Chapter Text
Despite his best efforts, Bakugo Katsuki made a friend.
He wasn’t proud of it, he wasn’t particularly excited about it, but it had happened and he was determined to make the best out of a weird situation. Sure, he’d had groupies in the past, people who followed him around (kind of like the pink one, and the stupid one, and the one with weird arms), but he had never really seen anybody else as an equal. Not until he met Kirishima Eijiro, that is.
And it’s been a weird transition, but he’s here now. And although he will never admit it out loud, it’s refreshing. Because the top is lonely and scary, and it’s nice to know that there’s someone else there when times are tough. It’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of, or rant to when Deku does something annoying, which is pretty much all the time. Someone who takes his, well, particular personality in stride and yes, even someone who calls him out when he’s maybe a little too far gone. And if it was anybody else, he would have destroyed them, killed them with his bare hands. But it’s Kirishima, so he doesn’t mind too much. Kirishima, who wasn’t scared of him from the moment they met. Kirishima, who practically has the sun shining out his ass. Kirishima, whose compliments don’t end in “if only his attitude was just a little better…”
And so Katsuki is put in the awkward position of having to actively get to know someone. Deku he had learned solely because the idiot never shut up, and the rest…well, he had to. For research. He needed to learn their strengths, their weaknesses, just in case he needed to use them one day. But this is different. And the weirdest part is that he cares. He wants to know what Kirishima’s favorite food is (meat, by the way – any meat, but he likes beef the best). He wants to know what Kirishima does in his free time (he goes to the gym, if anybody is interested – but he’s not immune to sitting on the couch playing video games for five hours). Hell, he wants to know what Kirishima’s favorite subject in school is (he tells everybody it’s battle training, but he told Katsuki in confidence that it’s actually English, because he’s a sucker for Shakespeare).
And Katsuki is learning new things every single day. Who knew that Kirishima had a dog when he was growing up? Isn’t it fascinating that he loves the winter and hates the summer? Who would have thought that he preferred Coke products to Pepsi?
(Okay. Everybody prefers Coke to Pepsi. But still. It’s Kirishima’s preference, too.)
And it is through this intricate learning experience that it comes out that Katsuki has never eaten McDonald’s in his life.
“Wait, Bakubro, you’ve never had McDonald’s?” Dunce Face asks him, eyes wide. They’re sitting in the courtyard because it’s the first nice day they’ve had after a particularly rough winter, and Pinky demanded they did. Not that Bakugo really minded – he was partial to a nice fucking breeze.
He clicks his tongue. “Who cares? It’s just garbage.” He picks angrily at a blade of grass.
“Come on, it’s a childhood staple!” Tape Arms exclaims. “What, your mom never got too lazy to make a meal, so you got McDonald’s instead?”
“What the fuck did I just say? I’ve never fucking had it.” God, these fucking extras never listen.
Kirishima laughs. “I think it’s time to introduce you to the world of fast food, bro.” He pats Katsuki on the back, then stands up and brushes his hands on his pants. He looks down at the group expectantly. “Well?”
“What, now?” Raccoon Eyes sounds excited. “Hell yes!” Kirishima helps her up.
And Bakugo wants to say no. God, he wants to say no, because spending more time with these idiots sounds painful, but spending time with them in public sounds excruciating. But he has recently learned that Kirishima is partial to an afternoon snack, and maybe he can get another good training session out of his friend yet if he’s well fueled.
“Fucking fine.” He stands up and the rest of the group cheers. He just rolls his eyes and leads the way out the gates of UA, because even if he’s never been to a McDonald’s in his life, nor does he know where one would even be, he will be damned if he’s caught trailing behind these idiots. He grabs his phone and searches for the nearest location. It’s within walking distance.
Kirishima comes up on his left side and nudges his shoulder. “Come on, lighten up. It’ll be fun.” Bakugo clicks his teeth again, but says nothing else. “Alright, let me explain to you the magic of the dollar menu. You can get twenty chicken nuggets for one hundred yen…”
---
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T GET TWENTY FUCKING NUGGETS FOR ONE HUNDRED YEN?” Katsuki slams his hands on the counter; the girl behind it winces. “I WAS TOLD I COULD GET TWENTY FUCKING NUGGETS FOR ONE HUNDRED FUCKING YEN-”
“Bakugo, relax, man!” He can feel a hand on his chest and he looks down. The red haze that has been clouding his vision is slowly fading as Kirishima takes over the order. “Sorry about him!” Bakugo steps back, only because if he doesn’t, he’s going to blow this place to smithereens. Kirishima gives her a warm smile and rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, the twenty piece McNuggets are fine…” He looks back at Bakugo. Bakugo crosses his arms and huffs.
“And fries, I guess.”
“Yeah, two large fries. I’ll get two – no, three Big Macs. And two Cokes, please!” The girl rings him out and hands him his receipt. He steps back so his friends can order, then smirks at Katsuki.
“Dude, what the hell?”
Katsuki shrugs. “You told me that they were only one hundred fucking yen.” But he’s not in the business of owing anybody money, so he shoves a wad of cash into his friend’s hands.
“Woah, Bakugo, this is too mu-”
“Just fucking take it and don’t complain,” he grumbles. Kirishima shrugs and pockets the money as they wait.
When they get their food, the group finds a table outside (again at Pinky’s behest) and sit. They all stare at him.
“What the fuck are you extras looking at?” Katsuki growls.
“Well? Do you like it?” Pikachu looks at him hopefully.
“I haven’t fucking tried it yet, have I, Dunce Face?” He rips open the box and grabs a chicken nugget. It seems as if these idiots are holding their breath. “You’re all idiots,” he mutters before dipping the nugget in ketchup.
Pikachu tuts and leans forward expectantly. “You’ve gotta try the barbecue sauce fi-”
“Denki, no.” Pinky puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back. She made the right decision.
“Fuck off, Pikachu.” He shoves the chicken nugget in his mouth and is almost immediately transported to heaven. Holy fuck, this shit is good. He’s almost mad at the old hag for never letting him have this, but the food is too damn good. He swallows.
“Well?” Kirishima’s eyes are wide with excitement.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s fine.” He looks down and feels his mouth watering. Luckily, everybody else has started eating their food, so he doesn’t feel so alone.
Dunce Face looks like he’s ten seconds away from orgasm. The pink one is talking to Soy Sauce Face about something she didn’t understand in arithmetic. Kirishima keeps sneaking peeks over at Bakugo, who stares back at him. “It’s good, okay? Really good,” he mutters so only Shitty Hair can hear. Shitty Hair’s face lights up and he goes back to eating.
“I knew even you would like it,” he murmurs back and Katsuki feels something foreign in his chest stir. He just rolls his eyes and turns back to the food, choosing to ignore the feeling in his chest.
After all, there’s no need to ponder feelings that you’ve never had before.
---
As the weeks roll by, Katsuki finds himself feeling that stupid feeling in his chest more frequently. It’s like his heart moves a little quicker when he sees Kirishima, or his blood moves a little further south when they’re changing together in the locker room. It’s weird, because he knows lust when he feels it (he’s not a robot, he’s a fucking teenager), but it’s never been directed at a friend. But fuck, as time rolls forward, Kirishima just looks better and better.
The realization that he finds Kirishima hot does not come without consequences. He’s sparring against Sonic one day – an extra he’s easily beaten a hundred times – when he sees Kirishima take off his shirt. It’s completely innocuous, probably because he’s too hot or some shit after sparring against Round Face, but Katsuki spends just a second too long staring at his friend’s naked torso, and Sonic gets a damn good hit in. Even he seems surprised by it, like it never occurred to him that he could hit the best fucking fighter in their class. Katsuki is sent flying backwards, his back hitting the wall with a sickening crack. He’s embarrassed, which immediately turns to anger, and he practically (okay, literally) blows the gym’s wall completely open. Aizawa just shakes his head.
“Really, Bakugo? Again?”
Then there’s the time in the locker room a week later when Kirishima has just stepped out of the shower. “Hey, Bakugo! Wanna go get dinner? I’m starving.”
Katsuki has just finished changing when he looks up and sees his friend. And it’s those fucking abs again, but his towel is slipping a little, so he can see the V between his hips, and his hair is soaking wet and reaches his fucking shoulders, and a couple of drops of water are dripping tantalizingly down his neck-
Bakugo’s eyes dilate, because what the hell else can they do? And his breath hitches, because dear god, everything about what he’s seeing right now is kind of, sort of, really fucking turning him on. And he’s got half a mind to yell at Kirishima, to ask him who the hell gave him the right to look so goddamn good-
When explosions shoot off in his hands. He’s surprised, because he’s always had damn good control over his quirk. Even when he was five and first discovered it, he had never once in his life let off an explosion that he didn’t mean to. His hands clap down to his side and his cheeks flush.
“Kacchan, are you okay?” Deku’s eyes are wide with worry, because he’s all too familiar with the fact that Katsuki never lost control – his explosions are timed perfectly every single fucking time.
“Fuck off, Deku,” he growls before slamming his locker. Most of the occupants of the locker room have turned to look at him now, expressions ranging from concerned (Ojiro) to annoyed (Tokoyami) to amused (Todoroki). “Whatever.” He can hear Kirishima calling out his name and the concern in his voice pisses Bakugo off. “Fuck off, Shitty Hair.” He slams the door behind him, leaving the boys behind him.
Arguably the most embarrassing is when he and Kirishima are alone. The two are hiking, because it’s almost summer and it’s too hot to do anything but walk under the canopy of trees. Kirishima is talking about something – something stupid, probably – and Katsuki can barely hear him because he’s far too busy staring at him. And it’s because he’s trying to figure out how to listen and walk at the same time while also not looking like an idiot that he walks directly into a fucking tree.
He smashes into it face first and he’s certain he looks like a cartoon character with the way his arms are thrown forward. Kirishima stops dead in his tracks and turns around, eyes wide and concerned. Katsuki can feel little pieces of bark and leaves littering his hair as the tree shakes with the sheer force of the impact. Holy fuck, did that really just happen?
Bakugo. Katsuki. Is. Not. A. Klutz.
He is precise. He is accurate. He’s a fucking machine. His quirk is dangerous, and powerful, and terrifying. Which is why he’s always needed to be careful. And he’s perfect at it. Everything he does is perfect, it’s calculated.
And then he’s taking a hike with his fucking friend, and he walks into a fucking tree.
What the fuck?
He growls as he peels himself away, his face burning with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“Bakugo…” Kirishima seems lost for words. “Are you okay?”
“Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair,” he says, his voice dangerously quiet. “If you mention this to anybody, I swear to fucking god, I will kill you with my bare fucking hands.”
Kirishima puts his hands up. “I won’t tell a soul. But Bakugo…” The two stare at each other for a second. The only sound is the wind whistling through the trees and the blood rushing in Katsuki’s ears.
And Kirishima laughs.
He puts his hands on his stomach and laughs louder than he ever has; so hard that he has to wipe tears from his eyes. He has to lean against the fucking tree to keep himself from falling over, one hand on the bark, one hand on his knee. “Oh my god, Bakugo, I’m so sorry-” he chokes out through his laughter, “-but that was…so funny-”
And if it were anybody else, they would have been the deadest person on earth. Seriously, thrown-off-the-side-of-the-mountain, nobody-would-find-the-ashes-of-the-body type dead. But it was Kirishima, who had gotten to know him better than anyone. So instead of committing a crime, he almost, almost, cracks a smile.
Yeah. Maybe not so embarrassing after all.
---
When Katsuki gets back to his dorm later that night, he’s about 20% less angry than usual. He lays down in bed and stares up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. After what happened on their hike, he has to admit that this no longer seems like a “friend who thinks his friend is hot” thing. But it’s hard to tell, because he’s never experienced anything more than hatred for another person. So he sits up and pulls out his phone.
After a couple hours of research, he learns two things.
One, if you don’t know exactly what you’re searching for, you’re not going to find anything but a lot of porn.
And two, he’s possibly, probably, definitely in love with his best friend.
---
A few weeks have passed since his realization. He spent the first few days angry, because he’s always angry, but also because he never expected anybody to make him feel, well, anything.
But time passes, and Katsuki settles into it. Because what the hell else is he going to do? Ignore it? He’s not IcyHot. He can acknowledge what he’s feeling, even if it’s a fucking stupid emotion.
And of course, it’s Kirishima. It’s not surprising that he’s the one who Katsuki falls in love with, because he’s literally got the sun shining out of his ass, and he doesn’t care that Katsuki’s…particular. And he’s even impressed that his friend isn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit.
So it’s not that weird when Kirishima is able to convince him that a movie night might actually be fun. And it’s not that weird when he pushes Pikachu out of the way to sit next to Kirishima. And when he’s finished the last of the popcorn (much to Dunce Face’s chagrin), it’s not that weird that he wants a drink.
He stands up and pauses the movie. “I’m getting some fucking soda. Shitty Hair, do you want anything?”
Raccoon Eyes raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. Kirishima’s eyes go wide. “I-I don’t kn-” he stutters.
“Never mind, I know what you want.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and stalks off to the kitchen.
“Hey, Bakubro, can you get me-”
“Shut the fuck up and get it yourself, Pikachu.”