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“Dude. I’m not watching Sinister again. It freaks me out.”
“That’s the whole fucking point of scary movies, dumbass.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. They were never going to pick a movie at this rate.
“What about Rush Hour?”
“You’re going to fall asleep in the first 10 minutes anyway, what do you care what we watch?”
“I will not! C’mon, you know I hate horror movies.” Kirishima whined, giving his best puppy dog eyes to the scowling blond.
“God, fine. How about Pan’s Labyrinth?” It was still creepy while being fantasy, which he knew the redhead loved.
“Deal!” Kirishima beamed, bright enough to force Katsuki to look away. He felt burned in the light that was Kirishima Eijirou. With his sharp ass teeth and blinding personality, sometimes he felt like an asteroid, caught in the redhead’s gravitational pull. He was the Sun, and Bakugou was lost in his radiance, stuck circling in his orbit until he burned up or crashed.
“Earth to Bakubro, do you want popcorn or not?” Kirishima’s big ass red eyes were watching him, not that it was anything new - the dude always seemed to be. His eyes were always fixed on Katsuki - in class, during training, and especially on nights like these, where they balanced precariously the line between friends and something more. It made Bakugou ache, made him want to scream and curse and push the redhead away and out of his own room, out of his life. He wanted to shake Kirishima and demand a straight answer. What were they? Was there a ‘they’? The emotions swirling around them made Bakugou’s jaw clench and his palms pop with nervous sweat.
“Seriously, man. You good?” Kirishima’s huge ass hand landed on his shoulder and he fought every nerve in his body not to flinch, not to shy away from the warmth as Kirishima leaned closer.
“I’m fine, idiot. Start the fucking movie.” The redhead just laughed as Bakugou shoved him back to his side of the bed. They were positioned in their usual spots, backs against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of the bed, Kirishima’s old ass Toshiba laptop balanced on a textbook in the space between their knees. Katsuki never cared much for picking favorite things, far too busy getting stronger and focusing on becoming number one. Nights like these, well, no one needed to know how much he loved watching dumb movies and cat videos on Kirishima’s shitty laptop, only the dim screen to light up their faces, how close the redhead’s hands rested to his, how deeply he loved him. He loved him. He, Bakugou fucking Katsuki, was in love with Kirishima Eijirou, sunshine incarnate. Middle school Bakugou would’ve kicked his own ass into the dirt by now, but he’d grown since then, accepted emotions and feelings not as weaknesses but strengths.
“Are you bored? You’re not even watching, bro. I’m sorry, we can watch Sinister if you want-”
“Why haven’t you kissed me?”
They stared at each other, unblinking, for several seconds before Bakugou processed what he just fucking said, out loud, to his crush, the actual love of his life. Frantically, he threw Kirishima’s heavy blankets off, desperate to escape this bed, this situation, this fucking prefecture. He was going to have to change his name, move to America-
“Bakugou, wait! Bak- KATSUKI!” Kirishima’s voice cracking on his given name was enough to make his hand freeze around the doorknob, pausing in favor of turning his head to meet the redhead’s bright eyes, which were filled with unshed tears. He was halfway off the bed, his foot tangled in the blankets that Bakugou had launched off himself in his bid to escape. The blond’s heart raced in his throat, forcing every breath out like a gasp. He was sinking, slipping under the sheer panic of his confession. Fuck, not even a confession, he’d fucked it all up, that’s not how he wanted this to happen, if it ever DID happen.
“Kat, please.” Kirishima had freed his foot, but remained standing next to his bed, treating the blond like a cornered animal. His hand was outstretched toward him - an offering, but if Katsuki was being honest, it felt like a demand. He released the doorknob, turning to face the redhead fully.
“Do- Did, um. I don’t-” Kirishima fumbled, his tanned face bright red.
Oh God, it was even worse than he’d imagined.
“Save it, Shitty Hair, I don’t know why I said that. Just... leave it.” He really tried to keep his voice from shaking, but failed, miserably. Kirishima took a step toward the blond, his mouth still open, trying to form words. Bakugou turned away, his eyes staring daggers at one of Kirishima’s stupid Crimson Riot posters.
“I’m sorry. I’m just scared, B- Katsuki. This scares me.” Bakugou’s pulse skipped in his neck, and he focused on Kirishima’s socks. He had moved closer while he was speaking.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.” He couldn’t raise his voice higher than a whisper, for fear of it cracking with emotion. He was scared too, afraid he’d ruined everything. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut and now he was going to get shut down and lose his best friend. To his surprise, the redhead chuckled.
“You don’t scare me, Kat. You never have. This does,” Kirishima motioned between them. When had he gotten so close? “I’m terrified of stepping over that line, and fucking up, losing you. That there’s no going back.”
Before he knew what he was doing, he had the redhead’s wrist in his sweaty hand. He pulled Kirishima closer, gently, more gentle than he thought he was capable of. Yeah, only Kirishima could make him that soft. He ignored the tremors in his arms and his voice.
“I don’t want to go back. I want this. Whatever it is.” The hand that wasn’t wrapped around the other boy's wrist came up to brush a lock of red hair from his forehead. Bakugou’s hand hovered just shy of his cheek, shaking minutely. Red eyes met crimson, and time slowed to a stop around them. His other hand rose from Kirishima’s wrist to cup his other cheek, his thumb stroking across the boy’s cheekbone lightly. He licked his dry lips, breath shallow.
“Can I-”
“Please.” Kirishima’s soft plea fanned across his lips, and he took the dive. Their lips brushed softly, the smallest hint of pressure. Soft, innocent, timid. All things Bakugou could never be labeled as, wasn’t sure Kirishima could either. Kirishima’s lips were chapped, bitten raw, but they were perfect, better than Katsuki ever dreamed. His hands slid from the redhead’s cheeks, around into his messy hair, pressing the other boy closer. Kirishima hummed into the kiss and brought his hands to wrap around Katsuki’s slim waist.
God, his hands were perfect too. One pressed against the dip in his back while the other lightly gripped his hip, holding him close. Kirishima’s lips parted in a small gasp, and Bakugou licked into his mouth. The redhead groaned, the hand on Katsuki’s hip tightening its grip.
Kissing Kirishima was like being afloat and drowning all at once, he couldn’t breathe, didn’t need to. Just needed more, more, MORE. He was lost at sea, and he never wanted to reach land.
Kirishima pulled away first, chuckling fondly when the blond chased his mouth. They remained, embracing, breathing the same air until the redhead glanced away, his cheeks flushed. Pretty, Bakugou thought belatedly.
“Thanks. Rich coming from you, though.” Oh, he’d said that out loud. Kiss drunk was something he could get used to, already craving Kirishima’s lips back on his. Recapturing the shorter man’s lips, he wound his arms over the redhead’s broad shoulders, fist bunching into the fabric of his shirt. Kirishima’s hands grasped at Katsuki, suddenly desperate as he panted against the blond’s mouth. One of his rough hands tangled in blond hair and Bakugou couldn’t swallow the moan that bled into the feverish kiss. Kirishima gasped and redoubled his efforts, practically crowding Bakugou back towards his bed, hands pulling at the blond’s loose t-shirt. The backs of Bakugou's knees hit the edge of the bed, and he fell, pulling Kirishima with him.