Chapter Text
Bakugou Katsuki didn't do crushes.
Never had, in fact. When everybody in middle school started talking about all that junk, Bakugou just kind of tuned it out. He didn't want to hear about how the girl's skirts made their legs look good, or about how certain boy's growth spurts had made them more attractive. It was all just stupid. Bakugou had better things to do, so when crush talk came up, he just scoffed and stormed off.
His general feelings on the subject stayed throughout his first year at UA. At one point he actually thought he might be asexual, according to what he'd heard Mina talk about in the common room. But after looking more into it, he decided everyone around him was just stupid. It wasn't like he didn't have the capacity- everyone in Class 1A just wasn't crush material. Or anyone in UA, period.
If you asked Bakugou whether or not he found any of his classmates attractive, he'd snort and say,
"Those assholes? They couldn't be hot if they were shot into the fucking sun." You know, cause he's nice like that.
His opinion on the subject, however, one day drastically changed.
It was a warm Tuesday in April. Class 1A (now technically 2A, but the media had a firm grip on that old nickname for the group) was heading to the changing rooms to get ready for that afternoon's training session. Bakugou placed his hands behind his head, trying to get a jump start on stretching out his sore muscles. Admittedly, he'd been going a little too hard at training recently. His forearms were covered in bandaids, as were his hands. Small scratches that he was too proud to bandage covered his face and ears. Kirishima had tried to sneak different cartoon bandaids on, and was only successful with an All Might one on his left pinkie (he was distracted, okay?).
As the boys entered the changing room, Bakugou rolled his shoulders. 'Fuck' he thought. 'Maybe I should take it easier today? God damnit that hurt'. He winced as he pulled open his locker too roughly, feeling the sharp pain in his right hand.
Chatter filled the locker room as the teens got ready. Kaminari was going off about some new trick shot idea he had, with Iida chiming in every five fucking minutes saying they didn't have time to chat. Bakugou could faintly hear a Pitbull song playing in the background- Sero must have started it. Damnit- Bakugou hated Fireball. Ugh. He turned to Kirishima, who's locker was directly to the right of his, to complain when it happened.
Kirishima still had his pants from his school uniform on, and was slowly changing into his hero costume. That would have been fine except for the way way he pulled off his undershirt. Bakugou had never seen something so alluring in his life. Kirishima crossed his arms near his waist, grabbing the edges of his shirt and pulling them towards his head. And god. Fuck. Bakugou's eyes fell to the muscles of his stomach, the small bruises that he himself had left yesterday. Kirishima slowly- almost painfully, to Bakugou- pulled his shirt over his chest and off of his head. And holy SHIT.
Kirishima's hair had been messed up from his shirt, and Bakugou's brain had stopped working. He was looking at a Greek God of a teenage boy- all his brain could process was the fact that Kirishima had stretch marks around his arms, and he could see his collarbone from here, and there was a slight V shape at the bottom of his torso... Bakugou had seen Kirishima shirtless before, but this... this was almost too much. Bakugou could feel his face heating up as he tried (and failed) to stop staring at his friend.
Oh shit. Bakugou Katsuki was oggling his friend. His best friend. Oh FUCK. OH GOD.
He turned away quickly, too quickly for him to play it off. Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Kirishima was staring at him oddly, tilting his head to the side in the way that meant 'did I do something wrong?'. Oh GOD.
His blush spread to the back of his neck, the tips of his ears. Why, oh why did Bakugou have to be a full body blusher. Wasn't the face enough torture? He could control what people saw of his emotions 99% of the time, but when he was flustered it was game fucking over. He leaned into his locker, pretending to be looking for something. And then it got worse.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Oh FUCKING SHIT.
Bakugou was setting off his quirk. On accident. That hadn't happened since he was 5! What kind of fuckery was happening?! His palms sparked, sounding more like popcorn and less like the deadly explosions he was known so well for.
"Does anyone else hear that?" Bakugou was going to murder Shinso Hitoshi. In cold blood. He darted his eyes to the side to see the mask-clad teen looking around skeptically. "Kind of sounds like raindrops." He held back the urge to roll his eyes. 'Seriously??' He thought, 'raindrops?!'
Midoriya looked up from the bench he was sitting on to tie his shoes. Oh great, now fucking Deku was going to say something. Wait. Wait SHIT HE KNEW WHAT TH-
"It kind of sounds familiar, like I used to hear that a lot." Midoriya looked around the room, eyes finally settling on fucking Bakugou. SHIT.
"Kacchan, are you-" and they locked eyes. Finally, Deku shut up. Unfortunately, for the wrong reason. Bakugou would have loved to say that he intimidated the nerd into submission, but in reality Midoriya caught Bakugou frantically rummaging around his locker, trying to keep his hands busy and out of sight, with a blush as bright as a tomato.
Bakugou would never live this down.
"Nevermind!" Midoriya squeaked, trying (and failing) to hide a giggle. Oh, he's a dead man. But so was Bakugou, because just then Kirishima surprised him.
"You okay, dude? You're not even changed yet- you need help with your belt again or something?" And the root of Bakugou's problems was staring at him in the face, a 6'5" tank of a 16-year-old with a grin to battle a golden retriever's energy. He was already fully changed, apparently having developed super speed alongside with his hardening. His mask was the only piece missing- he held it in his hands as he leaned against his locker. His hair was falling more out of place already. It was... cute. Fuck. FUCK-
Bakugou scoffed, trying to ignore the fact that the blush on his face had just grown two shades brighter.
"I'm fine, Shitty Hair. Just need to wedge my gauntlets out of here." Bakugou knew this was a lame excuse. He never had trouble getting them out before, Kirishima knew that. But nonetheless, the taller teen stepped closer, eager to help.
"Lemme see if I can get them out! I know it can be tricky sometimes." And before he could process what was happening, Kirishima was leaning into his personal space- no. Even worse than that. Kirishima was standing directly behind him, reaching around him to his locker, and putting his hands inside. Both boy's hands touched inside the metal container, and Bakugou.exe had stopped working. Oh god. His hands were so callused, yet somehow soft in all the right places? Totally unlike Bakugou's pointy, sweaty hands.
"Here we go," Kirishima mumbled, mouth right by Bakugou's ear. He should say something. He never let Kirishima get this close. Hell, Kirishima never got this close. So why wasn't he responding? Why couldn't he open his mouth and blurt out a curse word?
"Classmates, we have less than 5 minutes before we need to exit the locker room!" Bakugou was going to murder Tenya Iida in cold blood. Kirishima startled behind him from the noise, bumping closer into Bakugou.
"Sorry, man! Ha ha!" He stepped backwards to Bakugou's right again, having successfully wedged the gauntlets looser. "All good now?" And as Bakugou looked over to Kirishima, he knew that he was anything but.
Because he.
He was so beautiful.
He was everything. He was an angel, and he was a statue of what a man should be, and he was a teenage boy with acne on his nose under florescent lighting and he was the most beautiful thing Bakugou Katsuki had ever and would ever see. He was jagged and whole and a patchwork of new beginnings and late nights and too long touches. He was a symphony, a stained-glass painting, the most astounding collection of happiness. And Bakugou. Bakugou had fallen into it, head first. And hadn't even realized it until now.
This was all too much for a Tuesday afternoon.
This was all too much for a 16 year old boy with anger issues.
This was all too much, and yet
not enough.
Bakugou heard his heartbeat in his ears, felt his knees get weaker. But he could have never anticipated what happened next.
Pop, pop, pop!
Huh. He didn't know he could do that.
And yet, here Bakugou was. Creating miniscule explosions across his face. Ranging all the way across his cheeks and over his nose. The sound was unmistakable, as were the small sparks that he could see out of the corner of his eyes.
Needless to day, he had never been so flustered in his life.
Kirishima stared back, eyes trained on Bakugou's cheeks. He glanced up to his eyes, locking on with a look of pure energy.
"Are you... are you embarrassed right now? Oh my god- is this what you do when you're embarrassed?" Kirishima was damn lucky that almost everyone had filed out of the classroom. Only Satou remained, and he booked it as soon as Kirishima finished his sentence. "That is-" and Bakugou was ready to be met with the worst mockery of his life.
"the cutest thing I've ever seen."
Oh, shit.
He looked up, having bowed his head to try and stop the massacre happening on his pores, and locked eyes yet again with Kirishima. He was grinning widely, eyes ablaze. Huh?
"Wait, what?" Bakugou asked, confused.
"That's adorable, man! Oh my god- what's got you all worked up?" And Kirishima didn't know. Wow. Okay. Wow. Bakugou stared at a very interesting dent in the side of the lockers, avoiding his gaze.
"Nothing, asshole. I just gotta get dressed or whatever the fuck." Kirishima laughed at that, finally placing his mask over his head and securing the chin strap.
"Huh, if I hadn't known better I would say that I was the one that got you all blushy, ha." And Kirishima looked back when he said that, and he couldn't have missed how the explosions on the poor boy's face grew even faster, even louder until it sounded like someone was frying an egg on the bridge of his nose. "But that would be crazy, wouldn't it-" He stepped towards Bakugou once more, feeling a new confidence after seeing what he previous words could do.
"Huh, Pop Rocks?" And just for shits and giggles, he winked. And FUCK.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY- YOU KNOW I'LL KILL YOU, RIGHT?" Thank god he could actually talk again, however many more explosions had popped up on his forehead.
Kirishima ran out of the locker room, but not without calling back,
"You know Pop Rocks are my favorite candy, right?"
...
Aizawa was later informed that 1/3 of the boy's lockers needed replacements after that day.