Work Text:
They were friends.
That wasn’t new, for any of class 2A students. For any of UA student even. Kirishima approached Bakugo, some even say that he tamed him.
Friendly.
Bakugou showed a friendly side of him to the redhead. They had gone to hike, they studied together, they were affectionate with each other.
Bakugou cared about Kirishima, he cared deeply. And it was enough for Kirishima.
It didn’t matter if Kirishima had feelings for Bakugou. It didn’t matter if it kept him awake at the darkest hours of the night. Kirishima respected too much his best friend to over step his boundaries, no matter how much it affected himself.
Bakugou had gone a long way, reaching for comfort when nightmares were being too much. He had gone a long way, calling Kirishima a friend, letting him lay an arm on his shoulders, rest his head onto his lap and cry his insecurities out onto his chest.
Kirishima would always be the hand reaching for him.
He was, back at Kamino, and he’ll be, anytime.
That’s probably why he still was, even when the love of his life asked him about romantic feelings.
Romantic feelings toward an other.
Kirishima always thought Bakugou had no interest in relationship. Too disturbing for his goal, too much of a time loss.
Yet, he turned to the redhead, cheeks red and hand fidgeting: "I think I’m gay. Not that this shit matters, I’m gay for someone or whatever."
Kirishima couldn’t hold back the shiver of hope that ran up his spin. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth so he simply nodded as a way to tell him to go on.
"Never felt that with anyone, but I don’t know what to do. He wouldn’t ever want my feelings." The blonde’s tone wasn’t even forlorn, he just stated a fact.
"The manliest thing to do would be to confess and face the consequences, dude."
Kirishima surprised himself, not controlling his mouth. He was just hoping his best friend, the person he was genuinely in love with, would look into his eye and reciprocate his feelings. So when crimson eyes locked into similar red ones, his breath caught into his throat.
Bakugou’s eyes were conflicted. He seemed in deep thoughts and wasn’t looking like he meant to talk: "So I should confess to Deku.. ?"
Six words, pronounced under his breath, and Kirishima’s world felt like it just came to an abrupt stop. Turned out his best friend just didn’t have interest in him. His stomach was heavy, stone-like, but he couldn’t let his state show. His best friend needed, now that he shown his vulnerability more than ever, the hand Kirishima represented. So Kirishima did the only thing he was capable of think of: he enveloped the blonde in his arms. "You’re strong, smart and handsome. Midoriya is clever, he won’t let you slip."
Not like I did.
Not like I do.
When Bakugou laid his head on his shoulder, giving in the hug, Kirishima had made his decision.
He’ll always be his best friend’s support, no matter how hurtful it could be.
Because it was as much as he could be for him.
And it was alright.
It has to be alright.
So when Kirishima took a deep breath, nose deep into bakugou’s hair, he let for the last time his heart flutter, his smile grow in affection and his mind wander about the touch having the same meaning to Bakugou as it has for him.
The next day, he saw the gaze his best friend thrown in Midoriya’s way. He heard when he asked to talk to him, somewhere else. He had shot thumb up, huge sharp smile in display for Bakugou just before the blonde passed the door, a green haired boy trailing behind him.
And if when Bakugou came back, cheeks red and hand linked with Midoriya’s, he hadn’t looked in Kirishima’s directions it did not matter, he looked content enough to dull Kirishima’s arching heart.