Work Text:
bakugou’s extras (2:12am)
rock hard: [A picture of All Might’s face grinned up from his phone as he busted through a door, tagged with his catchphrase, “I am here!” Across the top was a caption reading, “When your barcode friend texts ‘i love you so much’ in the middle of the night.’” ]
rock hard: lmao u @ me
[several people are typing…]
Eijirou knew he’d fucked up almost the second he’d sent the message.
In hindsight, he should have double checked who he was sending it to. He should have remembered that he’d been texting Ashido, but that his Snapchat messages were still open to the group chat. He should have paused for one extra second.
But instead he’d moved on autopilot, not checking until after the picture was sent, and now—
bakugou’s extras (2:13am)
dropping acid: LMAO but also
dropping acid: heyyy bestie did you mean to send that to everyone?
pikashit: barcode friend?
serotonin: i feel like that definitely wasnt supposed to go to all of us
serotonin: u okay kirishima?
pikashit: update i looked up barcode friend on urban dictionary and uh
pikashit: concern
freeze ur brain: well it looks like im not sleeping tonight
serotonin: you dont sleep anyway shinsou
freeze ur brain: yea but now im really not gonna be able to
dropping acid: guys dont
dropping acid: but hey kiri can you text me back plsthx
Eijirou covered his face with his pillow. “Fuck,” he hissed. His phone at his side continued to buzz with notifications.
It was supposed to go to Ashido.
Ashido, who had been his best friend since they were ten, who had been there during every depressive episode and received many a concerning midnight text. Ashido, who had held his hand at his first ever therapy session and visited him in the hospital. He remembered their last year of middle school, when she had run barefoot to the playground halfway between their houses for him. She’d snuck cupcakes into the dorms to celebrate six months clean, and she’d hugged him two months later when he’d relapsed.
But not to the entire friend group who had no idea about any of his baggage.
And especially not to Bakugou.
His phone buzzed again, before the sound of Watermelon Sugar burst from the speaker. Eijirou groaned, reaching blindly to decline the call. He knew it was stupid, that Ashido would only worry, but frankly he was embarrassed and a little scared and he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.
Besides, he was fine. There was nothing to worry about.
He’d talk to Ashido later, when his heart stopped feeling like it was trying to pound out of his chest.
He was fine.
It wasn’t like he’d been avoiding his bathroom for two days, exclusively using the common room bathroom or going in between classes. It wasn’t like the only times he’d showered had been in the locker room after training. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shaved in two days because he didn’t trust himself with the razor. It wasn’t like he’d avoided the kitchen full of knives and scissors and scalding water for just as long. It wasn’t like he’d activated his quirk on his hand and held it to the skin of his thigh for an hour as he tried to calm himself down earlier that night.
Not at all. Because he was fine.
Kaminari > Kirishima (2:24am)
kamibro: hey bro idw pry or anything but u can talk to me if u need to
kamibro: or not ! thats chill too
kamibro: but maybe let mina know ur ok bc shes kinda panicking i think
Sero > Kirishima (2:24am)
serowo: yo i hope youre okay man
serowo: idk if that meme meant what it looked like, but if you ever wanna talk about it you know where to find me
serowo: or i can offer video games and weed if youd rather lol
serowo: just let someone know youre okay please
Ashido > Kirishima (2:26am)
acid bitch: KIRISHIMA EIJIROU YOU DID NOT JUST IGNORE MY CALL
acid bitch: sorry im a little worried
acid bitch: just let me know if you need me okay? im still in jirou’s room with the girls but i can leave if you need me
Shinsou > Kirishima (2:28am)
shinsoussy: [A screencap from It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia . Danny Devito is holding an egg. It’’s captioned “Can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time?” ]
shinsoussy: hey you dont have to talk about it
shinsoussy: but like let me know if you want memes or smth
shinsoussy: ill cover for u if you need to steal mina, tell the girls im the one who needs her for smth
Eijirou hated that his eyes welled up with tears. He hated that his wrists had been itching for hours. He hated that he’d sent that stupid meme to Ashido as a sign that he needed help, and that she’d responded accordingly and he was just… ignoring her. He hated that all his other friends were worried too, now, even though he’d never wanted them to even find out.
He didn’t deserve a friend like Ashido. He didn’t deserve any of his friends, because they were good and kind and smart and powerful and he was nothing and—
He stopped himself before he could continue down that road.
Eijirou was decidedly not fine.
The one small miracle was that it was far too late for Bakugou to be awake. It wasn’t that Eijirou thought Bakugou wouldn’t care, or that he would hate him or anything. The guy was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t cruel . Eijirou was fully aware that Bakugou cared, even though he acted like he didn’t.
If anything, Eijirou was worried that Bakugou would care too much. That he would treat him differently, like he was fragile. It wasn’t manly to hurt yourself, after all, much less think about dying as often as Eijirou was reluctant to admit he did. He didn’t think he could take it if Bakugou, the manliest person Eijirou knew, thought that he was weak.
But it was two in the morning. Bakugou had been asleep for hours. There was nothing to worry about.
Eijirou’s thighs started to itch just like his wrists, and he pressed the pillow against his face a little harder.
bakugou’s extras (2:39am)
King Explosion Murder: Why the fuck are you idiots blowing up my fucking phone?
dropping acid: fuck sorry bakubabe
dropping acid: uhm
serotonin: hey bakugou, can you hear anything in kirishima’s room?
serotonin: he’s not answering and its freaking mina out
pikashit: sero says like he isnt two seconds away from going to check himself lol
pikashit: dw same tho
King Explosion Murder: I can’t hear anything
King Explosion Murder: What the fuck is going on?
King Explosion Murder: Is Shitty Hair okay?
pikashit: scroll up
King Explosion Murder: What the fuck
Eijirou didn’t know when he’d moved from laying on his bed to curled up on the floor beside it. He also didn’t know when he’d scratched at his arms, leaving stinging pink lines from wrist to elbow on both.
He was pretty sure his ears were stuffed with cotton. The LED lights that cast his room in red and yellow seemed to have been dimmed as his vision tunneled. The only thing he could really see where his hands, pale and shaking as they curled around his elbows, but he couldn’t even feel them. He couldn’t feel them even as his quirk activated, fingers hardening and leaving bruises behind.
Distantly, he thought he heard music coming from the direction of his bed, but he couldn’t make out the song.
It was probably Ashido. He’d get up in a minute and let her know he was alright.
Just as soon as he could feel his body again.
Bakugou > Kirishima (3:01am)
kats: What the fuck
kats: Shitty Hair, answer the fucking phone
kats: I’m not joking
kats: Ei
kats: I’m fucking worried about you, dumbass
kats: I swear to fucking God, if you don’t answer the phone in the next five minutes I’m coming over there
Someone was knocking at his door. It started out quiet, so quiet that he didn’t register it at all, but it grew louder and more frantic with every passing second. It still sounded distant, as though Eijirou was underwater, but he knew that was just the fog filling his brain. It was probably loud.
Eijirou should get up an answer it.
He would answer in just a second. He would, definitely. He just needed to let out the breath that he felt like he’d been holding forever and get up.
It was probably Ashido. He felt bad that he’d worried her, worthless friend. It wasn’t fair to her. Plus, at the rate she was going, she would end up waking up Shoji, if she hadn’t already. He hoped she hadn’t. He would feel bad, terrible, disgusting, if she had.
There was a sob, and it took Eijirou too long to realize it had come from his own chest. He curled his fingers more tightly around his elbows, hurts but not enough, can barely even feel it, and pressed his arms closer to his stomach.
His chest felt like an empty cavity, like nothing and everything all at once. He knew if he just kept breathing it would stop, won’t stop until he hurts, but he didn’t think that any air was even entering his lungs. Another sob escaped that he didn’t feel.
The knocking got louder. His phone blasted music again, but he still couldn’t make out the song.
Distantly, Eijirou wondered if you could drown in nothingness, hopefully you can.
Class 1-Gay (3:07am)
sugar baby: anyone else hear that ? it sounds like bakugou
tentacool: yes, he woke me up :(
tentacool: he’s been knocking for like 10 minutes i swear
pinky dinky doo: has kiri not opened the door?
tentacool: definitely doesn’t sound like it, nope
tentacool: is something wrong ashido?
pinky dinky doo: idk
pinky dinky doo: i think itll be okay if bakugou is there tho
sugar baby: let us know if they need anything
sugar baby: bakugou sounds angry and thats just through the floor
tentacool: angry isnt the word i would use
tentacool: worried maybe
phone charger: dw about it guys we got it handled!
phone charger: sry abt the noise tho
tentacool: its not a problem
Katsuki felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest in time with his frantic knocking at Kirishima’s door.
“Open the fucking door, Shitty Hair!” he yelled, slamming his hand against the door. There was a knot of fear working its way from his chest to his throat with every moment that passed without answer.
He continued to pound on the door with one hand, while he called Kirishima again with the other. When the call went to voicemail once again, he cursed loudly. “Fuck it,” he decided. He grabbed the doorknob with his left hand and ignited his quirk, shoving hard at the door with his shoulder as he blasted the lock to pieces. The door opened easily for him, and he hurried into the room, kicking it shut behind him.
Immediately, he went quiet. Because Kirishima was curled in a ball on the floor next to his bed, sobbing and hyperventilating. As he got closer, Katsuki realized that his hands were hardened where they were wrapped around his elbows, and he could see bruises already forming beneath each of his fingers.
He dropped down in front of his friend, and frowned. “Shitty Hair?” he asked, voice so quiet he would have been surprised if he’d heard him. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ei?”
Kirishima stiffened. There was no other indication that he’d heard him.
Fuck.
“Ei, it’s me… It’s Bakugou. Can you hear me? Just nod if you can hear me.”
Kirishima was very still for a long moment, except for the sobs that wracked his entire body. Then, very slowly, he nodded. Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
Sero > Bakugou (3:12am)
tape face: lmk if you need anything
tape face: bc tbh i feel useless as hell rn
sweaty palms: Leave some ice outside Ei’s room
sweaty palms: Or sour candy or something
tape face: fuck is he ok?
sweaty palms: He will be
Eijirou could only barely hear the low rumble of Bakugou’s voice. If he didn’t know better, Eijirou would think that he was rooms away, the sound muffled through walls and doors and barely audible. But he could almost make out the words “nod if you can hear me,” and some small part of him processed his friend’s worried face inches from his own, so he knew that Bakugou was there.
It took several seconds for him to force his muscles to cooperate with him, to drag his head downwards just enough to qualify as a nod.
Bakugou was saying something, but Eijirou couldn’t hope to decipher it, stupid idiot, and he just pressed his fingers into his arms even harder. There was a flash of pain as his Hardened fingers finally broke skin. It was just enough to almost calm the itching in his wrists and thighs for just a moment, though it did nothing to bring him into the present.
Distantly, he recognized the sob that escaped his mouth at the feeling, the sharp hiss of breath from Bakugou as his eyes tracked blood dripping off Eijirou’s elbow and onto the floor. He didn’t try pull Eijirou’s hands away, which he considered a small mercy. His skin was crawling, somehow feeling nothing and too much all at once, and he didn’t know what he would do if Bakugou tried to touch him.
There was a distant knocking sound, almost imperceptible to Eijirou through the static. His brain went fuzzy again, the static in his ears getting thicker. The next time he processed his surroundings, Bakugou was holding something to his lips.
“Open up, Hair For Brains,” Bakugou said. His voice cut through the static just a little once again. It was too quiet for Bakugou, gentle and low and insistent. Eijirou was barely aware of his mouth opening.
He jolted backwards as the taste of lemon sour candy burst on his tongue, knocking his head hard against the mattress behind him. It felt like he’d been dunked into an ice bath while half-asleep. Like the cotton had been removed from his ears and the veil from his eyes.
All at once everything was too much. The LED lights were blinding. His phone was still buzzing every few seconds on the bed, but to his now-sensitive ears, he might as well have turned the volume all the way up. The warm blood dripping down his arm made him want to peel his skin off. Only the dull ache where his arms had bruised wasn’t enough — he wanted, needed, more pain, and didn’t even think about digging his fingers in just a little deeper.
“Fuck, Ei, don’t do that,” Bakugou hissed. Eijirou’s head shot up. They made eye contact, and Eijirou was startled to see the soft, scared look in his friend’s eyes.
Bakugou was only a few inches away from him, hunched forwards with his left hand hovering just above Eijirou’s like he wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea to stop him or not. There was a bag of sour candies clutched in his right hand, the plastic crinkling as Bakugou clenched his fist in a way that was made Eijirou feel like his brain was about to leak out of his skull.
He hunched forwards, trying to cover his ears with his shoulders. Tears filled his eyes, stupid, unmanly tears. “‘S loud,” he muttered. Bakugou frowned, following Eijirou’s gaze to the candy bag. He grimaced, tossing the bag away from him as quickly as he could.
“You back with me?” he asked. His voice was still too quiet. The small part of Eijirou that wasn’t preoccupied with panic was almost disturbed. Eijirou managed a shrug, but that seemed to be enough to make some of the tension leave Bakugou’s shoulders. “Good. Do you want to… talk about it?” The question sounded almost painful for him.
Eijirou shook his head, clenching his fists around his arms. Bakugou hissed out a curse.
“Fucking- Stop that, Ei,” he grunted. “Can I…?”
Eijirou held his breath for a long moment, long enough that his lungs started to burn before he exhaled. Finally, he nodded his head. Bakugou moved slowly, reaching down to carefully wrap one hand around Eijirou’s. He flinched at the feeling of his calloused hands on his skin at first, his quirk rippling from his fingertips to his shoulder.
Bakugou paused until his hands were back to normal, even as he drew more blood, then cautiously pulled his fingers away from his elbow. With one hand, he held Eijirou’s wrists together and moved them away from his body. The other wrapped around Eijirou’s back. He pulled Eijirou into his chest with one movement until his forehead was pressed against his shoulder. “Don’t fucking scare me like that, dumbass,” he said into Eijirou’s hair.
“I’m sorry,” Eijirou mumbled, the words muffled by Bakugou’s shirt.
Bakugou grunted. “Did I ask for a stupid apology?” he asked, even as he gripped the back of Eijirou’s shirt a little tighter. “Fucking Shitty Hair.”
Eijirou closed his eyes and let out a long breath, willing himself to stop shaking. Bakugou’s hand was right over the scars on his wrist. Even though they were old and faded, he knew that the skin was still textured there, rough thick compared to the softer skin of his arms. But if he noticed, the other boy didn’t say anything. Instead, he rubbed circles into Eijirou’s skin with his thumb that shouldn’t have been as comforting as they were.
Eijirou felt himself starting to cry and moved to pull away, but the hand gripping his shirt just pulled him closer. “I’ve got you, idiot,” he grumbled when Eijirou started to protest, which only made him cry in earnest.
bakugou’s extras (3:40am)
King Explosion Murder: He’s okay
King Explosion Murder: We’ll talk tomorrow
dropping acid: thank you bakugou 🥺
pikashit: o thank god i was too worried to sleep lmao
serotonin: did the candy help?
King Explosion Murder: Yeah
King Explosion Murder: Thanks
freeze ur brain: ill prob be up if yall need anything
“I know you don’t want to do this, but they deserve to know,” Ashido pleaded with Eijirou, crossing her arms over her chest. They stood outside of Sero’s room, where the rest of his friends were waiting. He knew the moment he’d sent the stupid meme that he’d have to tell them the truth, but he’d hoped he could have a few days to build a story before then. Instead, Ashido had come into his room only a few minutes after Bakugou had left and half-dragged him upstairs.
“It’s not a big deal, Mina, you know I’m mostly fine now,” he tried. Ashido leveled him with an unimpressed stare.
“You scared them last night, Kiri,” she said.
Eijirou felt his heart sink because yeah, he’d done that, hadn’t he? He couldn’t just grin and joke his way out of this one. Damn it, the consequences of my actions, he thought, biting down on his lower lip. “Fine,” he said finally, closing his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ashido patted him on the shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, then raised her fist to knock on the door. She had barely begun knocking when the door swung open, and Eijirou was met with Kaminari’s wide yellow eyes.
He stared at Eijirou for a second, before dragging him into a hug that was somehow too short and too long all at the same time. “Jesus, bro,” he muttered as he pulled away, eyes scanning Eijirou like he was looking for anything out of place. His eyes lingered on the bandages that Bakugou had wrapped around Eijriou’s elbows the previous night. Eijirou flushed under his gaze and turned towards the rest of the room.
Sero was sitting sideways in his hammock, one long leg tucked underneath him. Shinsou sat on the floor with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. Kaminari’s Switch was sitting on the floor next to Shinsou, on top of the fuzzy blanket that Sero kept in his room for him. And then there was Bakugou, who was sitting on the end of Sero’s bed with his arms crossed. If it weren’t for the weird softness in his eyes, he would have looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
Ashido directed Eijirou to the head of Sero’s bed, amongst his nest of pillows, with one hand on his shoulder. She didn’t sit down in the beanbag Sero had tucked into the corner of his room until he was settled, watching him pointedly. In fact, everyone was watching him with varying levels of obviousness — Sero and Shinsou seemed to be trying to disguise the fact that they were looking, but Ashido, Kaminari, and Bakugou were more than obvious. It made Eijirou want to run back to his dorm and never come back.
“Uh, hi?” Eijirou said finally. He picked up one of Sero’s pillows and hugged it to his chest, a barrier between him and the rest of the room. “I don’t… I don’t know what you guys want me to say.”
“Are you okay?” Kaminari blurted, his eyes wide. Bakugou kicked him the shoulder, glaring, and the other boy yelped.
Trust Kaminari to get right to the point, Eijirou supposed. He shrugged, and managed a lopsided smile. “Most of the time,” he said, hoping they would leave it there. Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, it was Sero who spoke next.
“Right now?”
Eijirou hesitated. He glanced around the room, locking eyes with Bakugou. His friend’s eyebrows were furrowed, and he was staring hard at Eijirou as if daring him to lie. With a sinking feeling, Eijirou realized that he couldn’t quite make himself. “Not really,” he admitted, curling forwards around the pillow just a little.
Someone, probably Kaminari, made a small, wounded sound in the back of their throat.
“‘Not really,’ how?” Ashido asked from her spot in the corner. She was staring at him too, her eyes constantly straying down to his elbows with a slightly betrayed look on her face. He winced.
Better to rip the bandage off, he decided. “Kinda want to hurt myself right now,” he said as casually as he could muster, shrugging like he hadn’t just admitted one of his biggest secrets.
The tension in the room seemed to get thicker. Sero shifted in the hammock, dropping his other foot to the ground and leaning forward like he half-expected Eijirou to pull out a knife right there in the middle of the room. Bakugou’s face seemed to fall just a little, though his glare never left, and he turned his body towards Eijirou’s ever-so-slightly. Kaminari flinched, frowning so hard it looked almost like it hurt.
Only Ashido and Shinsou seemed mostly unaffected by his statement. Shinsou simply nodded his head in a way that somehow conveyed understanding. It made the knot of guilt in Eijirou’s chest loosen just a bit.
After a second’s pause, Ashido reached into the pocket of her hoodie and tossed him a red ballpoint pen which nearly hit Bakugou in the face. It was only thanks to his year and a half of training that Eijirou was able to grab it out of the air before it did. “Thanks, Mina,” he said quietly, cheeks flushing.
Eijirou uncapped the pen and started drawing tiny parallel lines on the side of his thumb. He didn’t look up while he did. “Its not a huge deal,” he said finally, once he’d made seven of the small lines up his hand and the buzzing beneath his skin seemed to settle for a moment. He still didn’t look up at his friends. “Just something I deal with sometimes.”
“Why?” Kaminari asked, his voice small.
“Kami!” Ashido exclaimed, shooting him a glare.
Eijirou winced. He knew the question was coming the moment he’d sent the picture, but it still sucked to hear it out loud. “It’s okay, Mina,” he assured her. He paused for a moment, considering how much he wanted to tell them.
Did he want to get into the group therapy and the hospital? Did he want to explain how he’d sometimes get so sad he couldn’t move, or how sometimes he felt so empty that pain was the only thing that made him feel like a person? Would they even begin to understand that he was addicted to the feeling, the tiny rush of endorphins, the ache that came for days after?
He shrugged again, then sighed. “I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder when I was twelve,” he said finally. “I- It’s a shitty coping mechanism.”
Shinsou hummed in agreement, the only sound he’d made since Eijirou got there. “Let us know,” he says finally. Eijirou’s eyes snapped to him, but he still wasn’t fully looking at him. “It gets hard, I know. But that’s what friends are here for. Or at least, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
Eijirou felt tears welling up in his eyes as his friends nodded. The stupid voice in the back of his head hissed that he doesn’t deserve this, but he forces it away. “I- But it’s a lot,” he said finally, because he knew it was . He’d seen the way Ashido’s face fell when he told her he needed help.
Bakugou sighed heavily, knocking one knee against Eijirou’s foot. “Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair,” he said, his voice just too soft to not be a full grumble. “You’re not a burden or whatever. It’s fine.”
Sero nodded. “Just tell us what you need, dude,” he agreed. “We’ve got you.”
And for some reason, Eijirou believed them.