d helped him break Kirishima out of that stupid shithole of a town would’ve said everyone in their little group was just as eager, and though Katsuki still protested at being lumped in with them he wouldn’t deny he shared their enthusiasm. Kirishima, however, was just pretending.
He knew his friend wasn’t injured anymore, Shuzenji had cleared them both two days ago, but the only other thing he could think of that would make Kirishima not want to get back to training was if someone in the tribe had told him he shouldn’t. His friend was powerful, as any friend of his should be, but Kirishima put far too much stock in what others thought of him. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so... him.
Kirishima stood with a fake smile, and Katsuki shovelled the last of his own breakfast into his mouth so he could follow his friend to drop off his plate as well. He was going to get to the bottom of this before training, and if his suspension got extended for dealing with it then so be it. He’d trained on his own before, he’d do it again in a heartbeat before he let Kirishima walk around with someone else’s stupid ideas in his head. He was a dragon, for fuck’s sake! Nobody else in this two-bit camp of background characters was awesome enough to go around passing judgement on a dragon.
“Hey, shitty hair.” he grabbed Kirishima by the arm and pulled him aside as soon as they left the kitchen tent. Kirishima followed with a soft sound of confusion, and Katsuki stopped when they reached the edge of the woods. “Who’s been fucking with you?” he demanded, and Kirishima blinked at him, his face doing that Thing it did when he was confused. “Someone’s been bugging you, right? Telling you stupid shit and you’re overthinking it?” he punched his fist into his palm, magic leaking from between his fingers as tiny tongues of fire. “Gimme a name, I’ll handle them for you.”
“Bakugo.” Kirishima sighed, and Katsuki crossed his arms as his frown deepened to a scowl.
“You’re too nice to tell them off yourself, so I’ll do it for you. Name. Now.”
“Bakugo, nothing’s wrong.” Kirishima sighed, shoulders slumping like he held the weight of the world on them.
“Like fuck it is!” Katsuki didn’t often wish his friend would wear a damn shirt, but right now he kinda wished he had something to grab Kirishima by to shake him. “Give me a name, I’ll make them regret fucking with you.”
“Bakugo, it’s-”
“Don’t you dare say it’s fine.” Katsuki snarled, jabbing a finger against Kirishima’s chest. “You’re a dragon, and my friend to boot. You don’t take shit from anyone.”
“Nobody’s giving me shit, Bakugo.” Kirishima’s brow furrowed, the deep scar across his face deepening with his frown.
“Bullshit.” Katsuki snapped, shoving Kirishima and making him stumble back against a tree. “I know you, hair-for-brains, and you’re not fine. So give. Me. A name.” he punctuated his words with jabs of a finger against Kirishima’s chest, and finally his friend snapped, swatting his hand away and shifting his sharp teeth larger, his eyes to their draconic gold, his body bigger until he stood head and shoulders over Bakugo with red scales shining on his biceps.
“Nobody’s fucking with me!” Kirishima growled, voice deep enough it reverberated in Katsuki’s chest.
“Then what, did Shuzenji miss something? Do you need to talk to one of the grown-ups?”
“No.” Kirishima shook his head, draconic traits melting away as he shrank back to his true height. “It’s just, some stuff I’ve been thinking about.”
“What sort of stuff?” Katsuki frowned suspiciously, then deeper when Kirishima looked away. “I will drag you to Inui, you know I will.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Kirishima forced a laugh, and Katsuki grabbed him roughly by the wrist.
“You gonna stop me?” he glowered at his idiot friend, and didn’t miss how Kirishima’s eyes darted down to his arm. His arm which was still wrapped in bandages from wrist to elbow under the arm-warmers he’d gotten to help refine his magic’s accuracy. Oh. “But you won’t will you?” he asked, and Kirishima’s façade of normalcy crumbled.
“Never.” he choked out, laying a hand gently over Katsuki’s bandages.
“Tell me.” Katsuki ordered, and Kirishima’s breath hitched, eyes watering. Katsuki suddenly wished he’d dragged out the death of the bitch that did this to him, made her suffer the way his friend was suffering now.
“I just- I still feel like I shouldn’t’ve been rescued.” Kirishima confessed, his voice thick with the tears now slipping from the corners of his crimson eyes. “If I can’t trust myself not to hurt you, how can I trust myself in a fight at all?” his hand wrapped around Katsuki’s wrist oh-so-gently. “Every time I look at you I remember that I did this, that I enjoyed it. How can I be sure it won’t happen again? That I won’t hurt you even worse, and get left behind for it?”
Katsuki stared at Kirishima for a few long seconds as the words processed, then snarled and punched his friend in the chest as hard as he could with his off hand. “You fucking moron!”
“Wha-”
“I let you grab me.” he released his friend’s arm and pulled his bandaged one up, Kirishima’s hand still wrapped around his wrist. “I didn’t want those fucking chains on you any longer than they absolutely had to be, and it was the fastest way to distract you so raccoon-eyes could melt them off.” Kirishima blinked in utter bewilderment, and Katsuki met his stunned gaze with all the indignant rage he could muster. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” he swore, because apparently Kirishima hadn’t realized that. Somehow. They’d been best friends for four years and his idiot dragon still didn’t seem to know how it worked.
“You don’t mean that.” Kirishima said, voice sharp as his hand tightened to the point of pain around Katsuki’s wrist.
“If you ever, ever need a rescue, I’ll be there.” Bakugo rotated his arm slightly to grab Kirishima’s wrist in return, maintaining eye contact so his friend could see how serious he was. As if he’d ever joke about this, but for someone so awesome Kirishima was phenomenally stupid at times, so it hardly hurt to make sure. “No matter what it takes, no matter how many injuries I get. Even if I run out of mana and have to burn years off my own life, I will never leave you to die in some fucking cell. If either of us dies of anything but old age, we’re going down in battle.”
“Bakugo...” Kirishima’s voice wavered, tears streaming down his cheeks, and Bakugo held his arms out with a sigh.
“C’mere, you fucking shithead idiot.” he grumbled. Kirishima lurched forwards, wrapping him in a hug that made his ribs twinge and would probably leave a bruise. Katsuki wrapped his left arm around the back of his friend’s waist, and patted between his shoulder blades with his other hand. “When Aizawa lets us back on the training field, I’m gonna ask him about becoming dedicated partners first thing.” he promised, letting Kirishima sniffle against his shoulder. If Kirishima was worried about things going south in a fight, then Katsuki just had to be with him to watch his back. And if that meant staying home when Kirishima was too sick or injured to go on a raid, well, what fun was a fight if his best friend wasn’t there to fuck shit up with him?
“Thank you.” Kirishima mumbled, and Katsuki moved his hand up to run his fingers through the hair at the base of Kirishima’s skull.
“We’re best friends, you moron.” he muttered back, and tightened his arm around Kirishima’s waist. “But for real, if anyone gives you shit I’ll straighten them out.”
“Bakugo, no!” Kirishima pulled away laughing. Katsuki counted it as a victory.