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"That's the last box!" Kirishima shouted excitedly. He placed the box in front of the door and looked at his room. It looked strangely bare. There were no posters on the walls, nothing on the table except for one pen and the festive clothes for tomorrow. There were no sheets on his bed. The cupboards were bare. Everything he owned was sealed in boxes that his parents were to take back to their house the next day, where he would move in for a while. He didn't start at Fat Gum's agency until two weeks later. He hoped to fill the time with family visits and a little rest before becoming Fat Gum's chief sidekick.
Sitting on the edge of his bed was Bakugou. He smiled sweetly at him. "Thanks, bro , for helping me wrap this all up."
"You were making fucking noise," Bakugou complained. Three hours ago, he had returned to his room and tried to repeat his celebratory speech he was supposed to give right after Iida, but he was disturbed by the noise from Kirishima's room. When he went to scold him, he stopped between the doors. Kirishima's things were strewn in all directions, and the redhead looked like he was going to cry any minute. Every time he packed an item into a box, he remembered something and started to whimper. Bakugou took pity on him and offered to help him. Kirishima still occasionally cried or stopped to tell him another story, but Bakugou listened quietly. He knew he needed to.
"I'm sorry," Kirishima apologized to him. He sat down next to Bakugou and sighed. "Three years... it flew by."
"Yeah," Bakugou confirmed. He himself couldn't believe that tomorrow was the day he would end their high school years and officially become an adult, working man. He was nervous, just like everyone else. But he was also insanely excited. He couldn't wait for the moment when he would put on his hero costume and take to the streets as one of the new heroes. People were stopping him on the street already, knowing his name and history, but what about when his actions would officially start counting towards the charts? He felt the top spot was within reach.
"Three years...," Kirishima whispered. All of his memories suddenly appeared before his eyes. Nostalgic ones, like his admissions or his first day of school. Funny ones, when he once made Mina laugh so hard that soup came out her nose and a pea got stuck in one of her nostrils. Nice ones, like when he, Jirou and Sero used to go to the beach in the summer and eat ice cream. Unforgettable, like when he and Bakugou went hiking in the mountains, just the two of them, with no signal, when they felt like they owned the world. Sad ones, like the first time he held the dead-cold palm of the heroine who breathed her last words before him with a smile. Traumatic ones, like the one he'd taken away from the war, and even years later they still woke him from his sleep. "Three years...," he repeated. His throat tightened and his hands began to tremble slightly. Tears rushed to his eyes. Of sadness? Happiness? Of nervousness? Disappointment? He had no idea. That's why he was afraid of them.
"Come on," Bakugou said suddenly, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to his feet. He opened the glass door to the balcony and they walked out together. It was spring, but the nights were still quite cold. The sky was dark blue, with the moon and a few stars shining above them. A gentle wind tickled them, playing with their hot skin. They both shivered slightly under its touch. Bakugou leaned his elbows on the railing and looked down. He had never been afraid of heights. Yet this time his stomach tightened. But it wasn't fear. He knew it was Kirishima's fault. He glanced briefly at his friend. He was leaning against the railing just like him. He blinked, trying to fight back the tears, a smile on his face, but he couldn't make it look real. His smile twisted into a strange grimace he couldn't identify. "Dumbass," he whispered.
Kirishima heard him, though. "Maybe I am," he chuckled, rubbing his eyes with his hand. For a moment, it helped. "I'll just... miss it."
"What?"
"Being here. With everyone. Being able to talk every day, go out to dinner together or watch a movie. Go shopping for clothes and talk about anything we can think of."
"We can still do that, Shitty Hair."
"Really, Bakugou?" The seriousness in his voice didn't sit well with Bakugou. He looked at him and widened his eyes slightly in surprise. Kirishima looked - dejected, morose. He knew his weak moments, the days when he felt like the whole world had turned against him. But this look was foreign and new. He didn't like it. He clenched his fist. "Sero's going to Kanazawa, Mina's going to work in Nagoya, Denki's going to Saitama, and you're going to Tokyo. I'm moving to Osaka in two weeks. We'll all be somewhere else."
"We can still meet each other."
"...Really?" Kirishima asked with hope in his voice.
Bakugou didn’t know what to say at first. He knew it would be hard for them. They'd each be working different shifts, they'd be far apart. None of them had a driver's license, and traveling in public was difficult when they were almost as known as celebrities. Each of them was growing up, starting to prefer different things, changing their opinions and hobbies. He knew that each of them would find a group of friends to hang out with. It was normal for people to forget each other after a while. But Bakugou, despite how vehemently he tried to tell everyone that he didn't care about people and didn't have any friends; he couldn't imagine that. He had gotten used to going to the arcade with Kaminari, lying in Sero's hammock while they ate noodles and talked about the world, playing in a band with Jirou, going to stores with Mina and trying on the craziest outfits in the booths. But nothing could compare to those moments with Kirishima - when they laughed, talked about all kinds of things, and sometimes, when they were alone and not bothered by the weight of the world, they hugged and looked into each other's eyes as if all the answers to the questions they were afraid to say out loud were written there.
So Bakugou just whispered, "Yeah."
Kirishima chuckled. "If someone like you says it, it must be true."
"Someone like me?"
"You're not nostalgic, you live in the present and you're rational. You're also one of the smartest people I know. Then you must be right."
"Of course I am, Shitty hair." They both laughed at that.
There was a comfortable silence that nothing disturbed. They stood there side by side, letting the cold wind caress them and looking up at the stars. Time passed slowly, yet they felt like asking him to slow down some more. They wanted to enjoy the moment of peace and quiet for as long as they could.
"Still, I'm sad that Nezu didn't let us have a graduation party after all," Kirishima admitted after a while.
"Wasn't yesterday enough for you?" Bakugou asked him.
"No," Kirishima laughed.
When the students learned that Principal Nezu wouldn't allow them to have a large graduation party, for security and probably his own personal reasons, they decided to take matters into their own hands. Professor Aizawa controlled their planning, but still gave them plenty of leeway. Last night was filled with loud music and laughter that echoed far away from the 3-A dorm. Sato baked the cakes, Bakugou and Koda took care of the snacks, Jirou made the music, and Mina and Hagakure prepared the games. Everyone had fun. Even Professor Aizawa laughed a few times as he watched his students enjoy themselves. It was a celebration of adulthood, which they washed down with the red wine Aoyama had brought them. For most of them, it was the first - and probably the last - alcoholic drink of their lives.
"Why?" Bakugou asked curiously.
"I wanted to... dance."
"I saw you dancing," Bakugou protested, remembering how he had seen Kirishima dancing in the middle of the main room with all of their classmates.
"Hm, yes, it was fun and I enjoyed it... But I wanted to ask someone else to dance." Bakugou looked at him. They watched each other in silence for a moment before Kirishima quietly admitted: "You." Bakugou blinked at him in confusion. "I know... I know you don't like dancing." He scratched his hair nervously. "And... overall... just... this group stuff isn't for you. But I was hoping we could... dance together. As friends, of course!" He shouted, as if afraid Bakugou would take it the wrong way.
"As friends?" Bakugou asked.
"Hm." Kirishima's voice didn't sound very sure.
Bakugou recognized it. He raised his eyebrows and caught the railing in his hands. "Then why didn't you ask me?"
"They didn't play a song I wanted to dance to with you."
"And if we were having a graduation party, would there be music playing that you would have asked me to dance to?"
"Of course."
"Sounds like you want to ask me to slow dance with you," Bakugou chuckled. Kirishima didn't say anything in response. When he looked at his friend, he noticed how red his face had become. He began to look anywhere but at Bakugou. Bakugou chuckled again. "Really, Kirishima?"
"Yeah," Kirishima admitted quietly, "Sorry, it's stupid. It would probably be weird, wouldn't it? If your bros were dancing together in the middle of the dance floor to some slow song, and they were pressing up against each other as they did it and..." He cleared his throat. The idea wasn't bad at all.
Silence fell between them again. This time it was awkward. Wordlessly, Bakugou let go of the railing and walked back into the room. Kirishima sighed loudly. He could feel it. The disappointment in his heart that was slowly melting into his entire body. He could have guessed that Bakugou would find this strange. He had always tried his best to let Bakugou know how much he cared for him and that their friendship might not have been just a friendship for a long time, but every time things looked promising and Bakugou started to pick up on his hints, he would back off. He was afraid of losing Bakugou. He didn't want to lose him. He hated even the thought of them being nine hours apart by train, let alone admitting that he would never see him again. But now he felt alone. He felt like he had messed something up and hoped Bakugou would talk to him normally tomorrow.
He was about to leave when he heard music coming from his room. The calm, soft tones of the piano accompanied by the violin reached his ears. The music was played softly, so as not to wake anyone up, yet it could be heard clearly. Bakugou placed his phone, from which the music was pouring, on Kirishima's desk and returned to the balcony. He stood between the doors for a moment. Kirishima blinked at him in confusion.
"So?" Bakugou asked. "Are you going to ask me to dance, or are we going to stand here like idiots until morning?"
Kirishima opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it again, and did this several more times. He looked like a fish out of water. His face turned red and a few beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Bakugou watched him the whole time. After a while, he rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth loudly. He was about to turn around and go back into the room when Kirishima grabbed his wrist and shouted, "Wait!" Bakugou was sure his shout had woken Shouji up. "Wait," he repeated a little more quietly. The grip on his hand didn't loosen. "I-I..." He cleared his throat. "Bakugou Katsuki–" Bakugou felt himself blush. He had never heard Kirishima call him by his first name before. It sounded so – sweet and delicious coming from his mouth. "–will you dance with me?"
"Tch," Bakugou snorted, "of course."
Kirishima couldn't help smiling. His cheeks hurt from how he couldn't hide his excitement. He took two steps back, Bakugou following him without a word. They stood in the middle of the balcony. Kirishima looked Bakugou over for a moment, wondering where he should put his hands. Should he grab him like his female dance partners? Lead him? Or put his hands on his shoulders and let Bakugou wrap his around his hips? All options sounded appealing.
"Dumbass," Bakugou repeated as he placed one hand on his waist and grabbed Kirishima’s palm with the other. Kirishima did the same. He touched Bakugou's waist with one hand - admiring for a moment how narrow it felt between his fingers - and gripped his palm with the other.
Kirishima took a step forward, Bakugou a step back. Kirishima took a step to the left, Bakugou did too. After a moment, they found a rhythm, neither of them knowing who was actually leading and was the one setting it. They moved in a natural way, as if they were doing it for the umpteenth time. They looked into each other's eyes, not moving their gaze away. Kirishima was smiling, and even the corners of Bakugou's mouth were slightly raised, his face relaxed.
"Your hand is sweating," Kirishima laughed. That surprised Bakugou. Suddenly, a few explosions erupted from his palms. They were faint, but they stung nonetheless. Kirishima managed to harden his hand. He laughed.
"Shut up," Bakugou growled at him. There were a few more explosions. Kirishima's laughter grew louder. "Shut up!" He shouted. He was sure he must have woken Jirou up with that shout. He pulled Kirishima closer to him, their chests crashing into each other, their thighs brushing.
"I'm going to miss this more than anything."
"What, Shitty hair?"
Kirishima sighed. "You and me." He looked down at their joined palms. He had no idea what had come over him, but he couldn't resist the temptation to intertwine their fingers. Once he forced Bakugou's fingers apart slightly, he immediately slid his own between them and squeezed tightly. He was surprised that Bakugou returned the touch. However, he was unable to look at his face. Still watching their palms, his heart raced, his stomach tightened. "The freedom I feel with you. The happiness you've shown me. This..." Kirishima closed his eyes. Why did everything he loved always leave him? It was as if he carried a curse with him.
Bakugou paused. He let go of Kirishima's side and moved his hand to his face. He stroked it lightly. His face was red and hot. He moved his hand to his chin and made Kirishima turn to look at him. As soon as the redhead felt his touch, he opened his eyes and looked into his eyes. They had been the same height for a few months now, and while it seemed that Bakugou had stopped growing, it seemed as if it was just beginning for Kirishima. For now, though, it suited them both to see directly into each other's eyes and nudge each other with their noses. "Why would you miss that?"
Kirishima chuckled. "Really, Katsuki?" He couldn't resist calling him that. The moment seemed intimate. They both felt it. They couldn't hide their true feelings from each other. "Tomorrow, everything will be over. This is our last night. I... I don't know if I'll make it."
"You really are an idiot," Bakugou said, leaning in slightly.
Kirishima knew what he was planning. He'd wanted it for so long! But he couldn't help the ache in his heart. He moved his hand from his waist to his chest and placed his palm on it. He stopped him. "No, Katsuki... Don't do this if it's the first and last time."
Bakugou let go of his chin and grabbed the hand he had placed on his chest. He didn't say anything. He pulled his hand away from his chest and leaned forward. Their lips locked together like two pieces of a puzzle. Kirishima groaned slightly. For so long, he had dreamed of what Bakugou's lips must have tasted like. But nothing compared to reality. They were thick, soft, and sweet. He felt ashamed when he realized how dry and chapped his lips were. But Bakugou didn't seem to mind. He pulled away from him only to wet his lips with his tongue and kiss him again. Their kiss was a little wetter, more eager, more real.
They began to make out. Neither of them knew what they were doing. It was the first time they had tasted someone else's lips. Maybe they opened their mouths too much, maybe their teeth crashed into each other too much, maybe their tongues fought too much for dominance. Still, it seemed perfect to them. Bakugou's hands held Kirishima's cheeks. They were sweating and occasionally fired off a few weak explosions. Kirishima held Bakugou's hips. His fingers hardened, slowly tearing at the thick fabric of his black sweatpants.
They kissed for several long minutes. Four more songs played.
When they finally pulled away from each other, instead of a symphony, Bakugou's cell phone played a rock song, neither of them noticing the screaming voice and hard melody. They looked at each other immediately. Even though their gaze was clouded with excitement and longing for the other, they could make out the red cheeks, the glistening lips, and the hope in each other's eyes.
"Dumbass," Bakugou repeated for the umpteenth time that night, "it's the last night at school, not in our lives. I couldn't... I couldn't be without you, Eijirou." They leaned their foreheads against each other. They closed their eyes, breathing into each other's faces. Kirishima's breath still smelled of the yakitori he'd eaten hours ago, while Bakugou's breath was sweet from the strawberry chews that he started buying a few months ago. "Eijirou," he repeated again, as if testing how his name sounded on his tongue. "Eijirou," he said again when he realized he liked it.
"Katsuki," Kirishima said excitedly, kissing Bakugou lightly on the lips. They were both swollen and sore from the kisses. "Katsuki," he repeated again. He too couldn't get enough of his name. Bakugou felt himself starting to burn. His palms began to explode more. He wrapped his arms around Kirishima's shoulders, digging his palms into his elbows where he smothered his explosions. They couldn't hurt his skin anymore. "Katsuki," he repeated for the last time that night as he wrapped his arms tightly around Bakugou's waist, his nose buried in his shoulder and sucked in his scent hard.
Bakugou was right. It was their last night at UA High School.
But it was the first night they could taste each other's lips.
And both of them would do everything they could to make sure that the last night between the two of them would never come.