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Bakugou didn’t know what he had been expecting when he had marched into Kirishima’s apartment that morning with the intention of asking for the lint roller that his neighbor had borrowed back.
But whatever it was that he was fucking expecting, it definitely wasn’t the sight that he stumbled upon just now.
Right in front of very eyes, there was some greasy haired asshole sprawled down on a futon down on the floor beside Kirishima’s bed, and they were both still sound asleep, oblivious to the growing storm watching them dumbfoundedly.
And then, the storm started bubbling up, stewing fumes until it had ultimately erupted in a loud yell. “What the fuck?!”
At his outburst, the mysterious man who was occupying the futon had started to stir, sitting up and lifting an arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Ugh, what’s with all the noise so early in the morning?” Greasy hair complained, his eyes wandering around the room, looking for the source of the noise and landing his gaze into the spot where Bakugou was at, understanding quickly settling in.
The greasy haired fuck had the gall to fucking smirk at him as he greeted him. “Why, hello there.”
Seriously, what the fucking hell is this asshole’s deal?!
He was moments away from exploding at the asshole, and he sure as hell would’ve done so had there not been another voice which had piped up all of a sudden:
“H-Huh, what’s going on?” Kirishima sat up, casting his bleary eyes around them both. “Oh, it’s just Tomo and Bakugou…”
The redhead proceeded to lay his ass back down on the bed after making that profound observation, but then realization seemed to have sunk in moments later because his friend had sprung up from the bed, scarlet eyes widening as big as saucers in his surprise.
“B-Bakugou, what are you doing over here?” Kirishima questioned, and he hated the way his eyes had immediately zeroed in on his neighbor’s cute ass bedhead.
Recomposing himself, even though his stupid flush was still present, Bakugou countered back, “I should be the one asking you. Why the fuck is there a random greasy haired extra sleeping here in your house?”
Amidst Greasy Hair’s protests in the background about how his hair wasn’t greasy, Kirishima chuckled, awkwardly running a hand to rub through neck sheepishly. “Well, about that, I can explain.”
“Go ahead and explain then.” Bakugou said, but then he saw how Greasy hair was looking at him with an annoying ass grin which he couldn’t fucking stand and so he intentionally added in a loud voice for the extra to hear, “Somewhere more fuckin’ private, maybe?”
“That’s fine with me.” Kirishima agreed, turning to address Greasy hair apologetically. “Sorry Tomo, would it be alright if you give Bakugou and I some space for a while?”
“Sure, let me know when you guys are done talking, Ei-chan.” The very last bit this ‘Tomo’ had said was the only thing which had stuck, replaying over and over again as if it was on loop-
Ei-chan.
It was just a name. Hell, he was still called ‘Kacchan’ by his annoying old childhood friend, for crying out loud! so he couldn’t exactly be one to judge others on their names.
Still, though, just something about Kirishima being called such a name makes him uneasy, making him want to rip the name off of Greasy Hair’s lips with his fists.
“ ‘You okay, Bakugou?” his sullen mood must have been damn obvious because Kirishima had instantly picked up on it, leaning over to him and placing an arm around his shoulder in assurance. But that might also because he’s Kirishima Eijirou, the most understanding and emotionally perceptive man he had the luxury of ever meeting in his damn life.
With Kirishima around, he could always count on someone to be able to look past the walls he had built, as well as for someone to help him lighten up whenever he was in his shitty sulky moods.
The latter of which was coming into effect at this moment, with just Kirishima’s overall sunshiny presence, Bakugou could already feel some of his annoyance withering away, and it’s fucking weird how that was the case.
“I’m fine.” This was one of the times he was grateful Kirishima was as dense as a pile of rocks because his face was burning with a bright blush just by their close proximity. “ ‘Just hurry and start explaining already.”
It was stupid how his heart had instantly deflated in disappointment the moment Kirishima had let him go so that could begin his tale, but he didn’t dwell on it for long as Kirishima had started talking.
“Um so yesterday I was on my way to buy groceries, and that was when I saw him—Tomo, looking all upset as he was walking along the streets.” Kirishima frowned, most probably recalling how sad this ‘Tomo’ had looked, and it makes him fucking hate Greasy Hair even more now for being the cause of that sad expression on the redhead’s face.
The rest of the fucking story was easy to predict seeing as he already knows his neighbor far too well at this point in time, so he took a guess “Then you fucking went and invited him to live in your house because you’re too damn nice for your own good?”
“I just couldn’t not reach out to him. He said that his apartment got caught on fire some days ago when he was cooking, and he had nowhere to go while he’s out on the lookout to find somewhere else to move.” Kirishima asserted. “Hearing that, how could I just let him go without lending him a hand?”
“Yeah, yeah… I get it. You don’t have to fuckin’ defend yourself too much.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let some of his jealousy show in his next sentence. “You just couldn’t stand seeing your fuckin’ boyfriend sad is all.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Kirishima vehemently denied, his cheeks flushing when he said the next part, “Well, not anymore…”
“Not anymore? What, did the bastard do anything to you?!” Bakugou growled in anger. “Did he fuckin’ cheat on you or- “
“No, it’s nothing like that. Tomo isn’t that kind of guy who’d do something like that!” Kirishima interrupted, jumping into Greasy Hair’s defense. “It’s a mutual thing. We had both decided we’d work better as friends instead.”
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he took in the information. “Tch, it’s a good thing, then.”
“Huh, why?”
Mindlessly, he reached out and grasped Kirishima’s spiky mane in his hand. “Because if that asshole had hurt even the tiniest bit of your shitty hair, you wouldn’t be seeing him around anymore.”
“Y-You don’t have to do that, bro!” He could feel Kirishima leaning onto his hold a bit as he protested. “Like I said, Tomo is a good dude. He’d never hurt me and I- promise me something, ok?”
“What?”
“I don’t know how long he’d be staying here.” Kirishima said, looking into his eyes pleadingly as he continued, “But, at least until then, please be nice to my ex-boyfriend. I don’t want him to feel unwelcomed. He had already been through enough these last few days.”
And he must have been growing really soft, because one look at Kirishima’s imploring face had him immobilized and unable to grit out anything other than a strained “Fine.”
Then, he was pulled into a grateful hug moments later which got his heart making shitty somersaults in his chest, as Kirishima muttered next to his ear “Thanks, you’re the best, bro!”
Kirishima released him moments later, inviting him to eat breakfast with him and Tomo. And still dazed from the embrace, he nodded and agreed without really thinking.
But, well, it’s not too fucking bad. It’s just eating breakfast together. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?
```
Turns out, he was fucking mistaken.
Greasy Hair had apparently chosen breakfast to make his ‘first impression’ on the blond, and it’s already not going well so far.
For the lack of a better word, within the span of only an hour, Greasy Hair had established himself as possibly the most insufferable person he had ever known which was impressive considering all the presence of other pesky extras in his life.
To say that Greasy Hair talks a lot would be an understatement, he was a goddamn noisy bitch and couldn’t seem to shut up— going from talking about what happened to his destroyed home to yapping about who knows what.
Bakugou didn’t even bother listening to the second part since he had enough of the guy, and could honestly care less about him.
It was only when he heard his name being mentioned that his attention was piqued.
“So, tell me Bakugou-kun, how did you come to meet Ei-chan over here?”
At the question, both his and Kirishima’s heads swivel up to see Greasy Hair’s curious face staring back at them.
‘Mind your own damn fucking business.’ was what he would have wanted to say had his promise to the redhead not been holding him back, and so he had begrudgingly responded back with “My idiot of a neighbor over here decided to wake me up one night just so he could use my balcony to climb back to his apartment.”
“Pfft, Ei-chan, what the hell!” Greasy Hair snickered, thumping Shitty Hair over on his back, and throwing an arm around him. “I see that you’re still the same as ever!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kirishima questioned, pouting fucking cutely at his ex-boyfriend.
“It means you’re as charming as ever.” Greasy Hair then had the fucking nerve to prod and poke at Kirishima’s cheek. “In fact, it seems that you’ve only been growing cuter and cuter.”
“Tomo, stop teasing me!” Kirishima flushed at that, something which had irked the fuck out of him because it wasn’t how things were supposed to work. To see Kirishima blush and react like that, by someone who wasn’t him, it felt so fucking wrong.
He hadn’t even noticed that he had loosen his grip on his chopsticks until they had fallen to the ground in a loud clatter.
At the sound of his chopsticks falling, both men turned their attention to him, and he coughed a bit in retaliation. “Don’t fuckin’ flirt when we’re eating.”
“Oops, I made the boyfriend upset.” Greasy Hair promptly backed away from Kirishima, the only good thing he had done so far. “Sorry, I forgot you were here as well.”
“H-He’s not my boyfriend!” Kirishima was only saying the truth, yet it still somehow stung at the same time.
Greasy Hair hmmed upon hearing what Kirishima had said, then he turned his eyes to scan Bakugou’s face for his expression, seconds later some sort of understanding appeared to have dawned within him. “Ah, I see.”
And he didn’t fuckin’ like it— the way this Tomo could just see through him even if they had just fucking met, so he knows he had to leave before he could feel even more exposed. “I’m leavin’. I have work in an hour.”
“Crap, I’m late for work!” Kirishima exclaimed in alarm at the reminder of his work, shooting himself up from the chair, and frantically moving around his house in a rapid pace to get himself prepared to go to work.
Finally, a couple minutes later, Kirishima emerged back to the living room with a change a change of proper clothes and his hair all gelled up in his shitty hairstyle.
“Sorry Tomo, but I gotta go.” Kirishima pocketed his wallet and grabbed his bag, turning to his ex-boyfriend apologetically. “Would you be alright here by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine.” Greasy Hair waved off Kirishima’s concern nonchalantly, but then his eyes had colored with amusement as he addressed Bakugou. “Hmm but maybe I might need your number, Bakugou-kun?”
“Hah, the fuck you need my number for?” Bakugou snarled, trying to keep his irritation from showing too much.
“It’s for emergencies.” Greasy Hair replied, pulling out his phone. “Ei-chan won’t always be around, so it’d be best if I keep in contact with you in case something happens.”
Reluctantly, he whipped his phone out as well to give his number to Greasy Hair. “You better only call me only if there are actual fucking emergencies.”
“ ‘Will do.” Greasy Hair swore, pocketing back his phone, and Bakugou could only hope that the other man would really have abided with what he had just said.
```
He should have known…
He should have fucking known that Greasy Hair is a shitty fuckin’ liar.
It had been nearly a week since he made the mistake of giving his number to the shitty asshole, and he was rewarded by the presence of a plethora of useless fucking text messages flooding up his phone.
Those messages were the most unimportant shit he had ever fucking received. Ranging from shit like ‘Ei-chan said he’s busy so I’m bored’ to even more insubstantial things like ‘It’s so hot today. The weather is killing me.’
Long story short, the messages were driving him fucking crazy and he was very much tempted to just send a middle finger to all them and block the greasy haired bitch.
But, the request ‘Please be nice to my ex-boyfriend.’ had rang through his mind, a reminder he ought to fulfill.
So, he exhaled a few times, mustering the most patience he could have, and did his best to just ignore the messages whenever they’re sent.
That was the routine— Greasy Hair would send him some kind of nonsensical message, and he’d do his best to not even acknowledge it. It was an annoying fucking test to his nonexistence composure and it took a lot not to burst into a rage each time.
Yet, miraculously, he was able to look past the messages with an amount of restraint he didn’t know he had.
He didn’t know how he was doing it, but he wasn’t complaining. It was working, after all, and he was surviving the hell Greasy Hair was putting him through.
At least it was, until one day— Bakugou was at work, doing his shitty paperwork when his phone had chimed in his pocket, signaling that he had gotten a new message.
Sighing, he unlocked his phone and steeled himself for whatever fucking nonsense that he was about to receive.
Only this time, it wasn’t just a message which was sent to him. Rather, it was a picture of Kirishima and Greasy Hair eating at some barbecue place.
It was an innocuous picture but underneath was a caption in the text message ‘The barbecue tastes amazing. I wonder if Ei-chan’s lips would make the taste better, though?’
He could feel muscles tensing, his teeth clenching and it was difficult to hear anything else but the rate of his heart beating more intensely, a familiar feeling of anger clawing at his very being.
His hands were moving at a rapid speed before the more rational part of his mind could take control, typing out the words ‘Fuck off🖕’ and hitting send.
The response was instantaneous:
From Greasy Haired Fuckface: So that’s what it takes for you to reply, huh?
With his anger on the rise from the response he had gotten, he couldn’t help himself from replying back:
To Greasy Haired Fuckface: Go fuck yourself!
Not wanting to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him get riled up, Bakugou turned off his phone and started channeling all his anger in his work, furiously typing down on his keyboard.
Seeing his bad mood, his childhood friend and co-worker, Deku called out to him in concern “K-Kacchan, are you feeling okay there?”
At that moment, he was not feeling okay at all. He had felt like screaming and blowing up at something, but he couldn’t do all that right now— not to Deku, who definitely doesn’t deserve being vented on, especially after all the shit he had put the green haired man through all these years.
So, he sucked in a breath and did his best to calmly cover up traces of his anger. “I’m fine, nerd. ‘Just feelin’ a bit fuckin’ peachy is all.”
“O-Oh sorry about that, I just assumed because you uh-” He had rolled his eyes over the way Deku had stumbled over his words, but his childhood friend then whipped out a very familiar line he had heard from him before in their screwed up past. “You looked like you needed help.”
If this was in the past, these words wouldn’t have gone well as they would’ve been met with scathing acts of bitterness. But, over the years, he had worked on that part of himself and could now look past his initial assumptions to see the good intentions for how they were-
They were just acts of kindness from a friend who wanted to help.
Perhaps he was selfish because he didn’t fuckin’ deserve the help after everything he had done to his old friend, or maybe it was due to a tinge of regret for their past. But, for some fucked up reason, he instinctively accepted the hand offering him the kindness he wanted at the very moment.
```
Thus, here they both were— seated down on a bench as Bakugou ranted about the greasy haired asshole and his oblivious thickheaded neighbor as Deku had remained silent and lent him a listening ear.
“It’s so stupid. I basically already confessed to the idiot, but he still didn’t fucking get it!” Bakugou growled, thinking back to the night he borrowed his neighbor’s HDMI. He remembered how the ‘confession’ had slipped off of his lips almost impulsively; how he hesitated explaining what he had meant because he was a fuckin’ coward who didn’t wanna possibly ruin things between them.
“So, um, why not try confessing to him again?” Deku piped up in the middle of his ranting with his suggestion. “I’m sure he’d understand it this time. You mentioned him saying so himself, right?”
“Yeah, but what’s the fucking use now that he has Greasy Hair around?” Bakugou scoffed, unable to stop some bitterness from leaking into his voice. “That asshole kept fuckin’ flirting with him. For all I know, they’re probably back as a couple again, and I’m fucking too late to tell him how I feel.”
“Kacchan, I think you’re just over assuming things at this point.” Deku said, a thoughtful look on his face. “By how you’re describing him, he doesn’t seem like the type who would pursue a relationship with someone he said works better as a friend.”
“He could always have a fuckin’ change of heart.” Bakugou insisted, clenching his fist in frustration. “That Greasy Hair is sneaky as fuck, so you never fuckin’ know.”
“Even if that’s the case, didn’t you say that you had promised him you would explain to him your ‘confession’ again in the future? I don’t think he’d appreciate it if you just change your mind like that.” It didn’t even take a minute for him to understand what Deku was trying to do, and he had to admit the nerd knew full damn well what he was doing because his competitive ass couldn’t not rise to bait of a challenge.
“Who the hell says that I’d be changing my mind?!” Bakugou rose from his seat, determination set into stone in his face as he declared “I’ll be confessing my shitty feelings to Shitty Hair in no time!”
“Good luck, Kacchan! I’m sure it’ll go great.” was the only thing Deku could say to that, rising from the bench as well. “Anyway, I think it’s best if we head back now. Yagi-san might already be looking for us.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” The blond grumbled under his breath, yet followed through with what his childhood friend had suggested anyway.
Their journey back to the office was peaceful, a companionable silence between them as they walked side by side. Until it was broken when Bakugou spoke out “Izuku.”
At that, Deku stopped walking to stare at him with slight surprise to question him. “What is it?”
He supposed it was only a natural reaction. It was rare for him to call the other by his actual name, after all, but he was grateful and did his best to express it so with a soft mumbled “Thanks.”
Deku’s resulting grin was so fucking annoying that he couldn’t help but nudge the other on the side to silence it, and the nerd’s responding yelp was gratifying to say the least even if the green haired man still kept that dumb fuckin’ smile on his face.
```
“Kirishima, open the fuck up!” Bakugou knocked on his neighbor’s door that evening.
It was an unusual thing for him to do. Normally, he’d have no qualms just barging in the redhead’s apartment, but he didn’t want to have a fuckin’ repeat of what happened the last time he entered the place without knocking, so he had no other choice but to wait.
Though, it turns out that he didn’t have to wait for long because the door soon opened to reveal someone who he wasn’t all that fuckin’ pleased to see.
“Can I help you with anything, neighbor?” Stupid fucking Greasy Hair smiled innocently as if he hadn’t pulled the stunt earlier with the picture.
Reminding himself that he needed to be ‘nice’ to this asshole, Bakugou did his best to keep his voice neutral. “I need to talk to Kirishima.”
“He’s still out taking a shower.” Greasy Hair remarked, and that was when the blond had noticed the sound of shower going off behind the closed door. “He should probably be done in a couple minutes though. And while we wait for him, let me just ask you something. “
The blond raised his eyebrows at that, a bad feeling washed over him then on what the other might say. “ ‘The fuck you want to ask?”
“It’s nothing much. I was just wondering if the picture I sent over to you earlier was too much?” Greasy Hair still had his innocent fucking grin on his face, tempting him all the more to punch the shit out of him. “If that was the case, I just wanted you to know that I don’t mean any harm and that I have good intentions with what I did.”
Bakugou couldn’t help but gawk at what the other had said and he questioned, stupefied. “What fuckin’ good intentions do you have in annoying the fuck out of me?”
“I’m helping you out.” To say Greasy Hair’s justification left him confused was an understatement, but then it all made sense when the other clarified, “You like Ei-chan, right? I’m just trying to get you guys together, that’s all there is to it.”
“I never asked for your fuckin’ help.” It was unlike him but he couldn’t even bring himself to deny his feelings for his redheaded neighbor to the goddamn bastard, and he couldn’t lie that just that fact alone sorta scares the shit out of him. “I’ve got it all covered on my damn own.”
“I wanted to do the best I can to help.” Greasy Hair affirmed, his smile faltering at his next sentence, “I need to make sure Ei-chan gets the love he deserves… even if it’s not from me.”
Upon hearing the last bit, the blond could feel his breath stopping in his throat, but he was able to voice the undeniable truth nonetheless. “You still like him.”
“Hmm, who knows…” Greasy Hair might be trying his best to be all fuckin cryptic, but it’s damn fuckin’ obvious where his feelings still lie, and the blond was just about to call him out on his bullshit when the door suddenly bursts open-
“What are you guys doing out here?” Kirishima had decided to make his appearance, a towel wrapped around his neck, his clueless expression made it obvious that he hadn’t caught wind of their conversation.
“Your boyfriend was waiting for you and I decided to keep him company.” Greasy Hair replied, teasing smirk back on his face as if their conversation had never fucking happened.
Kirishima’s face bloomed in a pretty red blush. “Tomo! I already told you, he’s not my boyfriend!”
“You wanted him to be, though.” Greasy Hair countered, and now it wasn’t just Kirishima blushing this time, Bakugou was sure that his cheeks were just as red alongside a wave of happiness which had coursed through his body at the prospect of Kirishima wanting him to be his boyfriend. “Say, why don’t you two lovebirds spend the night at his place? I don’t wanna be a third wheel to you guys.”
“Tch, I don’t need you to tell me what to do, but that’s actually was a good fucking idea.” Bakugou hissed at Tomo before addressing his crush with a blush still present. “So, uh, are you for it, Shitty Hair? We haven’t hung out together in my place for a while now.”
“Of course!” Kirishima enthusiastically replied without any hesitation. “I’d never turn away from a chance to spend more time with you.”
It should be fucking illegal how Kirishima often had him tongue tied and at stumbling for words. “I-Fuck! I feel the same.”
Kirishima bit his lip, catching his gaze. “Bakugou, I- “
Greasy Haired cleared his throat, interrupting Kirishima from finishing what he was about to say. “You guys should probably not be doing all these romantic-stuff when I’m not here.”
The hidden message behind Greasy Hair’s words was easy to see, just by slight down casted expression which had decorated his face for a few seconds, but Bakugou caught the message all the same-
It must’ve been fuckin’ painful to see someone you like getting all close to someone else.
Maybe it was an act of uncharacteristic generosity, but whatever it fucking was had driven him to grab Kirishima by the arm, urging him. “Let’s go, no more dilly dallying. It’s fuckin’ hot over here out in the hallway.”
“Right, let’s go.” Kirishima agreed, letting himself be tugged along the way towards Bakugou’s apartment though not before smiling up at his ex-boyfriend. “See you tomorrow, I guess, Tomo.”
“Have a good night, you two!” Greasy Hair waved them both off cheerily, and then when Kirishima wasn’t looking, sent the blond a thumbs up.
For the first time, the act didn’t fill him with irritation and left him feeling rather neutral. And, with a newfound respect he had never thought he’d gain for the other, he returned the act with a respectable nod of thanks.
```
They were watching a documentary about Sharks. But, for some fucking reason, Kirishima didn’t seem quite as enthused to see them swimming on the screen as he was in the past.
Usually, the redhead would be over the moon, gushing over how manly the Sharks were being, so something was definitely up right now with Kirishima.
Pausing the documentary, he paid no mind to the protests coming from the redhead that he ‘was watching’, and turned to confront him. “ ’The fuck is on your mind to make you act weird as hell?
“It’s nothing. It’s something silly.” Kirishma attempted to dismiss, moving forward to resume the documentary, but Bakugou had grasped his arm, preventing him from doing so.
“ S’ not fuckin’ silly, if it’s clearly bothering you.” Bakugou countered in retaliation. “So, spill whatever the fuck is making you feel shitty.”
“I-It’s just you and Tomo seem close,” Kirishima was staring down at his knees, his eyebrows knitted a bit. “And I was just wondering if you both liked each other that way.”
What the actual hell?!
Of all the possible things which could have slipped from his neighbor’s mouth, the blond certainly wasn’t expecting to heard what must’ve been the most absurd shit concept he had ever heard.
Apparently, Kirishima had taken his stunned silence as a gesture that his assumptions were correct because his frown had deepened ever so slightly for a second before vanishing in an instant as he said next, “Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m happy for you both. It’ll just take a while for me to accept because I- “
“You stupid dumb thick headed idiot!” It had taken a while for him to find his voice, but once he did— Bakugou found something within him had snapped, paving the way for him to reveal the words he had always longed to say. “I’ve been fuckin’ flirting with you for over a year, and you dare assume I have a fuckin’ thing for Greasy Hair?!”
“You were?” Being the dense shit he was, Kirishima acted like it was the news of the century then his eyes went wide in shock. “Wait a minute, oh my god, is this what you were trying to tell me on the day I lent you my HDMI?”
“What do you think, moron?!” The blond resisted the urge to whack Kirishima on the head. “Isn’t it fuckin’ obvious?!”
“Oh, but I was right though,” Kirishima remarked. “I did get it the second time you explained it to me so I’m not a complete idiot!”
“Only because I had practically already spelled it out for you!” Bakugou couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “Ugh why’d I have the luck of falling for such a dense fuckin’ idiot?”
“Sorry about that, dude.” Kirishima said apologetically, but then his face lit up all of a sudden. “But, hey, look at the bright side, at least this dense idiot likes you back.”
“I- You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, you know that, right?” Overly enraptured in the swarm of butterflies which had suddenly struck him, the blond didn’t even try covering up his soft smile.
“Are you talking about yourself?” Bakugou hadn’t noticed when or how, but apparently, the redhead got him pinned to the plush of the couch. “Because you’re a catch.”
“Damn right I am.” He huffed, his eyes inadvertently moving to scan along Kirishima’s gorgeous fuckin’ scarlet all the way down to his lips.
Kirishima followed his gaze then, roaming back up to his eyes to catch his gaze, asking him for silent permission to slot their lips together.
Eagerly, he nodded his head and Kirishima dove forward to kiss him.
The kiss was clumsy with their teeth clashing a lot of times, but it didn’t stop him from wholeheartedly welcoming the other’s soft lips as he kissed the other back with all the passion he could muster. And then he was overcome by the sensation of how Kirishima’s lips tasted like, cinnamon, like the tea he had offered Kirishima to drink earlier.
Unfortunately, they had to stop their kiss short since they both had to catch their breaths; something which had cursed to hell and back because he’d kiss Kirishima forever if he could.
When they parted, Kirishima was grinning down happily at him. “You know I was right.”
“What?”
Kirishima chuckled a bit as he said, “Your lips tasted like spice.”
“What? You couldn’t handle it?” Bakugou challenged with a sneer, amusement coating his voice.
“Of course, I could!” Kirishima declared and then he said with much resolution, “I’ll prove it to you, if you let me kiss you again. Are you fine with that?”
“Idiot, you didn’t have to ask.” Bakugou didn’t even his neighbor a chance to respond to that, tilting his head up for their lips to meet for the second time that day.
And much like the first kiss, it got him feeling like he had never wanted to let Kirishima go, if he could help it.
```
“Tomo, I’m gonna miss you.” He was doing his best to not get jealous with the way Kirishima was embracing his ex-boyfriend goodbye. “I didn’t know how much I needed a roommate until a few weeks ago when you moved in my place.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, Ei-chan.” Greasy Hair patted Kirishima on the back as their hug ended, a mischievous smile taking over his face as he said next, “But, you know, you could always move in with your boyfriend if you wanted a roommate.”
“I-We haven’t discussed that yet.” Kirishima blushed. “We’ve only been in a relationship in a week so yea- “
“No need to rush.” Greasy Hair said, hiking his bag further up his shoulder. “You guys have all the time you need to take it slowly.”
“ ‘You don’t have to say the fuckin’ obvious like that, Greasy Hair.” Bakugou grumbled. “And shouldn’t you get going? Aren’t you gonna have to meet your landlord soon?”
Greasy Hair grinned teasingly at him then. “You gonna miss me, Bakugou-kun?”
“ ‘Course not. You’re annoying as hell.” Bakugou spat out. “And maybe then, you’d stop fuckin’ spamming my damn messages all the time.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Greasy Hair responded with mirth in his voice. “Your reactions were amusing.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou’s voice flared in irritation. “ ‘Just leave already!”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Greasy Hair grabbed hold of all of his bags. “Take care then, Bakugou-kun.”
“You too.” Bakugou muttered back, and they both watched Tomo walk away from them, waving at them a final time before he disappeared entirely.
“Thank god…” The blond said under his breath, but then he saw the way Kirishima’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Seeing this, he placed to rest on top of Kirishima’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Stop fuckin’ frowning like that. You’ll see him again.”
“I know, but it’s still hard to see him go.” Kirishima uttered with a hint of sadness before he cheered up a bit and said “Thanks.”
“Hah? For what?”
“For being nice to my ex-boyfriend during the whole time he stayed over.” Kirishima said which mace him stare at his boyfriend like he had grown two heads.
He was only ‘nice’ to the asshole until he sent the picture over to him that. After that, he couldn’t seem to hold back from lashing out at Greasy Hair from time to time.
How the heck was that ‘nice’?
“I wasn’t ‘nice’ to him.” Bakugou stated gruffly. “We butt heads from time to time.”
“Ah, but you guys get along well.” Kirishima smiled up to him widely. “I can see that you both became good friends.”
And his boyfriend was right, sort of.
They weren’t the closest of friends, but it’d be a fuckin’ lie to say he doesn’t enjoy the bastard’s company every once in a while. Sometimes they'd coexist without much problems and even hang out together when Kirishima wasn't around.
“He’s alright sometimes I guess.” Bakugou admitted begrudgingly, his mind going over the times he spent with the asshole from their first meeting wait-
“Shit.”
Kirishima looked over at him with concern at his sudden cursing. “What’s wrong?”
“I never fuckin’ got the lint roller you borrowed back.”