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Bakugou had made up his mind.
He was going to confess to Kirishima.
He was tired of beating around the bush. He knew he liked Kirishima, and was about 85% sure the redhead felt the same way about him. As someone who refused to let his nerves get the best of him, Bakugou had planned out the entire thing. It didn’t matter that his hands shook when he wrote down their itinerary, or his voice shook when he asked Kirishima to go out with him on their day off (“of course, man! You didn’t even have to ask! I’d go anywhere with you).
He was going to do this even if it killed him.
And it was going to be the best damn date Kirishima had ever been on.
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“Uh, sorry bro. I think I caught a cold or something. Rain check?” Bakugou stood in the doorway to Kirishima’s room, looking at the redhead who stood in front of him, hands pressed together in a symbol of apology. The blood rushing to his ears prevented him from hearing the rest of Kirishima’s apology as he turned and walked down the hallway. Kirishima called after him, confusion and coughing worming their way into his words. He couldn’t understand why Bakugou was storming away from him, muttering angrily to himself.
But Bakugou needed some time to cool off.
It wasn’t like Kirishima getting sick was the end of the world. They could always reschedule. It wasn’t that big of a deal.
At least, that’s what Bakugou tried to tell himself.
But in reality, Bakugou was meticulous. When his plans get messed up, even slightly, it always threw him off. He knew he could confess to Kirishima next weekend or something, but he had his mind so set on today that it wasn’t possible for him to hold it in.
He had to tell him, no matter what. He could feel explosions building up inside of him, and didn’t want to be there to find out what would happen once the pressure was too much.
“Hey Bakugou, aren’t you going out today? Can you bring back some cough drops? Apparently, there’s a cold going around or something.” Ojiro stops Bakugou midthought, interrupting his inner monologue of despair. He looks up at Ojiro, nodding slightly as the thought begins to compete for space amongst his muddled brain. It only takes a moment before it embeds itself into Bakugou’s imagination, warping the plans he already had.
This just might work for him.
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“Open the door, idiot.” Kirishima groaned from under his covers, recognizing Bakugou’s voice and crawling out of his bed to let him in. It had been a few hours after Bakugou had left him standing in the hallway alone. Kirishima knew better than to bother him when his attitude turned sour. Still, he felt bad for ruining whatever plans Bakugou had in store for them. He knew Bakugou didn’t like change in any form, especially when he went through the effort to plan something for the two of them to do. He didn’t like interruptions.
Kirishima goes to pull open the door, hearing Bakugou’s mumbled complaints through the door, and braces himself for a rant.
“Hey Bakugou, I’m really sorry for gett-”
“Bed. Now. You’re sick.” Standing in front of him was a blushing Bakugou, hands full of convenience store bags. Kirishima watched in slight shock as Bakugou sat the bags on the floor, beginning to unpack the products he had spent his day out purchasing.
“Bakugou?”
“I said get in bed. Why are you still standing there?” Kirishima silently closed the door, getting back into bed as he watches Bakugou sort through different packaging until he finds what he’s looking for.
“Take this.” Bakugou’s gruffness can’t hide the fact that he’s handing Kirishima a water bottle and some medicine, which Kirishima gratefully takes.
“Thanks, man. Wait. Is all this stuff for me?” Kirishima looks around at the various different packages, which Bakugou seems to have sorted by type. There were at least 6 different piles, and each pile had multiple things in it. It made Kirishima’s head spin to think about how much money Bakugou spent on him sometimes.
“You’re the dumbass that got sick when we were supposed to go out. I planned it out and everything.” Bakugou stands by Kirishima’s desk, attempting to find an outlet for the portable water heater he brought with him.
“I know, I know. I really didn’t mean to get sick. I didn’t mean to ruin your plans, Bakugou. Forgive me?” Bakugou looks over his shoulder to see Kirishima’s pleading eyes burrowing their way into him, making him melt before he could stop himself.
“Whatever. We’re here now, so it’s not a big deal. You’re still going to have to make it up to me.”
“Of course, man! Whatever you want!”
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Bakugou was surprisingly good at taking care of sick people. He didn’t have to set alarms to remind him to give Kirishima his medicine, he always had a cool cloth ready for Kirishima’s forehead, and he made sure to keep tissues on hand.
Kirishima was in heaven. His parents worked a lot, so he never really had anyone to take care of him when he was sick.
So watching Bakugou as he mixed honey into the tea he made for Kirishima filled Kirishima with a feeling he had never known. It was softer than love, something that only existed in spaces where someone gave themselves up wholeheartedly. He didn’t really know how to explain it if someone had asked him. But if someone had asked him, he’d say it was the sound of the spoon clinking against the mug Bakugou was bringing over to him. He took the mug gently, sitting up slightly to make sure he didn’t spill it.
“This smells really good. Thank you for all this Bakugou.” Kirishima takes a sip of the tea, sighing with pleasure after he swallowed. It was the perfect temperature, warming him up from the inside without burning his tongue.
“I couldn’t just leave you to your own devices. You can barely take care of yourself. Plus, you ran out of cold medicine the last time you got sick, and I know you didn’t buy anymore.” Bakugou takes the empty mug from Kirishima, sitting it back on Kirishima’s desk.
“I forgot, okay? But you brought me so much that I’ll be good for the next few months.”
“I’m taking the excess with me.”
“But Bakugou! You have SO much! Save some for the needy!” Kirishima flops back onto the bed, hitting his head on the wall. He groaned, rolling around in pain and covering the back of his head with his hands.
Bakugou wanted to stop smiling. He really did. He wanted to refuse to allow the laughter building in his chest passage into the air.
But Kirishima had a certain quality that made him drop his guard much too easily. He hated it.
But he loved it at the same time. It felt safe; Kirishima’s presence warm and solid, a welcome change to the cold that Bakugou was used to filling with his explosiveness. With Kirishima, he didn’t have to blow up.
Because Kirishima was warm enough for the both of them.
“Hey, Kir?” Bakugou’s attempt to get Kirishima’s attention, and Bakugou turns to see Kirishima tangled up in his blankets, drifting off to sleep.
Bakugou feels himself losing his nerve, but he decides to strike while the iron is hot. If he can’t confess while Kirishima is asleep, then how would he do it while he was awake?
Bakugou sits on the edge of the bed, mushing his fingers into Kirishima’s hair. The contact grounds Bakugou, while making Kirishima smile in his sleep.
“Look, idiot. I like you. Like a lot. Like, like you like you. Like, ugh, like I’m in love with you, or whatever. Like, want to do couple shit with you, in love. This sounds so shit, but I don’t care because you’re asleep and won’t remember it. God, I sound like a fucking loser.” Bakugou removes his hand from Kirishima’s hair, rubbing his temples instead. He would definitely have to work on his delivery, because that was embarrassing.
“Love you too, Katsuki.” The sleepy mumbles freeze Bakugou, and he turns to Kirishima, whose face is pushed into the pillows. This turns out to be a mistake, as he starts to wheeze in his sleep. Bakugou flips him over, the movement stirring Kirishima enough to momentarily wake him.
“What the hell did you just say to me?”
“I...said something?” Kirishima’s eyes fluttered, and Bakugou prayed that he hadn’t dreamt Kirishima confessing back to him because he looked so pretty right now that Bakugou was going crazy-
“Go back to what you were just doing. Maybe that will help me remember.” Kirishima flips back over, making sure to turn his head so he can breathe. Bakugou looks at him for a while before nervously working his fingers back into Kirishima’s hair. Kirishima sighs happily, starting to drift back off to sleep.
“Oi. Don’t fall asleep on me again. Tell me what the fuck you said.” Bakugou removes his hands, amidst protests from Kirishima. All Kirishima gets is a flick to the forehead in response.
“Ow! C’mon man, I’m already sick.”
“I was trying to kickstart that slow ass brain of yours into thinking.”
“Now you’ve hurt my forehead and my feelings. Not cool, Bakugou.”
“Just tell me what you said.” Kirishima pouts, trying to draw out the memory from behind the fog in his brain. It takes him a few minutes, but once he remembers, his face lights up.
“I remember.” Kirishima sits up in excitement, almost flipping the blankets off of the bed.
“What was it?”
“I was having a dream where I had a dog named after you! It was a little pomeranian. It was such an awesome dog. I really loved it.” Kirishima beamed at Bakugou, almost losing his resolve as he watched Bakugou’s face drop.
“Oh. Okay.” Bakugou’s voice reeked with disappointment, but there was a small sense of relief. At least Kirishima didn’t hear his terrible attempt at a confession.
At least, that’s what Bakugou thought. Until he heard snickers coming from behind him, and spun around to see Kirishima with tears of laughter in his eyes.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?”
“You really fell for that? ‘Oh yeah, I was dreaming about some dog and I told it I loved it.’ Really?” Kirishima buckled at the pink tinging Bakugou’s cheeks, laughter turning into coughs all too quickly.
“This is what you get.” That didn’t stop Bakugou from getting up and grabbing Kirishima a bottle of water, holding it for him as Kirishima drank.
“Your confession was terrible, by the way.” Bakugou squeezes the water bottle, laughing at the way Kirishima sputters in response.
“You deserved that too.” Bakugou twists the top back onto the bottle, sitting it on the floor by the bed in case they needed it again.
“Did you mean it?” Kirishima’s voice didn’t have its usual confidence, and that scared Bakugou. He knew that Kirishima had some self confidence issues, but he hadn’t prepared himself for having to soothe Kirishima’s woes.
“I- fuck Kir. Yes, I meant it. Why the hell is this so hard?” Bakugou felt his face heating up, and threw himself into the pillow next to Kirishima. Giggles accompanied his response as Kirishima laid next to him, turning his face so they were facing each other.
“Well, Bakugou Katsuki, I would very much like to do couple things with you as well, if you’ll have me.”
Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of metal clinking on ceramic.