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It starts without any precedent or warning. After working out, Bakugou just sort of grabs Kirishima’s hand and drags him out of the gym, and he doesn't let go until they get back to the dormitories. As he pushes open the door to the common area, he lets go and makes this disgusted noise in the back of his throat before disappearing to the kitchen.
Kirishima isn't quite sure what just happened, but he doesn't question it because Bakugou is strange and he does things his own way, and if that means holding his hand, then so be it. He would let him.
Of course, he thought it would be a one time thing, but as it turns out, Bakugou likes to find excuses to hold his hand. He holds it when they're working out and he's spotting Kirishima as he's lifting weights. He holds it when they're practicing their fighting and he's trying to show Kirishima a new move. He holds it as they walk to class and as they walk back from class, and he never explains it, nor does Kirishima ask him to. It is what it is.
He doesn't even ask when Bakugou starts holding his hand underneath the table in the library while they're studying with their friends. He doesn't flinch even as Bakugou’s rough, calloused thumb rubs slow, soothing circles against his skin. He barely reacts when Bakugou squeezes his hand like he's afraid Kirishima might let go.
And that's fine. It's all fine. After a while, it becomes like second nature to him, holding hands with Bakugou. He just automatically reaches out to him whenever they're together, and Bakugou accepts his hand like it's nothing.
It's normal, it's fine, but after one of their training exercises one day with the entire class, Bakugou ends up getting his ass kicked pretty hard, and he ends up on his back, sweaty and angry and screaming loud enough for the entire world to hear. Kirishima takes his hand and leads him to the locker room to get him cleaned up and calm him down, and then Sero walks in, casually glances in their direction, and smiles the biggest, brightest smile Kirishima’s ever seen on his face. "Hey, man. Congratulations," he says. "I'm really happy for you."
Bakugou scowls, baring his teeth like an animal about to attack, and shouts, "Fuck you. I don't need to be congratulated for this shit."
To which Sero replies, "Uh…okay? Sorry. I thought it was a good thing." And then just disappears.
"Fuck him," Bakugou grumbles as Kirishima holds his hand, staying silent because he knows the best thing to do is to let Bakugou vent his frustrations without interruption. "I don't need his snide remarks. I just misstepped, that's all. I could've beaten the shit out of Icy Hot if I had one more minute."
"I know," Kirishima says. "Sero's just being supportive, though. You know how he is."
Bakugou squeezes his hand tighter and rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."
X
Hand holding became so normal that Kirishima didn't bother to question when Bakugou started leaning on him while they were hanging out with friends. One second they were miles apart, and then the next, they were pressed together on the couch, arm against arm, thigh against thigh, and everywhere they touched felt warm.
Even when they are in class, watching from the sidelines as their other classmates fight, Bakugou leans against him like he can't bear to have distance between them. Kirishima lets him, because he likes the way Bakugou smells and even more the way Bakugou feels against him, and he barely even registers when it happens because it just is. That's how it works.
"You guys are so cute," Uraraka whispers from behind them one day, and Kirishima smiles warmly at her as Bakugou says, "Aren't you and Deku a thing? Leave me the fuck alone."
Uraraka opens her mouth to respond, then closes it, looking far too confused to continue the conversation.
"You're cute too," Kirishima adds, just for good measure, and her eyebrows pinch together as she murmurs a quiet "thank you."
X
Leaning turns into Bakugou resting his head in Kirishima’s lap. At lunch, after working out, in the common area, wherever. During late night study sessions in the library, he rearranges the chairs so that he can lie down on his back and rest his head in Kirishima’s lap as he reads through their textbook.
This is fine. It's normal. Kirishima lets him because it helps him relax, and they can read together while Bakugou explains things to him in his harsh, condescending tone. Plus, when he starts running his fingers through Bakugou’s hair one day, Bakugou makes this cute little startled noise that makes his stomach flutter, and he decides he's going to keep doing it. Bakugou does not stop him.
"Can I look at the sources you used for your essay?" Ashido asks them one day. "I just want to make sure I'm on the right track."
"Can't say I'm surprised," Bakugou says as he rolls over to grab his backpack, never letting his head fall from Kirishima’s lap, never pulling away from his absent-minded motions as he brushes his hair out of his face. "When do any of you ever do your own damn work?"
Ashido glares at him and snatches his notebook away from him. "I really thought this might make you a nicer person, but I guess I was wrong."
"That what might make me a nicer person?" Bakugou asks, his tone sharp as he eyes her warily.
Ashido wrinkles her nose and turns her attention to the notebook. "You're such an ass."
Bakugou huffs and relaxes back against Kirishima, and Kirishima resumes idly combing his fingers through his hair. It's soft, and it kind of smells like vanilla with a hint of lavender. It's starting to become his favorite scent.
X
Bakugou has always been very into cooking, but it’s only recently that he starts dragging Kirishima to the kitchen with him while he’s making food and even more recently that he starts making food for both of them without Kirishima ever having to ask.
Today, they are not alone in the kitchen as Bakugou raids the pantry for ingredients. Sato is standing there with an apron on mixing something that smells incredibly sweet and appetizing but also makes Bakugou wrinkle his nose in disgust. Kirishima slides onto a stool at the bar and watches as Bakugou grabs spices he doesn’t even recognize off of the shelves.
“What do you want?” Bakugou asks gruffly as he starts pulling out bowls and spoons and pots.
“Whatever you’re having,” Kirishima replies. “You know I’m not picky.”
And this is fine. This is normal. But Sato is watching them, more interested in whatever is happening between them than he is his own concoction, and it makes Kirishima feel somewhat anxious, though he can’t explain why.
“Guess you’re having curry then.”
“Sounds yummy.”
“Shut the hell up.”
Kirishima smiles and settles in, watching as Bakugou starts his recipe. He’s a natural, it seems. Kirishima doesn’t think he’s ever even seen him look at a recipe. He’s just able to make everything. His hands move as if on instinct, fast and dangerous and deliberate just like he is in training. It’s amazing, and Kirishima thinks that he’s probably got the best bro in the whole world, though no one else seems to see that because Bakugou is so…well, Bakugou.
“I think it’s really sweet that you make food for him,” Sato says with a gentle smile as he pours some milk into his bowl. “I never would have expected that from you.”
Bakugou rounds on him like he’s ready to fight, and Kirishima automatically moves to intervene before things can get ugly, but really, Bakugou isn’t angry. He just looks…confused. “Why the hell would I not cook for him?” he asks. “I’m sure as fuck not letting him do it himself. He’ll burn the whole damn building down.”
“It’s true,” Kirishima adds, because Sato is glancing back and forth between the two of them with this dumbfounded look on his face like he couldn’t possibly understand the information he had just been given, then nods and turns his back on them.
“Still,” he says. “I think it’s nice.”
Bakugou huffs but doesn’t respond. He’s getting better at controlling his temper, and Kirishima couldn’t be more proud of him.
X
“Here, try this.”
Kirishima, typing a text message on his phone, opens his mouth automatically and lets Bakugou shove pork cutlet in there. Neither of them notice that everyone sitting at their table has gone completely silent, and Kirishima chews and sends his text message and says, “Did you season it differently this time?”
“Yeah. Didn’t think your palate would be refined enough to notice.” Bakugou takes a bite and then offers the rest to Kirishima, who gladly lets him feed it to him.
It’s only when Kirishima catches Yaomomo’s gaze that he realizes that something is terribly off. He stops chewing, glancing around at the others who are all staring at him like he’s suddenly grown extra limbs like Shouji, then swallows and focuses on Tsuyu, who is wearing an uncharacteristically smug smile on her face. “What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” she replies, sipping her melon soda. “It’s just that sharing food like that is kind of like an indirect kiss, isn’t it?”
Kaminari snickers, and Bakugou brings his chopstick down on his hand so hard that his laugh tapers off into a whimper, and he jerks his hand away from the table and cradles it to his chest. “What would you call that?” Bakugou asks.
Tsu blinks, slow, then shakes her head. “I don’t think I want to sit over here with you guys anymore.”
Bakugou shrugs, and Kirishima leans over him and grabs another piece of the pork cutlet in Bakugou’s bento box. It’s delicious, and it’s a damn shame that he isn’t willing to share his food with anyone else.
X
It wasn’t as if Kirishima had never slept over at Bakugou’s dorm before; oftentimes during late night study sessions they would both fall asleep, and Kirishima was far too lazy to walk the short distance from Bakugou’s dorm to his. Most nights, Bakugou was willing to let him stay, so long as he slept on the floor and out of his sight.
Tonight is different. Kirishima’s scrolling on his phone watching cute videos of capybaras while Bakugou scribbles furiously in his notebook, and after a while they just sort of…fall asleep. When Kirishima wakes up the next morning, Bakugou’s body is curled up against his, his head resting on Kirishima’s chest and his arm slung over his waist, holding him close. His breath is soft, and his face looks almost peaceful. His hair brushes over Kirishima’s skin, and goosebumps rise along his arms and shoulders as he carefully tries to disentangle himself from Bakugou’s legs, pinning him to the bed.
He isn’t careful enough, though. Bakugou wakes up with a groan, his eyes barely open as he nestles closer to Kirishima, then lets out a frustrated sigh and says, “We should just fucking skip class today.”
Kirishima laughs and nuzzles his face against Bakugou’s hair. It’s all messy from sleep, and he has the fleeting thought that Bakugou looks really adorable when he first wakes up, but he thinks that’s a perfectly normal thought to have. “I don’t think you really mean that,” he says.
“Hmm, yes I do. I’m comfortable, and I don’t fucking care about missing one day. I’m miles ahead of all those extras, anyway.”
Kirishima combs his fingers through Bakugou’s hair and hums contentedly. It sounds pretty good, staying here in bed all day with Bakugou, but while Bakugou is ahead of everyone else, he’s struggling to maintain passing grades. He could fight his way out of almost any training exercise imaginable, but trying to pass a written exam was an actual nightmare. “I think they’d wonder where we were,” he says.
“Who the hell cares?” He sounds nonchalant enough, but after a few seconds, he rolls out of bed and starts gathering his uniform to change into. They don’t have enough time to shower and eat before class starts, so Kirishima leaves without a word and heads toward his room to at least try to make himself semi-presentable for the day.
Shouji is standing in the hallway as he emerges, and he has this curious look in his eye that, for some reason, makes Kirishima’s heart feel like it’s rising into his throat.
“Good morning, Shouji!” he greets with the kindest smile he can manage. He’s still dead tired, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to turn around and crawl back in bed with Bakugou. “Did you sleep well last night? Nothing more important than a good night’s sleep!” He’s very aware his voice has risen several pitches, but he isn’t sure why.
“I did,” Shouji says, eyeing him warily. “And you?”
“Oh, yeah! Of course. Bakugou and I just fell asleep while we were hanging out last night, no big deal.” He takes a step closer to his room, his hand wrapping around the doorknob. “So I’ll see you in class?”
Shouji gives him a thumbs-up and starts to walk toward the stairs, then turns around and says, “I know this isn’t any of my business, but I’m saying it because I care about the two of you and want you to take care of yourselves. I’m sure you were safe?”
Kirishima frowns and runs a hand through his hair. No way he can get it styled in time, which is just fine because Bakugou likes it when he wears his hair down, and maybe he’s learning to like it too. “Yeah man, of course! It’s always safer to have two pro heroes in training in a room than one, am I right?”
Shouji stared at him for so long without moving that Kirishima feared he just sort of glitched out and stopped functioning altogether. Finally, he blinked, then said, “I mean, did you use protection?”
“Uh…I guess? I mean, we both have pretty powerful Quirks. I’d say we’re about as protected as we’re gonna get.” He smiles and throws open his dorm room door. “See ya soon, Shouji! Thanks for checking in on us. It means a lot, man.”
The door closes, but he’s pretty sure Shouji is still standing out there. Shit, maybe they were all going to be late for class.
X
“Fucking hell, if you don’t know what you’re doing, give me the damn eyeliner!”
“Sorry! I’ll be gentler, I promise.”
Bakugou still holds on to Kirishima’s wrist as he leans forward, tongue poked between his teeth as he concentrates on drawing a straight line on Bakugou’s eyelid. He’s ready to jerk his hand away at the first sign of him messing up, and Kirishima doesn’t blame him. This is the third time he’s jabbed him in the eye since they started.
“Why did you ask me to do makeup for you?” Kirishima asks. He stops for a moment, settling his hands on Bakugou’s chest. Bakugou is lying on the floor in the common area, and Kirishima is sitting on top of him with a bag of makeup they borrowed from Mina sitting next to them. Kirishima’s already forced Bakugou to paint his nails orange, but they didn’t even finish because Bakugou kept getting angry when he went out of line. So now Kirishima has orange fingers, and Bakugou’s eyeliner is crooked and uneven.
“I’m trying something,” Bakugou snaps. “So stop asking dumb fucking questions and learn how to do your damn job.”
Kirishima purses his lips and uncaps the eyeliner again. He’s never done eyeliner in his life. He’s not sure why Bakugou trusted him to do this. “Okay, but you could have just asked Ashido –”
“Do you think I want to hang out with Raccoon Eyes? Fuck no. Just hurry up before I – what the hell are you looking at?”
“Oh fuck. Oh shit. I’m sorry.”
Kirishima looks up, eyeliner cap in between his teeth, then grins and waves at Jirou, who is standing behind the couch looking utterly mortified. Her eyes are wide, her skin pale. She takes a hesitant step back toward the stairs.
“Hey, Jirou! I didn’t hear you come in,” he says. “You wanna come over and help me do Bakugou’s eyeliner? Yours looks really good. I feel like you’d have some really good pointers for me.”
“Um…” Jirou chews on her bottom lip and adjusts her bag strap on her shoulder. “I don’t want to interrupt you guys. I think I’ll just meet Momo in the library instead…”
Kirishima frowns but nods in understanding. “Okay, but there’s plenty of room if you decide it’s too stuffy in there for you. Does this look okay?” He points to the sloppy line he’s drawn on Bakugou’s left eye, and Jirou glances at him, her cheeks turning a bright pink.
“It’s…” She dares to take a step forward, leaning over the couch to get a better look, then shrugs. “It’s fine, for your first try. You might want to watch some makeup tutorials to get a better understanding of what you’re doing. Try making it just a little bit thicker so they’ll look more even.” She smiles, twirling her earphone jack around her finger. “Good luck. See you guys later.”
“See ya!” Kirishima waves. “Thanks for the advice.”
She stops at the door, fists clenched and cheeks still red, but there’s something on her face that is unreadable, something she is trying to hide. Finally, she sighs and says, “I’m so glad you guys are happy.”
“Thanks!” Kirishima exclaims as Bakugou’s hand slides up and wraps around his hip, his nails digging sharply into his skin to get his attention.
Something flutters in Kirishima’s stomach, but he fights it down as he works to make the eyeliner thicker on Bakugou’s left eye.
X
Bakugou’s got blood on his cheek. It’s not enough to be alarming, barely enough to be noticed, but Kirishima still licks his thumb and wipes it off.
Aoyama wrinkles his nose and disappears from the bleachers, muttering something in French that sounds very angry and very rude.
X
“Mr. Aizawa requested that I go over the dormitory rules with you once again,” Iida says to the class in the commons, “since there have been some misunderstandings and a few incidents that have made some people, ah…uncomfortable. The first rule is about PDA. Does anyone want to refresh us on the rules about PDA? Bakugou?”
“Fuck off, Four Eyes,” Bakugou says as he scrolls on his phone. He’s practically sitting in Kirishima’s lap on the floor. “As if any of that shit applies to me.”
Iida blanches a little and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Kirishima murmurs a quiet “sorry” and brushes Bakugou’s hair out of his eyes. Bakugou leans into his touch but keeps his eyes firmly locked on his phone. “It can apply to several people,” Iida says. “Midoriya…Todoroki…Uraraka…” He swallows hard, eyes scanning over their class until his gaze settles on Bakugou again. “PDA is strongly discouraged when on campus, especially in the classroom. As pro heroes in training, we strive –”
“Do you ever take your own fucking advice?” Bakugou asks, tossing his phone to the side. “Because it seems to me like you’ve forgotten that we’re all subjected to your disgusting, shitty excuse for flirting every time that pink-haired freak comes around. Why talk to us like we’re five years old when you can’t even follow the rules yourself, you self-righteous hypocrite?”
Iida opens his mouth and stutters out some sort of garbled noise, to which Uraraka responds with a halfhearted, “He’s got a point, Iida.”
And that’s the end of that discussion. For now.
X
Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Bakugou’s waist and his chin resting on his shoulder as Yaomomo discusses strategy with their team. Ojiro and Tokoyami are there too, though it seems Ojiro is trying to keep to the shadows, and Tokoyami is the shadows. Not that that makes him invisible or anything, because every once in a while he clears his throat very loudly and obnoxiously, and Yaomomo has to stop talking for a long, awkward second before starting again. Kirishima’s not quite sure what’s going on, but after the fifth time, Bakugou finally explodes.
“Do you need some fucking water?” he yells, rounding on Tokoyami with his fists clenched and tiny explosions popping off of his skin. “You’re driving me up the damn wall.”
“You’re driving all of us up the damn wall,” Tokoyami hisses. “Did you really not listen to anything Iida said –”
“Does it look like I listen to anything that comes out of that asshole’s mouth?”
“Boys,” Yaomomo says sternly, though there is a waver to her voice that, by Bakugou’s standards, makes her lose all her credibility. “Let’s just calm down and talk about what needs to be done to take down the other team. And maybe…stay in our own personal bubbles. Is that okay?”
“No fucking problem,” Bakugou says. His hand finds Kirishima’s anyway. There’s hardly a time when they aren’t holding hands anymore.
X
“Hey, Ei? Can you grab me a beer while you’re over there?”
Midoriya nearly spews his own beer out of his nose, making him choke. Bakugou glances over at him with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, and as Midoriya is spluttering and drowning in his own mess of alcohol, Bakugou says, “Damn it, Deku, you can’t even drink a beer correctly. Why am I not surprised?”
Midoriya finishes coughing, his eyes bloodshot and his cheeks dusted red, then says, “S-sorry, Kacchan. I’ve just never heard you call him by his first name, much less a nickname. I mean, I knew you guys were close, but I didn’t think it had progressed so far –”
“Yeah? That’s what happens when you actually have friends. Not that you would know anything about that.”
Midoriya’s eyes widen, and Kirishima settles on the floor next to Bakugou, opening his beer can for him before handing it off. Bakugou readjusts himself so that his feet are in Kirishima’s lap, and he picks up the video game controller in front of him. “Now, are you gonna let me kick your ass in Mario Kart or not?”
X
Kirishima invites Kaminari to the coffee shop with him and Bakugou for a study session right before their finals. Kaminari declines, much to his dismay. They’ve always studied for finals together.
“It’s just that I don’t wanna intrude, you know?” Kaminari says, which is totally out of character for him because he has absolutely no awareness for when he’s intruding on anything.
“You’re not intruding on anything,” Kirishima assures him. “That’s why I’m inviting you. We’re bros, remember? We gotta help each other out in times like these.”
So Kaminari agrees, because he knows there’s no way in hell he’s passing without Bakugou’s help. He just doesn’t show up alone. “I didn’t want to be the third wheel,” he says. “You guys know Shinsou.”
Bakugou eyes the newest member of their class with the distaste of someone staring at a pile of shit, then says, “I’m going to find us a table.”
“Okay,” Kirishima says. “I’ll grab your drink for you.”
Bakugou tries to hand him money, but Kirishima politely declines, and Kaminari follows Kirishima to the counter to place his order. “Dude, I never thought Bakugou would let anyone do that for him,” Kaminari remarks, once they’ve ordered their drinks.
Kirishima frowns in confusion. “Do what for him?”
“Buy his drink. Like, he just acts so alpha all the time –”
“He loves when I buy stuff for him.”
“Maybe we should all just accept that Bakugou’s soft when he’s in a relationship,” Shinsou says with a slight smirk, and Kirishima laughs.
Then realizes he doesn’t understand the joke. “Wait, what?”
Their drinks are ready before Shinsou has a chance to explain himself, and over the course of the next few minutes with Bakugou yelling at all of them for being stupid, Kirishima forgets entirely about Shinsou’s remark. It was probably nothing.
X
“So obviously you have to bring a date,” Yaomomo explains as she hands out invitations to a dinner party at her family estate. “Even if it’s just a friend date. My parents are all about appearances, so you guys better start partnering up right now. Obviously Hagakure and Ojiro are going together, and Bakugou and Kirishima –”
“Hold on,” Bakugou says. He’s holding his invitation with its fancy golden script and Yaoyorozu family seal on it, but it looks like he wants to set it on fire. “Why the hell do you think me and Kirishima are going together?”
Yaomomo purses her lips and looks around the room for some sort of assistance, and Ashido proudly interjects, “Because you guys are dating, duh.”
Kirishima isn’t sure who has the bigger reaction – him or Bakugou – but he’s laughing, and Bakugou is yelling, and they’re both vehemently talking over one another in an incoherent jumble before Kirishima finally gets out, “Why would you guys think we’re dating?” and Bakugou says, “Why the hell would I date someone that looks like that?”
“We’re not dating,” Kirishima says – first to his classmates, who are all looking at him like he’s the biggest piece of shit liar on earth – and then to Bakugou, who is sitting next to him holding his hand and playing with his hair and –
Oh.
Oh.
Kirishima goes through the five stages of grief all at once, because how the hell could he have been so stupid, so blind, when literally everyone in their class had seen it? All those remarks, all the times they looked mildly uncomfortable, all the times Kaminari referred to himself as a “third wheel” or used the phrase “bros before hos.”
Wow.
Wow.
Okay.
Kirishima was dating Bakugou.
“Holy shit,” he says under his breath, and Bakugou’s eyes snap to meet his for a long, terrifying moment before the anger drops from his face and is replaced with startling realization.
“Holy shit,” he echoes.
X
“So,” Kirishima says as he tosses a rubber ball against the wall in Bakugou’s room. They’ve been sitting in silence for nearly half an hour, and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore. “We’re dating.”
“We can’t be dating,” Bakugou replies. He’s angry, pulling at loose threads on his bedsheets. He’s nearly ripped a hole in one of them. “People who are dating kiss and go on dates and hold hands and –”
“We do two out of three of those things.”
Bakugou scoffs. “We do not go on dates.”
“Come on, Bakugou. We go on weekend retreats together, we go to coffee shops, we have study dates, we spend the night in each other’s dorms all the time –”
“Friends do that. Don’t they? I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had a friend.”
Kirishima looks up at him and smiles sympathetically. “You don’t do that with all your other friends.”
Bakugou wrinkles his nose and curses under his breath as he continues to unravel his sheets. “Okay, so? People who are dating kiss, and I mean…well, you’ve never wanted to kiss me, right? So there’s that.”
“Yes, I have,” Kirishima admits, and oh god, it’s news even to him. He’d spent so many months suppressing it that when he sees the alarm on Bakugou’s face, he knows it reflects the expression on his own. “Shit. Sorry. But yeah, I have. I’ve thought about it.” He pauses, chewing the inside of his lip, then asks, “Have you ever wanted to kiss me?”
“Fuck no,” Bakugou replies. “Why would I do that to myself? You probably kiss like a fucking maniac, all those sharp teeth and shit.” He frowns, stares down at his bed. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind trying it…”
Kirishima swallows, wondering if he’s expected to make the first move. Obviously. Bakugou’s pride is far too much for him to succumb to feelings first. He sighs. Fine. It’s fine. He’s not going to pretend it isn’t annoying, how Bakugou pretends like he isn’t interested, but it really doesn’t matter because with him sitting there and brooding right now, he’s really cute, and Kirishima really, really wants to kiss him.
So he does.
Bakugou resists at first, jerking away like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he relaxes, and Kirishima kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until he’s breathless and Bakugou’s cheeks are pink and their lips are red and swollen and wet and Bakugou’s got his hands on him and pulling him closer and god he doesn’t even want to pull away long enough to breathe because this is everything he had hoped for it to be and more. Bakugou is rough and angry and demanding, and he tastes like caramel and smoke. He guides Kirishima exactly where he wants him to go and opens himself up so willingly that Kirishima knows he’s been thinking about doing this as long as he has, maybe even longer. His hands travel over Kirishima’s arms, down his chest, settling on his waist, and they only break apart briefly as Bakugou crawls closer to him, holding him so tightly he might not ever let go.
And Kirishima’s okay with that. It’s fine. It’s normal.
Bakugou is the first to pull away. His eyes are closed and his breathing is heavy, and he rests his sweaty head against Kirishima’s shoulder for several minutes as they hold each other and take it all in. Kirishima’s heart is racing, and it feels like everything that’s been going on in his life is finally clicking into place. It’s all so clear now.
“Hey,” he whispers, running his hand through Bakugou’s hair as he smiles. “I really, really like you.”
Bakugou huffs out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Yeah. I guess you’re not so bad either.”