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Mina was the one who introduced Eijirou to the fanfics, a couple days before the information made the rounds among the rest of their classmates.
He wasn’t that interested at first — he glanced at a few, out of morbid curiosity, but reading idealized stories about a version of himself that wasn’t really all that much like him got boring fast. Turns out, learning how people see him just made him feel worse about who he actually is. So he stopped reading them.
That didn’t stop Mina from sending him fic recs, though.
They’re constant — he offers her the barest courtesy of a one- or two-word response each time, knowing full well he’s never going to read any of them.
That is, until she sends him what might be the wildest text of his life so far.
Did you know there’s an entire tag for you and Bakubabe being in a relationship? I guess you’re not the only one who wants you guys to kiss ;P
Eijirou hates admitting it, but he’s intrigued. Sure, he’s written off the idea of reading about himself, but those ones were all solo. Maybe it’ll be different if Bakugou is also in the picture. And maybe, just maybe, supplementing other people’s ideas will give Eijirou’s overactive imagination a break from fantasizing about Bakugou twenty-four-seven.
Against his better judgement, he asks Mina to send him the tag link.
He’s still not into reading fanfic, so he doesn't look at it right away — but it's there if he wants to. If he decides to venture into that territory.
It takes four days for him to break.
The moment comes after multiple hours of him trying to do his math homework, but mostly just staring at the paper and thinking about Bakugou. Some bizarre combination of hyperfixation and executive dysfunction. He wants to do his math homework, but his brain won't let him, and all he can focus on is wondering what Bakugou is doing. He probably finished his homework hours ago — he's smart, he breezes through most subjects. Maybe he's reading. Or training. Maybe he's thinking about Eijirou — but no, Bakugou wouldn't be thinking about him. He has more important things to think about.
Eijirou can't take it anymore — thinking about math is clearly out of the question, so if he's gonna think about Bakugou, he might as well dive in headfirst and commit to fantasizing.
He hesitates before actually clicking the link. It feels like something he can't come back from if he does it. Something major and life-altering and permanent.
He clicks the link.
He's seen AO3 pages before, so that's not new, but the big ‘632 works under Kirishima Eijirou | Red Riot/Bakugou Katsuki | Dynamight’ header hits him like an oncoming train.
There are 632 stories that real people have written about him and Bakugou being in love with each other. He almost can't believe it.
But it's there. Right in front of him.
The number honestly kind of intimidates him, but he tries not to think about it as he scrolls down the page, scanning summaries for something that sounds intriguing.
The first fic he reads is pretty good — they write Bakugou as kind of an arrogant asshole until near the end, but the rush of visualizing the ending kiss allows Eijirou to put that out of his mind. He doesn't even read another fic afterwards, just rides that high for a while.
He does eventually get his math homework done, too, once the endorphin rush wears off.
There's a few days before he opens up the tag link again — this time he's laying in bed, unable to sleep, fixated on the thought that Bakugou is just on the other side of their shared wall. Reading a new fic is just a distraction, to keep him from giving into his urge to knock on said wall and hope for a response.
But reading the fics at night, in his bed, allows Eijirou's brain the most amount of space to run wild — taking the basic concepts other people have set up and pushing them to their extremes.
It doesn't take long to become a habit.
He notices some things as he reads more, common themes and situations that people tend to put the two of them in. But he also notices his biggest pet peeve with almost every writer in the tag.
They don't know how to write Bakugou.
Most fics portray him as confident — even over confident, with a particular arrogance and ‘everyone is beneath me’ attitude. But that's not what he's like.
Sure, he pretends like he's above everyone, but the god complex is fake. It's an act, a defense mechanism to keep people away from him because he doesn't know how to deal with them. Bakugou isn’t an asshole just because he's an asshole. He's an asshole because it's easier than letting people in.
Eijirou eventually makes an account just to bookmark the fics that almost get him right — the ones where he's human all the way through, not just at the end where he needs to be better just for the romance.
That's when he finds groundzero420.
He’s drawn in initially by the succinct summaries — always a short excerpt from the fic, followed by an even shorter plot explanation. But once he actually reads one, he falls in love with the style. Not only is zero’s writing sophisticated and satisfying to read, but his Bakugou is… well, he's Bakugou.
Eijirou is immediately taken by zero’s hesitant, insecure Bakugou that overthinks every social situation and avoids interaction. He's real — Eijirou’s convinced that the writer has to be someone they know, because no one else has been able to pin Bakugou so accurately.
Zero’s Bakugou isn't arrogant — he doesn't declare his feelings like they should be obvious, he's all shy looks and small touches and mumbled words of begrudging affection that his Kirishima doesn't quite catch. He’s mean to everyone because he's awkward, and when Kirishima responds like he didn't just scream at him, zero's Bakugou is equal parts grateful for the kindness and guilty he snapped in the first place.
It all just makes Kirishima love Bakugou — both the one in the fics and the one in real life — even more.
It kind of bleeds into his real life, honestly — he knows that the Bakugou from the fics isn't the Bakugou he sees every day, but he still finds himself touching more, a hand on a shoulder or smudging the ash on Bakugou's cheek. He doles out even more praise than he typically would — “You looked awesome out there,” and “That was so amazing,” and “You've gotten so powerful, how am I gonna keep up?”
And he might be imagining it, but it kinda seems like Bakugou likes it.
Zero posts constantly, so there's always new stuff for Eijirou to read. Or try to read — he's spent a few months with the understanding that any of his nights might be interrupted by Bakugou's nightmares, and he's always been okay with that.
So it's not too surprising when three straight nights have Bakugou banging on his door, clinging to Eijirou once he's inside and inevitably falling asleep in his bed, next to him. It's not exactly routine, but it's familiar, and the small part of Eijirou that isn't flooded with concern revels a little in the ability to hold Bakugou like that — the fact that Bakugou lets him get close enough to cuddle up like they are, much less that it's something he actively seeks out.
Eijirou spends these nights staring at Bakugou's face — it softens when he's asleep, and Eijirou takes his time smoothing the crease in Bakugou's brow and ghosting his fingertips over faint freckles. Rarely, if he's feeling particularly bold (or particularly stupid), he presses a soft kiss to Bakugou’s forehead.
By the third night in a row, Eijirou's having his own flashbacks to Kamino — he remembers hearing the announcement that Bakugou was taken, the immediate and debilitating fear that washed over him. He's never been more terrified than when he was faced with the prospect of never seeing Bakugou again. That's why Eijirou was so dead-set on getting him back.
Now, months later and generally safe in the UA dorms, Eijirou still finds himself holding Bakugou tighter as he whispers, “I'll never let anyone take you again. I swear.”
Bakugou’s back in his own room on night four, but Eijirou is still thinking about it. A lot of the details are blurry, memories muddled by the adrenaline rush he was having for several consecutive hours, but some things are clear as day.
He remembers knowing that he had to rescue Bakugou. Or, more accurately, he remembers knowing that he had to do it. He couldn't wait for the pros to do it — the longer it took, the higher the likelihood that Bakugou would end up dead, and Eijirou couldn't risk that.
He remembers talking with Midoriya about who would call out to him, and Midoriya telling him “It has to be you.” He remembers actually calling out — the anxiety that maybe it wouldn't work, maybe they were too late, and the rush of relief when Bakugou’s hand grabbed his, still warm from the explosions.
He remembers the tight hug they shared when they landed — one that Eijirou initiated, but Bakugou didn't even try to refuse. They were both crying, clutching each other’s shirts like they needed to make sure it was real.
It was. And as much as Eijirou wishes Kamino had never happened, he's still so glad that hug was real.
He spends the whole night dwelling on the memories and barely getting any sleep, but it's a weekend, so who cares. He’ll probably get to spend the whole day with Bakugou, who is both very real and very alive, thank fucking god.
Two nights later, Eijirou sees that groundzero420 has posted yet another new fic — not another ficlet, but a decently long single-chapter fic, with a trigger warning in the notes.
TW: implied traumatic experiences and PTSD.
Heavy stuff. Eijirou’s honestly kind of intrigued.
It starts with a nightmare — a twisted version of Kamino, where the rescue never happened and Bakugou dies at the hands of the league. But Bakugou jolts awake in a cold sweat, instead, terrified and slightly disoriented but definitely still alive.
The next events are really familiar to Eijirou — Bakugou can't be alone, so he leaves, slamming his own door shut and pounding on the one next door until Kirishima opens up, because he always does, he's the only constant Bakugou has.
They hold each other and lay together until Bakugou falls asleep in Kirishima’s arms, just barely catching a whispered “Good night.”
It's exactly how Bakugou’s nightmares actually go.
But it's always behind closed doors. No one knows that except the two of them.
Eijirou’s mind starts racing, putting together details that he hadn't really thought about before.
Phrases most people wouldn't know they've said. Eijirou promising to be Bakugou’s unbreakable horse. Eijirou pulling Bakugou aside when they're out in public and he gets too overstimulated. Eijirou learning some sign because Bakugou doesn’t always have his hearing aids in (or turned on).
Some of the ficlets take place in Bakugou’s room, a place no one’s been inside except the two of them, and yet the details are always spot-on — his office supplies all parallel to the desk edges, the heavy down comforter with a black duvet. The All Might posters up on the wall, alongside one Crimson Riot poster that Eijirou originally gave him as a joke.
The red hoodie Eijirou let him ‘borrow’ but never asked to get back, thrown across the back of the desk chair because he'd never be caught dead wearing it in public, but he pulls it on anytime they hang out in his room. The second pillow on his bed, pillowcase accidentally stained pink from Eijirou’s hair dye.
And now the nightmare, a perfect one-to-one of what their reality has been for the last few months. Eijirou puts all the pieces together, wondering how he hadn't realized before.
Zero’s Bakugou feels so real because groundzero420 is Bakugou.
It sounds insane, even though he knows there's no other explanation — Bakugou just doesn't seem like the kind of guy to write fanfiction, much less respond to Eijirou’s appreciative comments with smiley faces and hearts.
And if groundzero420 is Bakugou… that means Bakugou maybe likes him.
Eijirou physically shakes his head. Just because zero’s fics are under the relationship tag doesn’t mean that the real life Bakugou has a crush on him. They’re just centered around the two of them, so the tag makes sense. It’s not like any of them have actually been romantic.
He really needs to stop reading into things before he does something stupid.
He’s brought out of his own head by a loud sound next door, and he shuts his phone off, shoving it in his sweatpants pocket — he can worry about the groundzero420 thing later. He quietly makes his way out into the hall, knocking on Bakugou’s door after shutting his own behind him.
Bakugou opens it almost immediately, looking genuinely exhausted. “What.”
“I heard a noise. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“M’fine.” Bakugou rubs one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Just tipped my chair over.”
Eijirou laughs a little. “How’d you do that?”
“None of your fuckin’ business,” Bakugou predictably responds, but he cracks a small smile. “You got your answer, you can leave now.”
Eijirou ignores him, reaching out to cradle Bakugou’s face. He runs his thumb over one of Bakugou’s dark circles. “You look tired.”
“Who car—”
Eijirou cuts him off. “ I care. Can I do anything?”
Bakugou doesn’t respond right away, switching between staring at Eijirou and the ground for a few minutes before he finally, near-whispering, asks, “Stay with me?”
“Of course.”
Bakugou steps aside so Eijirou can come into his room, heading straight for the bed. He watches Bakugou shut his laptop at the desk before coming over to join him, climbing in under the covers by Eijirou’s side.
This isn’t the first time this has happened — even when he isn’t having nightmares, Bakugou has bad nights, and Eijirou might be completely off the mark, but it sure seems like he sleeps better with Eijirou there.
Then again, if the nightmare fic is any indication, Eijirou makes him feel safe. So maybe that’s not such a crazy thought.
Once Bakugou is settled, Eijirou lays an arm over his waist. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Shitty Hair.”
Eijirou rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. He just watches Bakugou’s face for a while, not letting himself drift off until he’s sure Bakugou is safely asleep.
Eijirou ends up sitting on the information that zero is Bakugou for the next few days, not really sure what to do about it. He doesn’t want to tell Bakugou he knows, because that would probably just scare him out of what is clearly a good outlet for his feelings, but at the same time, Eijirou is struggling to process it all on his own.
And then zero posts his next fic.
Up until this point, Eijirou had been able to write everything off as just Bakugou writing about his life for vent reasons. But the new fic, while it starts with the usual touches and glances, culminates in a full-on confession, and the emotional impact of that makes Eijirou want to scream.
(He does. Into his pillow. For several minutes.)
He rereads it a dozen times — stuck on “Other people don’t care about me. I know I suck, so I get it. But you care. You care, and that — fuck, Ei, you have no idea how much that means to me,” and “With you being who you are, and after everything you’ve done for me, how could I not fall in love with you?” and “I’m terrified — really, truly, scared out of my mind — but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I — I had to put it out there.”
It’s like he can hear it in his head, Bakugou’s stilted way of speaking that only kicks in when he’s nervous — and it’s too real for Eijirou’s brain to take. He just has to lay there, staring at the ceiling and replaying the words over and over again in his head.
“Dumb Hair— Kiri— Eijirou, I like you. I’m sorry, but I do.”
Why would he be sorry? A confession from Bakugou would be the best moment of Eijirou’s entire goddamn life. Not to mention the idea of hearing his own given name in Bakugou’s voice — he’s thought about that a lot.
Once he’s done fixating, he finally reads the rest of the fic: fictional Kirishima’s response, way more smooth than Eijirou could ever be in real life, but hitting most of the same points he would — undoubtedly a result of how well Bakugou knows him — and obviously a kiss, written exactly the same way Eijirou’s imagined it anytime he finds himself staring at Bakugou’s mouth a little bit too long. It ends on another whispered declaration of feelings, uttered directly from Kirishima’s mouth against Bakugou’s, just for the two of them to hear.
It’s all so… much that, for maybe the fifth time ever, Eijirou is compelled to post a comment.
He writes: ‘i really like the way you write bakugou. i feel like a lot of fic writers make him this overconfident caricature, but your bakugou is believable. he’s human, and that makes it way easier to get immersed in your stories and actually care about what happens to him, because it feels so real. i loved this one, hope you write more like it in the future.’
He hopes that the focus on how zero-Bakugou writes fic-Bakugou will mask the fact that he knows who’s behind it all — and also maybe convince him to explore this romantic angle more so Eijirou can figure out whether this one was a fluke or whether Bakugou legitimately does like him like that.
He gets his answer over the course of the next couple weeks, when zero uploads a sequel first-date fic and a couple other imagined confessions. The same kind of fantasies Eijirou has been having since… ever, really — since they met, almost.
He loses his shit with the Kamino fic — it’s everything. Even with the author’s note at the end, Eijirou knows Bakugou wouldn’t ‘bend reality’ about the way he was thinking while he was kidnapped. And that means that he did consider joining the League, and he did consider dying, and at the end of it all, Eijirou is the reason he’s still here.
Eijirou can’t even quantify the weight of that realization — how are you supposed to act when you find out that you’re someone’s primary reason for living? That shit’s heavy.
His brain opts to shove it aside for later consideration.
Bakugou mentions Kirishima feeling ‘safe’ again, during the rescue, and it makes Eijirou’s chest feel warm — a feeling that’s only amplified with Bakugou’s recollection of their hug, which is about the same as Eijirou’s own.
He finds the bent reality at the end, with a tender exchange that he wishes, in hindsight, had actually happened. Because it’s true — he will always come for Bakugou, no matter what happens. He’s just not nearly cool or confident enough to tell him that to his face.
The Kamino fic is… a lot. Too much to think about all the time, so Eijirou finds himself writing a list of all the big realizations he’s come to because of the whole godforsaken fanfic thing.
THINGS I KNOW NOW:
- groundzero420 is Bakugou.
- I am Bakugou’s safe space.
- Bakugou likes me back.
- I am the reason Bakugou is still alive.
It’s a short list, sure, but every single entry feels massive, and it’s nice having them down on paper so they can take up somewhat less space in his head.
Bakugou uploads fics periodically going forward — they’re longer than before, so he takes longer to write each one. None of them is the emotional gut-punch the Kamino fic was, but that’s probably for the best — Eijirou’s not sure his heart can take any more massive realizations.
Their day-to-day stays pretty normal — knowing looks, Eijirou’s hand on Bakugou’s back while they listen to a briefing for class, spending afternoons doing homework together in Bakugou’s room with their legs tangled together and Eijirou trying his hardest not to focus on how big his hoodie looks when Bakugou wears it.
He catches Bakugou staring more, though. Before, he chalked it up to Bakugou not wanting to stare at anyone else (lest they think he’s mad at them), but knowing what he knows now, Eijirou feels a little more self-conscious about being watched so intently.
He doesn’t tell Bakugou to stop.
He doesn’t want Bakugou to stop.
He just lets himself stare at Bakugou more, too.
Why wouldn’t he want to stare at Bakugou? Bakugou is gorgeous. The least of it are his ruby-red eyes, half-hidden beneath ash-blond hair — deceptively soft despite its spiky appearance. His skin is soft, too, marred only by a couple small scars and intermittently dotted with patches of faint freckles that most people would never notice but Eijirou adores. His toned body is the result of years of hard training, with strong limbs with a waist so small Eijirou can almost fit both of his hands around it (of course he’s tried).
He complains about being the spitting image of his mother — a self-perception that makes him dysphoric, Eijirou knows — but he’s really not. He has a beauty entirely his own, and Eijirou has been captivated by it since the first time he saw him.
So yeah. He stares.
As a result, he notices, fic Kirishima also spends more time staring at fic Bakugou. It makes Eijirou laugh a little — he doesn’t even know if Bakugou realizes how much the change in reality also changes his writing.
They continue like that for a while, dancing around each other more than they used to but never making a move. And that’s fine. It works for them.
Then Shigaraki happens.
Watching Bakugou take the hit for Midoriya is terrifying. Eijirou is proud of him for being so selfless, obviously (that shows a massive amount of personal growth), but at the same time — well, not many people come back from being repeatedly impaled in the vital organs, and the thought hits Eijirou like a bullet train.
Bakugou could die.
Bakugou could die, and Eijirou was too much of a coward to tell him he loves him.
What a fucking joke.
When the battle’s said and done, Eijirou’s first concern is Bakugou — where is he, is he going to live, is he okay? — but none of his questions are answered until after he’s strongarmed into some medical attention of his own.
He doesn’t care about his own cuts. Bakugou Katsuki could be dying, and Eijirou isn’t by his side, and it’s driving him insane. He’s hyperfixated on the idea and his brain refuses to calm the fuck down until the situation is righted.
Recovery Girl finally takes pity on him after he’s asked her for the fifth time, and she tells him where Bakugou is. “He’s asleep right now, though,” she warns, “so don’t expect much.”
“I won’t.” Eijirou breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s sleeping, that at least means he’s alive, and that’s what matters.
He forces himself to go back to the dorms and get changed out of his costume before he goes to visit — there’s no use sitting around in dirty clothes for who-knows-how-long while he waits for Bakugou to wake up.
Because he’s going to wait, as long as it takes. When Bakugou opens his eyes, Eijirou will be right there with him — Eijirou swore to always stay by his side, and that’s not a promise Eijirou intends to break.
Once he’s dressed, he beelines for the room Bakugou is in, dodging concerned classmates and suggestions that maybe he should eat something first. He doesn’t need food right now — he’s been waiting long enough.
For everything.
Seeing Katsuki causes another wave of relief to wash over him — he’s asleep, and Eijirou can see the bandages wrapped around his torso, but he’s there. Eijirou pulls the armchair in the corner closer to the bed before taking a seat, focusing on Katsuki’s face.
“When you wake up,” he says softly, “I’m going to tell you how much I love you.”
He hadn’t really, fully realized it until this incident, but either of them could die at any moment — and Eijirou refuses to let that happen before he tells Katsuki how he feels.
He takes Katsuki’s hand — it’s the perfect size to fit in his own, and almost ice cold, so Eijirou covers it with his other hand as well.
Eijirou sits there for hours, listening to the sound of Katsuki breathing and his own anxious heartbeat roaring in his ears. Every time Katsuki stirs, Eijirou searches his face for signs that he’s waking up, but they don’t come.
He isn’t able to completely fall asleep, but he dozes, still holding Katsuki’s hand.
He only really wakes up when Katsuki’s weak voice asks, “Kiri…shima?”
Eijirou sits bolt upright, and there he is — Bakugou Katsuki, eyes shining in the light of the sunrise and somehow managing to make half-dead look pretty.
“Yeah,” Eijirou responds, voice soft. “I’m here.”
Katsuki gives his hand a weak squeeze, joking, “I lived, bitch.”
Eijirou laughs wetly, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s crying. He’s just so fucking happy — Katsuki’s gonna be okay.
“Stop crying,” Katsuki chastises, voice equally wobbly. “You’re gonna make me cry, too.”
“Sorry. I just —” Eijirou gives Katsuki’s hand a squeeze of his own. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Cheesy bastard.” Katsuki rubs his eyes with his free hand. “Fuck you, now I’m crying.”
Eijirou just laughs.
They stay like that for a while, quiet, while they both try to stop crying. But once they’re calm again, Eijirou breaks the silence.
“I know you’re groundzero420,” he blurts out. Not really the way he wanted to start, but he supposes that’s a way.
Katsuki blinks at him. “What.”
“I found your fics on accident — it took me a while to realize it was you, but I know there’s no way anyone else would know so much about your room and stuff. Except me, but… y’know.” He shuts up before he keeps rambling forever.
Katsuki is staring at him, wide-eyed and almost looking scared. “I-I — fuck. I mean —”
Fuck. He thinks this is a bad thing. Eijirou needs to save this.
He cuts Katsuki off before he can form a coherent sentence. “Hey, hey! Calm down! It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.” Katsuki lets his head fall back onto his pillow, eyes closed, and he throws his free arm over his face. “I shouldn’t have blindly counted on the idea that you wouldn’t see them.”
“Really, dude, it’s fine —”
“It’s not fine!” Katsuki snaps. “Those feelings were supposed to be private. ”
Eijirou frowns a little. “Katsuki, please shut up for ten seconds and listen to what I’m trying to say.”
Katsuki lifts his arm, opening one eye to peek at Eijirou. “Since when am I ‘Katsuki’?”
“Since you almost died. Now shut up and let me talk.”
Katsuki hesitates, then quietly concedes, “Okay.”
Eijirou sighs softly, pausing before he says, “I’m wannari0t.”
That hangs in the air between them for what feels like an eternity, while Katsuki searches his face — for what, Eijirou doesn’t know. A sign that he’s lying? Making a joke? Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t find it.
When he finally speaks, all he asks is, “I — what?”
“I wasn’t originally interested in reading the fics,” Eijirou admits. “Then Mina told me there was a tag for, uh — for us, and I figured what the hell, maybe if I read some of them it’ll stop me from fantasizing all the time. It didn’t, but that’s beside the point. Anyway. I stumbled across yours on accident while I was just scrolling the tag, and I had no idea it was you at first — I just loved the writing style, and the fact that ‘hey, this author doesn’t write Bakugou as an arrogant dickhead, that’s nice’, so I read all your stuff. I didn’t realize it was you until the nightmare fic.”
Katsuki’s eyes widen with recognition, taking his hand from Eijirou so he can push himself to a sitting position. “So —”
“Yeah,” Eijirou confirms. “I realized a ton of details from your fics were a little too close to real life to be a coincidence.”
“And —” Katsuki seems almost scared of the answer, before he’s even asked the question. “And you didn’t stop reading them after that?”
Eijirou shakes his head. “I’ve read everything you’ve ever posted. And I meant every comment I ever made.”
Katsuki doesn’t seem to have a response to that.
Eijirou soldiers on. “Katsuki, I didn’t do any of that as a joke. And I didn’t do it to make fun of you. But I did do it for a reason.”
“ What reason?” Katsuki asks — his voice is shaky, unsure.
Eijirou gets out of the armchair, prompting Katsuki to scoot over so he can sit on the edge of the bed. “Katsuki,” he says softly, “I did all of that because I am ridiculously, inexplicably, hopelessly in love with you.”
Eijirou is fully aware that his voice is also shaking — so are his hands. He’s insanely nervous, because even though he can guess what Katsuki’s response will be, there’s always the small chance this doesn’t go in his favor.
But hey, at least he said it. It’s out there now.
Katsuki’s breath hitches. “Ei…”
“I really didn’t want to tell you like this,” Eijirou admits, “but then all of this —” he gestures at Katsuki’s bandages — “happened, and I thought you were really gonna die without knowing how much I love you, and — fuck, ‘Tsuki, I don’t know how I could live with myself if that happened.”
Another tense silence falls over them, only broken when Katsuki argues, “But — but I suck. You can’t be in love with me.”
“You don’t suck.” Eijirou gets all the way into the bed, squeezing in next to Katsuki. “You’re smart, and powerful, and really disciplined. And even though you can be a little mean, you always make up for it — unless they deserve it.” He chuckles. “Not to mention that you’re super manly, and seriously the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
Katsuki blushes, pale cheeks tinted bright pink. “M’not all that.”
“You are to me.”
“Fuck.” Katsuki presses his face into Eijirou’s shoulder, letting out a breathy laugh. “This is why I fell for you in the first place. You’re just so…”
“So…?”
“I don’t even know. You’re just so you, and I don’t think there’s any way I could’ve avoided falling in love with that. With you.”
Eijirou wraps an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
They’re both quiet for a moment before Katsuki asks, “When was your moment?”
“Hm?”
“The moment you realized. Like, I think I was in love with you before this, but when it really hit me was the hug, after Kamino.”
“Oh.” Eijirou considers that for a while. “I think mine was also Kamino, but earlier. When I heard you were gone and the first thought on my mind was ‘I need to get him back’.”
Katsuki laughs a little. “Kamino was kinda huge, then, huh?”
“Seems like it.” Eijirou pauses, brushing Katsuki’s bangs out of his eyes. “But I’ve loved you since the very beginning.”
Katsuki looks up at him. “What do you mean?”
“‘Tsuki, I’ve been obsessed since the first time I saw you on TV — then again at the entrance exam, then the first day of classes.” Eijirou cradles Katsuki’s face. “It’s always been you.”
Katsuki just stares up at him for a moment before admitting, “I never could’ve written this.”
That makes them both laugh, and Eijirou rests their foreheads together. “Well, could you at least come up with a proper response?”
“Fuck you,” Katsuki says, then, “My brain is mush right now, but I love you, too, you huge idiot.”
Eijirou grins. “Be my boyfriend?”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“ Finally. ” Eijirou presses a soft, chaste kiss to Katsuki’s lips. “I wish I had asked you sooner.”
“Better late than never. Now give me a proper fucking kiss, Eijirou.”
Man, Eijirou loves the way Katsuki says his name. And of course he obliges, still cupping Katsuki’s jaw with one hand. Katsuki’s mouth is just as deceptively soft as the rest of him — better than Eijirou’s wildest fantasies.
When they pull apart, Katsuki rests his head back on Eijirou’s shoulder. “Guess I can stop writing now.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Why should I keep making shit up when I’ve finally got the real thing?”