Work Text:
Kirishima was an absolute disaster.
Somehow, the Bakusquad had managed to convince him to confess his feelings to his crush. Normally, Kirishima’s manly, no-regrets attitude would be enough to cover for any nervous jitters he would usually fill. But no, this time the butterflies in his stomach felt a little too much like bees, swarming and stinging his insides until he couldn’t breathe or walk or function at all.
Part of this problem was a matter of who his crush was. Katsuki Bakugou, the explosive boy that set off fireworks in Kirishima’s heart whenever they were close to each other.
Kirishima was lucky enough to be his best friend. Considering what he’d heard from Midoriya, Bakugou wasn’t used to having many real friends. Followers, sure, but no one he genuinely enjoyed the company of, or that cared about him beyond his quirk and intelligence.
At first, Kirishima was intrigued by his quirk, just as everyone else had been. But then, once they started spending more time together, something changed. It wasn’t the instant sort of change. More gradual, but once Kirishima knew it was there, he began seeing it everywhere, even in the memories from before they became friends. The way Bakugou would ensure everyone was safe, even while telling them to die. The way he always seemed to know everyone’s favorite food or colors or whatnot. His personality drew Kirishima in, and once he was completely engulfed, there was no going back.
So, here he was. Standing outside of Bakugou’s dormitory door.
He reviewed the plan in his head, consisting mostly of Mina’s ideas with the occasional input from Sero and modified suggestions from Kaminari.
First, he’d ask Bakugou to go on a walk with them. And then... The plan would be put in action.
Bakugou was fucked. Seriously, utterly fucked.
He’d sworn he would never become dependent on anyone. That was not how his mom raised him to be, that was not how he raised himself to be, and a stupid smiley redhead was not about to change that.
So what if Shitty Hair’s hair actually wasn’t so shitty? So what if Bakugou occasionally thought each smile shot his way was much brighter and more important than any star in the sky—and that included the sun.
Bakugou actually preferred Kirishima’s smaller, more genuine smiles, though he would never admit it to anyone. Those smiles, the ones that Kirishima wasn’t aware he made, the ones filled to the brim with genuine emotion, those were the ones that Bakugou wanted as many of as there were stars in the sky.
But that didn’t matter anyway, because Bakugou did not love Kirishima and did not need him and absolutely, most certainly, definitely did not want to spend the rest of his life with him (if they did, however, their hero agency would be the best one anyone had ever fuckin’ seen).
Speak of the devil (or angel, considering Kirishima being the sunshine incarnate), the redhead knocked on his door.
Bakugou was confused at first. No one ever approached his room other than Kirishima, but after their first few study sessions, Kirishima did much less knocking and much more bursting in unannounced.
“Just come in, Shitty Hair,” he called out, rolling his eyes.
Kirishima opened the door, remaining outside and looking much more troubled than usual. He was smiling, but even the emotionally repressed Bakugou could tell it was strained.
“What d’you want?”
“Would you, uh, maybe, wanttogoonawalkwithme?”
It wasn’t like Kirishima to he so incoherent. Something was definitely wrong.
“Say that again, louder.”
“Go on a walk with me?”
That was a lot of fuckin’ effort just to ask for a walk. If the fucker weren’t so damn cute, Bakugou would’ve exploded him right then and there.
“Whatever,” Bakugou responded, fully aware that Kirishima understood that to be an affirmation.
Together, they both set off. Silence filled the air around them, the kind that was far from comfortable, the one that sent goosebumps off Bakugou’s spine and sent spiders crawling up his stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was absolutely, horribly wrong.
With each step, Kirishima’s anxiety reached a new high. Tonight was the night that could shatter the most important friendship he’s ever had, and he still wasn’t sure he was ready to take that risk. His middle school self, whom he’d promised to lock away once he started high school, invaded his mind, flooding him with insecurities he’d overcome months ago.
Finally, they made it outside. The fresh air helped, filling his lungs and clearing his thoughts a littie. Perhaps he could convince himself that this was all a dream, that Bakugou would either say yes and the dream would go great or Bakugou would reject him and he would wake back up, safe in bed and ready to train with his best friend.
Kirishima couldn’t read Bakugou’s expression as they approached the picnic he’d set out. In fact, Kirishima didn’t think Bakugou himself had processed it yet.
Kirishima had been all worked up about a picnic? There had to be something else going on. Was this Kirishima’s way of saying, “Sorry, I think you’re an asshole, maybe this food will make you feel better”?
As if he cared. He didn’t need Kirishima anyway.
Bakugou sat down silently, waiting for Kirishima to lead the conversation. Kirishima wrung his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“I made you food,” he said, “I know you’re big on spicy food, and you always make the Bakusquad food, so I thought maybe you’d like this...” He trailed off, as if searching for more words but not finding any.
“It better not suck,” Bakugou responded, cursing himself as he reached for the food. Somewhere between his brain and his mouth, his words got screwed up. Things always sounded so much worse than he wanted them to. Normally, he didn’t care about what he said to extras. But this extra... He was more like a secondary character. Someone who’d made his way into Bakugou’s storyline, someone that Bakugou wasn’t yet ready to drive away.
The food wasn’t good, but he could tell Kirishima tried. The spices were all off, and it took more self control than Bakugou was used to not to cringe at the taste.
Kirishima, on the other hand, was very open about his distaste for the food.
“Okay, okay, bad idea, that sucked. On the upside, Satou and Mina made a cake together and gave me a few slices, so that should be a lot better,” Kirishima chuckled nervously, opening another container to reveal the cake, topped with two fresh strawberries.
“S’whatever,” Bakugou took the cake, even though he wasn’t often one for sweets. For some reason, he felt the need to do everything right in this moment. Almost... almost as if he were afraid of losing Kirishima and his nice smiles and understanding, resilient personality. “I’ll teach you to make food that isn’t shit later, if you can keep up.”
Kirishima didn’t respond, and suddenly, Bakugou’s chest ache. It couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Kirishima didn’t enthusiastically take up his offer, as he usually did with things like studying and training. Has Bakugou done something wrong?
Bakugou finished the cake, which was admittedly really good.
Finally, Kirishima ripped off the bandaid.
“Bakubro, I gotta tell you something.”
“If you wanted to drop me as a friend, you could’ve just said that from the start.”
“What?!” Kirishima shook his head rapidly. “No, no, that is absolutely not what this is about. Bakugou, this is me asking you out. Like, in a more-than-bros, I-really-like-you, let-me-take-you-on-just-one-date-please kind of way.”
That was what Kirishima had been worried about the whole time? What fucking bullshit.
Wait, what?
How was Bakugou supposed to respond?
He didn’t like Kirishima in that way, right? So why was he so quick to think, yes, Hair-for-Brains, I’ll go out with you.
Wait, was that what the feeling in his stomach was? Did he... He liked Kirishima. Shit.
Kirishima had already begun rambling about how it was totally fine if Bakugou rejected and he still wanted to be friends but would totally understand if Bakugou felt too awkward that way.
“Shut up, will you? I... I’m still new to this feelings shit, but... I want to try it, with you. And we’re going to win this feelings thing.”
Honestly, the look on Kirishima’s face was worth it, and more than enough to clear away the dangerous spiders that had been lurking in Bakugou’s stomach.