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It’s creeping past three in the morning when there’s a quiet knock on Hitoshi’s dorm room. He pauses his video game, squinting at his door, and yup, there it is again a light triple tap.
He drags on a hoodie, padding over to unlock the door, and blinks in surprise to find Kaminari Denki standing there, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. He’s in pajamas, hair tied in a messy ponytail, ruffled like he rolled straight out of bed and stumbled directly to Hitoshi’s room. Though lord knows why. Hitoshi knows Kaminari, but there’s no reason he should be at his door in the middle of the night. They’re not friends.
Hitoshi only joined class 3A a couple of months ago at the start of the year. He spent the last two years in class B, but considering Aizawa has been doing most of his training, Principal Nedzu finally agreed that it made more sense for Hitoshi to be in his class than in Vlad’s. Even though there technically wasn’t a seat available.
“Kaminari? Uh, what’s up?”
“Hi, um…” Kaminari caves in on himself a little, glancing around like someone might see him at Hitoshi’s door. “Can I come in? I need a favor.”
“Sure,” Hitoshi says slowly, opening the door further, and Kaminari slips inside.
“Thanks.”
Kaminari stares wide-eyed at Hitoshi’s room, and he resists the urge to start tidying it under such close scrutiny. He does kick a stray pile of clothes under his bed, dropping onto the mattress as he clicks his reading light on so it’s more than just his TV screen lighting the room.
The silence drags on as Kaminari wanders the room, inspecting the objects on Hitoshi’s shelves before stopping in front of his TV, examining the paused screen.
“Tears of the Kingdom? Sweet. How far are you?”
“I’ve already beaten it. I’m just unlocking the achievements now,” Hitoshi says, arching an eyebrow as Kaminari snags his controller, unpausing the game to look around. “Did…did you come over here to play video games?”
“Oh, nah, man,” Kaminari says, flipping through Hitoshi’s inventory. “I came over to ask you to use your quirk on me.”
Hitoshi’s spine straightens at that, narrowing his eyes at Kaminari, except he’s still staring at the screen with an air of practiced casualness. “You what?”
Kaminari isn’t the first to ask. People have come up with all sorts of creative reasons for why they want him to use it on them. Most of it just boils down to curiosity, except for Midoriya, who seems intent on learning how to repeat what he’d done at the sports festival and break free of Hitoshi’s hold. Those training sessions always drain Hitoshi. So much so that Aizawa has restricted them to Saturdays only because it started affecting Hitoshi’s other school work.
But three in the morning on a Tuesday is a weird time to be curious about someone’s quirk.
“Need help sleeping?” Hitoshi asks, making an educated guess, but Kaminari shakes his head. He moves Link back to the campfire on screen and pauses the game, finally turning to look at Hitoshi.
“No, um, well, it’s kinda like…training?” Kaminari says, biting his lip, fingers twisting in the hem of his hoodie.
“Training.”
“Yeah, cause I—” he hesitates, shuffling forward and lowering his voice like someone might be standing on Hitoshi’s balcony, spying on them. “I need help with my quirk.”
Hitoshi just stares at him. He can’t imagine how he can possibly help with Kaminari’s quirk. From what he’s seen in class and training, Kaminari has incredible control over it. His ability to generate stronger voltage without short-circuiting has increased massively since first-year, and Hitoshi hasn’t seen him even so much as accidentally static shock someone in ages.
“Kaminari, I’m really sorry, but I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“Right, yeah, sorry, okay,” Kaminari scrubs his face with his hands, patting his own cheeks like he’s hyping himself up to tell Hitoshi something big. “So you know how if I push myself too hard, I short circuit?”
“Yes?” He’s not sure where this is going, but Kaminari is clearly heading somewhere.
“Yeah, well, uh…everyone just thinks I get stupid, ya know, cause I’m all…” Kaminari mimes the dumbstruck look he gets when he overdoes it. “And then I come back, and it’s all haha funny. Denki’s such a goof.”
Kaminari makes a face at that, and Hitoshi wisely keeps his mouth shut because it’s clear Kaminari doesn’t enjoy that joke. Hitoshi isn’t surprised. Any joke like that has gotta get old fast when it’s your life.
“Except, that’s not what it’s like,” Kaminari says, staring at his slippers before he glances up at Hitoshi. “I mean, yeah, I get all goofy on the outside, but inside?” He taps the side of his head. “Inside, it’s still me.”
It takes Hitoshi a minute to connect the dots on what Kaminari is saying, but when he does, he leans forward in surprise and curiosity. “You’re aware the whole time?”
“Unfortunately,” Kaminari groans, dropping onto the bed beside Hitoshi with a sigh. He stares at his hands, chewing his lip and lost in thought.
“Does Aizawa know?”
Kaminari shakes his head, glancing at Hitoshi. “You’re the first person I’ve told. Like… ever.”
Hitoshi frowns at that. If Kaminari is telling anyone, it should be Aizawa, not him. “Why are you telling me?”
“When I blow a fuse, it’s like…I lose control of my body, I’m stuck in there, and I see all the dumb shit I’m doing, but I can’t stop it. I’m just trapped, and I freak out,” Kaminari explains, tugging at the strings of his hoodie as he stares at the floor. “When we sparred a couple of weeks ago, and you used your quirk on me, it felt the same way.”
Oh.
Hitoshi cringes. He remembers that day. Somehow, despite being at the same school for two years, he and Kaminari had never sparred against each other using their quirks. Hand-to-hand, sure, but with quirks? Never.
Kaminari had nearly fried Hitoshi before he’d gotten him to respond, and he’d sunk his quirk into him hard and fast to win the fight.
Then he’d felt Kaminari’s panic through the connection, raw and overwhelming, and he’d released him before anyone had even registered that Hitoshi had gotten him. At that moment, Kaminari knocked him out of the ring, and Aizawa declared him the winner. Afterward, Kaminari wouldn’t even look him in the eye, and refused to speak to him when Hitoshi approached him.
Hitoshi assumed he was pissed for getting caught in his quirk, embarrassed by his reaction. He didn’t realize it reminded Kaminari of his own quirk.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Hitoshi apologizes.
Kaminari twists in his seat, waving his hands frantically at him. “Oh! No no no, I didn’t come here for an apology. Like I said, I want you to do it again.”
Hitoshi frowns. “Again? I’m…I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“No, it’s a great idea!” Kaminari insists, shifting to sit cross-legged facing Hitoshi. “You can help me practice.”
“Kaminari…”
“No, listen,” Kaminari grabs Hitoshi’s hands, expression earnest. “With my quirk, if I push too far, I’m stuck there, and my brain just goes bonkers over it. It’s like…” he drops Hitoshi’s hands, fingers threading through his own hair as his face scrunches up, trying to describe the feeling. “Being claustrophobic, but like…in your own head. And when it happens, I have to just deal until it’s over. But if you put me under, you can pull me out whenever. I can ease into it, build up to longer and longer time until I don’t lose my shit anymore.”
“I—” Hitoshi wrinkles his nose, annoyed because it’s actually a really clever solution to Kaminari’s problem. Micro-exposure to the thing that’s wigging him out until he learns how to roll with it while his body reboots.
“It can be training for you too!” Kaminari says, perking up. “How long can you hold someone in your quirk right now?”
“Um, it depends on how distracted I am. If it’s all I’m focusing on? I dunno, couple hours?”
“Damn, that’s so cool.” Kaminari lets out an impressed whistle, eyebrows rising, and Hitoshi flushes, awkwardly shrugging as he stares at his hands. “Well, you can practice being distracted or something. Put me under, and you can like…” gold eyes flick across Hitoshi’s room and land on the gaming console. “You can play video games! Try to get the highest score you can while keeping me under.”
Aizawa has been telling Hitoshi he needs to work on multitasking with his quirk. It’s not that he can’t, but last week Aizawa made him run an obstacle course while trying to keep Tsu under his quirk. Hitoshi had broken his nose by sprinting straight into a wall, and Tsu ended up helping get him to Recovery Girl, trying not to laugh the whole way.
“Okay,” Hitoshi agrees after a minute, and Kaminari almost levitates from his seat in excitement. “But not in the middle of the night. And we’re telling Aizawa.”
Kaminari wilts, lip jutting out at Hitoshi’s conditions. “Do we have to?”
“Yes,” Hitoshi says firmly. He’s not going to endure Aizawa’s wrath a second time for unsanctioned quirk training, and he doesn’t care how much Kaminari doesn’t want to talk about it. Their teacher needs to know what’s going on. “Besides,”—Hitoshi adds, because Kaminari is still looking bummed—“Maybe he’ll give us extra credit for it.”
That does the trick, and Kaminari leaps up, throwing his arms around a startled Hitoshi before he bounds toward the door.
“Awesome! Thank you so much! You won’t regret it, I promise! And I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow. Or all next week or something!”
“Good night, Kaminari,” Hitoshi says pointedly, but a small smile tugs at his lips in the face of such pure enthusiasm.
“Yeah, yeah, night! Sweet dreams!”
———
“So, uh…how we doing this?” Kaminari asks, still standing awkwardly at the door of the training room, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Sit down, I guess?” Hitoshi says with a shrug, gesturing toward the ring in the center of the room. Kaminari doesn’t move from where he’s standing, lip caught in his teeth. “Something wrong?”
It’s been almost two weeks since Kaminari asked for Hitoshi’s help. Between exams, homework, training, class, and Kaminari chickening out about six times, it had taken most of that time to talk to Aizawa and get the okay to do this. Hitoshi hadn’t enjoyed ending up an unwilling witness to Kaminari getting scolded for not saying something sooner, but at least Aizawa signed off on it.
“Do we have to do it here?”
“It’s training, isn’t it?” Hitoshi retorts, abandoning Kaminari to sit down in the ring. After a few minutes of waffling, Kaminari shuffles over, dropping his bag on the floor before sitting in front of Hitoshi.
“Just feels weird,” Kaminari mutters, tugging his hood up over his head. “Someone could come in.”
“Yeah, and see us training. It’s so scandalous,” Hitoshi says with a smirk, and Kaminari rolls his eyes, but he manages a small smile, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I gu—”
Kaminari goes still as Hitoshi’s quirk snags him, and then Hitoshi drops it. Kaminari blinks in surprise.
“You good?”
“Yeah, that was, like, two seconds, dude.”
“You said start small,” Hitoshi points out. “Besides, first time’s always the worst. Now you’re past it.”
“That’s…” Kaminari trails off, scratching his nose as he smiles at Hitoshi. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Hitoshi leans back, propping himself on a hand as he cocks his head at Kaminari. “I’ll do it longer this time. You ready?”
Kaminari’s lips thin, and he tenses a little, but he nods, hands fisting in his lap.
“You have to answer me, Kaminari.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Do you need to ask another que—?”
There’s silence as Hitoshi counts to ten, and then he drops it. Kaminari sucks in a sharp breath, eyes a little wide.
“Again?” Hitoshi asks, but Kaminari shakes his head abruptly, pulling his knees up to press his face into them, arms wrapped around his head.
“Just um…gimme a minute,” he says quietly, voice wobbling, and Hitoshi’s stomach twists with guilt.
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” Kaminari orders, gold eyes peeking at Hitoshi over his arms. “I asked for this. It’s just…harder than I thought it would be.”
“Do you want to take a break?”
Kaminari shakes his head, uncurling until he’s sitting upright, taking a slow breath as he squares his shoulders. “No, no, I got this. I’m good.”
“Alright, ready?”
Kaminari nods, then catches himself and adds out loud, “Yeah.”
Hitoshi counts to ten again.
Fifteen minutes of ten-second loops and increasingly longer breaks go by before Hitoshi calls it. Kaminari is pale, hands shaking in his lap, and Hitoshi’s a little concerned he might throw up.
“Hey,” Hitoshi says, giving Kaminari’s shoulder a light squeeze. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Kaminari sniffles, rubbing his face with a sleeve. He looks embarrassed by his reactions, so Hitoshi gets up, wandering to his bag nearby to give Kaminari time to rebalance.
When Kaminari finally stands up and joins him, Hitoshi offers him a water bottle, and they stand in awkward silence for a long minute.
“Sorry,” Kaminari says, crinkling the bottle anxiously as he looks at Hitoshi. “Not exactly training for you if I can’t manage to even chill for half a minute.”
“It’s still practice for me,” Hitoshi says with a shrug, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door as Kaminari follows him. “I haven’t done a ton of quick catch and releases. It’s a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be.”
That’s not totally true, but it does seem to make Kaminari feel better. He visibly perks up on the walk back to the dorms, and they end up chatting about video games and music, both topics Hitoshi’s surprised to find they have overlap in.
Back at the dorms, they go their separate ways, and Hitoshi heads for his room lost in thought. He hadn’t managed to get Kaminari past ten seconds, and he could feel how much it freaked him out every time. He’s going to have to come up with some alternate ideas unless he wants to spend the next month feeling like a dick for repeatedly upsetting him.
———
Two days later, after dinner, there’s a light tap on Hitoshi’s door, and Kaminari pops his head in, appearing in response to the text Hitoshi sent. “Hey, you wanna walk over together or something?”
“Nah.” Hitoshi shakes his head, gesturing for Kaminari to enter. Kaminari slips in, watching in confusion as Hitoshi continues to toss pillows and blankets on the floor.
“Uh, you gonna make me clean your room or something?” Kaminari asks.
“Tempting,” Hitoshi says with a grin as he flops down in his beanbag and points at the mess of blankets. “Get comfy.”
Kaminari does as instructed, settling into the blankets and squishing to his chest a Gengar plushie Jirou gave Hitoshi. “No training room?”
“No training room,” Hitoshi agrees, knowing he made the right call at Kaminari’s relieved look. “You were right; it was weird. If we want to get you to where you can be calm while you’re stuck, we should start out with you being calm. So,” Hitoshi gestures at their floor nest. “Better than the training ring, right?”
“Definitely.”
When Kaminari looks settled, Hitoshi sits up a little in his seat. “Ready?”
“Actually, uh…” Kaminari hesitates, squeezing the plushie a little harder. His voice is small when he continues. “Can I hold your hand?”
“You want to hold hands?” Hitoshi asks, cheeks burning, and Kaminari’s face goes pink too, but he nods firmly.
“I think it’ll help,” he says, eyes big as he looks at Hitoshi, and he can’t help caving under that look. It’s like Kaminari’s secret second quirk or something. The power of puppy dog eyes.
“Fine.” Hitoshi holds out his hand, and Kaminari scooches over until he can thread their fingers together. “You ready now?”
“Yep!” Kaminari says, and the bright smile drops from his face as he slips under.
Ten seconds later, Hitoshi releases him, and Kaminari’s grip on his hand tightens, but he doesn’t look as visibly shaken as last time. Hitoshi gives him a few minutes, letting Kaminari idly fidget with his hand until he straightens a little and gives Hitoshi a small nod.
“I’m going to go longer this time, k?”
“Yeah.”
Under he goes again.
The strangest part of Hitoshi’s quirk isn’t feeling like a puppet master. It’s the weird feedback echo he gets from the strings he’s pulling. He can’t read people’s minds, can’t wander their brains, but sink your claws deep enough into someone, and it inevitably starts to bleed into you. Moods, senses, physical reactions, that his brain misinterprets as his own.
Thanks to Aizawa and his training, he’s learned to distinguish them from his own, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling them. So when he holds Kaminari in his quirk for longer, Kaminari’s panic attack slams into them both and Hitoshi loses his grip on Kaminari’s mind.
“Holy shit,” Hitoshi wheezes, fighting the wave of nausea that washes through him. “Is it like that every time?”
Pain shoots up his arm, and he realizes Kaminari is curled over their still joined hands, breathing short and fast as his nails dig into Hitoshi’s hand.
“Woah, woah, woah, hey, Kaminari, breathe.”
“C–can’t,” Kaminari gasps, still hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair, and Hitoshi climbs out of his beanbag chair to wrap himself around Kaminari, pulling him tight to his chest. Kaminari makes a distressed sound that lances straight through Hitoshi’s heart.
“Kaminari, I need you to take a breath, alright? One big one,” Hitoshi says, and Kaminari shakes his head, fingers twisting hard in the front of Hitoshi’s hoodie as he pants.
Hitoshi can tell he’s stuck in a spiraling loop. He doesn’t have a ton of experience with talking people out of panic attacks (well, none, actually), but he does know one way to get oxygen in Kaminari’s lungs.
“I need you to respond to me, okay?” Hitoshi says, squeezing Kaminari’s shoulder. “I’m gonna help, but you have to say something out loud. I promise it’ll help.”
“K,” Kaminari gasps after a moment, and Hitoshi lets his quirk trickle into Kaminari’s mind, only snagging enough control so he can get Kaminari to take a slow breath but remain conscious and still in control of his body.
“Easy,” Hitoshi murmurs when he can feel Kaminari’s anxiety spike a little at the feeling of his quirk. “You can still move. I’m just helping you breathe a little.”
Kaminari’s fingers flex tentatively like he’s reassuring himself that he can still move his own body, and then his shoulders relax a little, getting heavy in Hitoshi’s arms. They stay like that for a while, silence settling in the room as Hitoshi keeps their breathing synced. Eventually, he feels Kaminari push against the control, and he releases his quirk as Kaminari sits up, staying tucked in the curve of Hitoshi’s arms.
“Sorry,” they say simultaneously, and Kaminari blinks at Hitoshi before his lips curl into a small smile.
“You gotta stop apologizing,” Kaminari says, voice a little rough.
“Right back at you,” Hitoshi says in amusement.
Kaminari chuckles, staring at his own hands where they sit in his lap. He opens and closes them a couple times, then pulls the ends of his sleeves over them like he’s trying to hide the slight tremble in them from Hitoshi.
“Is it always like that?” Hitoshi asks, and Kaminari gives a little shrug, catching his lip between his teeth.
“Yeah, no, I mean, kinda?” He blows out a little puff of air and carefully shifts out of Hitoshi’s lap so they’re sitting face-to-face instead. “If it’s during training or something, it’s not as bad ‘cause all the adrenaline, y’know? And there’s so much going on that it kinda distracts me. But if I’m sitting somewhere dealing with it? Yeah, it’s not great.”
Kaminari plucks at the hem of Hitoshi’s pants, pointedly staring at the floor instead of meeting his gaze.
“Hey, on the bright side,” Kaminari adds, “by the time I’m done short-circuiting, the panic attack is usually ending.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like a win,” Hitoshi comments, remembering just how long Kaminari sometimes gets stuck in that state. He wonders if the panic attacks keep him there longer. If they were gone, would he come back faster?
“You sure you want to keep doing this?” Hitoshi asks, and Kaminari nods, eyes flying up to meet Hitoshi’s.
“Yes, absolutely,” Kaminari insists, one hand coming out to pat Hitoshi’s knee. “It’s going to help. I’m sure of it.”
“Alright,” Hitoshi says reluctantly. He feels all sorts of shitty about Kaminari’s reactions to his quirk, but if it helps… “Tell me if it’s not making a difference, okay?”
“I promise.”
———
To Hitoshi’s relief it does (slowly) seem to be helping. They settle on a schedule of every few days to make sure that Kaminari gets a break, even though Kaminari insists he can handle it every day. Hitoshi keeps their practice limited to only a couple of rounds each time because his heart can only handle watching Kaminari freak out so many times, but once they’re done for the night, they always end up hanging out.
Kaminari gets clingy after each session, seeking out comfort in physical contact, and Hitoshi lets him because he knows it helps and also, maybe he enjoys how Kaminari wedges himself next to Hitoshi in his beanbag.
Sometimes Kaminari plays co-op with him in some game, but usually, he slumps down next to him, first shoulder-to-shoulder, then after one particularly bad night, tucked into the curve of Hitoshi’s arm, watching Hitoshi play. It’s…nice.
Moving onto campus was a tough transition for Hitoshi. His family has always expressed their love physically. His childhood was filled with warm hugs and casual hair ruffles. With too many people on small sofas and nights piled into single beds with cousins. UA has been a trial of contact deprivation, and having Kaminari curled up beside him, dozing lightly as Hitoshi battles bosses on his TV, eases an ache that had settled deep in his chest.
A month passes this way, and even Aizawa is beginning to notice the difference during class mock battles. Kaminari is recovering a little faster, his attitude perkier when he resurfaces.
Midoriya (unsurprisingly) is the first student to notice, and Hitoshi and Kaminari endure an intense and enthusiastic interrogation from him that Hitoshi suspects will start affecting Midoriya’s own training with him. Though probably less of the hand-holding variety and more of dodging black whip, which Midoriya has recently been able to sneak past Hitoshi’s quirk.
He’s still trying to sort out how that’s happening.
Now that he’s beginning to adjust to the entire process, Kaminari can stay under longer, and so he insists on Hitoshi getting some value from the time as well.
“It’s weird to have you just staring at me,” Kaminari complains one night after he can stay under for a solid five minutes with only general increased anxiety and not a full attack.
“I’m just making sure you’re not freaking out,” Hitoshi mutters with a blush. He hadn’t actually realized he’d been staring, but there’s not much else to do with Kaminari sitting in front of him, their fingers twined together.
“Well, you need to be training too,” Kaminari insists, snatching Hitoshi’s switch from its charging dock.
He turns it on, flipping through the library as he plops into Hitoshi’s lap. Hitoshi peers over Kaminari’s shoulder, watching as he rejects option after option.
“What exactly are you looking for?” he asks curiously.
Kaminari grins, head cocked to the side enough that Hitoshi can see the tip of his tongue peeking out between his teeth.
“Something you have under eighty percent complete.”
That ‘something’ turns out to be Tetris, which Hitoshi downloaded on a whim and never played.
“Seriously, dude?” Kaminari says, looking miffed as the game loads. “It’s a classic.”
When Hitoshi shrugs, Kaminari rolls his eyes and shoves the switch in Hitoshi’s hands, not even bothering to get up from Hitoshi’s lap as he settles in.
“Alright, cowboy, let’s ride!”
“You are so embarrassing,” Hitoshi mutters, but he can’t help grinning when Kaminari pretends to throw a lasso with a ‘yeehaw’. Kaminari goes heavy and still in Hitoshi’s lap, and he turns his attention to the game, surreptitiously setting it to ‘easy’ since Kaminari isn’t watching him.
He makes it about a week and a half on that level before Kaminari catches on, and Hitoshi is forced to play the game on ‘extreme’, which is so nerve-wracking that it takes him another week before he manages to keep Kaminari under for any amount of time while he loses round after round.
———
After Hitoshi masters Tetris, they start working their way through a variety of other games. Kaminari soon figures out that it’s the puzzle games that trip Hitoshi up, especially the timed ones. Overcooked takes Hitoshi four days before he can even complete a level without giving himself a heart attack. All while enduring Kaminari’s cackling when he resurfaces to Hitoshi trapped in a corner or running in circles with a vegetable held over his head.
Over time it shifts from every three days to every two, then every other, until Hitoshi finds that Kaminari spends more evenings in his dorm room than his own. They don’t always train. Sometimes Kaminari shows up with a game or interrupts Hitoshi while he’s watching a movie and joins him.
Occasionally Kaminari has even managed to pry Hitoshi out of his room, and they go out for food. Sneaking off campus to hide in a nearby cafe and eat as quickly as possible before Aizawa does his rounds and room checks.
Hitoshi doesn’t bother locking his door anymore, letting Kaminari come and go whenever he likes, and has even woken up from a nap to find Kaminari snuggled up in his beanbag, pocky hanging from his mouth as he plays a video game.
“Whatcha playing?” Kaminari asks on one of their training nights, shutting Hitoshi’s door and flipping the lock before he drops a bag of snacks on the floor next to the beanbag.
“Mario Kart,” Hitoshi replies, lifting his arms, not glancing away from the screen as he banks around a corner.
“Ooo fun!”Kaminari clambers into his lap, careful not to jostle the controller as he settles in, curled against Hitoshi’s chest.
Kaminari tears open a bag of chips, setting it within reach. Hitoshi finishes the race, grabbing some chips while Kaminari fiddles with his phone before dropping it on Hitoshi’s nightstand.
“You ready?”
“Actually, new challenge for you today,” Kaminari says and plucks the controller out of Hitoshi’s hands. “I’m driving. Well,” Kaminari pauses, head cocking thoughtfully. “You’re driving me, driving you, on screen.”
Hitoshi snickers, propping his chin on Kaminari’s head as he watches him switch out the character and settings.
“You want me to play the video game through you, and I don’t even get to use my setup? How is this fair?”
“You’re too good at this,” Kaminari points out, and to Hitoshi’s horror, he selects rainbow road as the course. At 200cc. “We have to give you a new challenge.”
“This is going to end in disaster,” Hitoshi mutters, but he wraps an arm around Kaminari’s waist, getting comfortable as they both watch the screen load.
“I believe in your ability to place first,” Kaminari replies and then nearly drops the controller when Hitoshi’s quirk takes over.
“Oops, sorry,” Hitoshi apologizes.
Kaminari, of course, doesn’t reply, and Hitoshi watches in silence as the countdown bounces on screen. He’s got this. Sure, it’s like…fine motor skills, but how different could it be from getting someone to walk, or move, or talk?
The light turns green, and the character on screen takes off and drives straight off the edge of the course.
Okay, maybe a little harder.
“Shut up,” Hitoshi mutters because even though Kaminari is motionless, curled up in his lap with the controller, Hitoshi can feel his amusement through their connection.
He grabs the controller, restarts the race, and then hands it back, sitting a little further up and actually paying more attention this time. The ticker counts down, 3…2…1…Kaminari’s thumb smashes the accelerate button and drives straight into the abyss.
Hitoshi snickers, giddy with both his and Kaminari’s mirth as he restarts the race again.
“Okay, two hands, two thumbs, gotta do both,” Hitoshi mutters, and then his eyes land on his second controller sitting in the charger, and gets an idea. “Hold on one sec, don’t move.”
He tries not to facepalm at what a dumb thing that is to say. Of course, Kaminari isn’t going to move. He clambers up, grabs the controller, and drops back down behind Kaminari, circling his arms around him again, but this time with the other controller tucked directly below Kaminari’s. He taps the start button on Kaminari’s controller and waits, eyes glued to the screen.
This time, when the race starts, the car takes off, finally staying on the track, and Hitoshi grins. Way easier when he can have Kaminari mimic his own movements on the disconnected controller. He manages to make it around the track, but he falls off so many times that the race ends before he even crosses the finish line. But it’s progress.
He flops back on the beanbag, releasing Kaminari, who sits up immediately, wheeling around on Hitoshi with a pout. “Hey! That’s cheating!”
“What?! How??”
Kaminari snatches the second controller from Hitoshi, keeping his arm outstretched as Hitoshi tries to reach around him to grab it back. Hitoshi jabs him in the side, and he squawks, dropping it. Hitoshi smushes him flat in his lap so he can snag it.
“Consider it my support item,” Hitoshi says with a grin and Kaminari scowls at him, shoving him off as he sits up again.
While Hitoshi resets the game, Kaminari grabs the bag of snacks, digging through it as he shrugs, tone innocent. “Alright, I mean just say you can’t do it, it’s okay.”
“Hey!” Hitoshi says, offended. “I can do it!”
“No, no, it’s cool,” Kaminari says, popping a gummy in his mouth. “This is a safe space, man. No judgment.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Hitoshi says with a glare, and Kaminari grins at him, tossing another gummy in his mouth.
“Oh? What am I doing?”
Hitoshi catches the bag of gummies as it tumbles from Kaminari’s grip, stuck again in the web of Hitoshi’s quirk.
“Pick up the damn controller,” Hitoshi orders him.
He hooks his arms around Kaminari again, sans second controller, chin propped on Kaminari’s shoulder as he glares at the screen.
“I can do it,” he says firmly and ignores the smugness rolling off Kaminari in waves. Manipulative ass.
It takes another five races for Hitoshi to get the hang of it enough to crawl up the charts. By the final lap of the sixth race, Hitoshi is holding his breath. He’s in second place, but he’s right on Mario’s ass as they come down the final stretch.
“Come on come on come on,” he mutters, eyes locked on the screen, and he can feel Kaminari’s mounting excitement practically vibrating out of him. “Quit it! You’re distracting!”
At the last minute, Hitoshi has Kaminari fire a red shell, and Mario goes flying as they rocket across the finish line in first place. Hitoshi lets out a victorious whoop, and Kaminari springs to his feet, free of Hitoshi’s quirk as hollers in excitement, arms in the air.
“Hell yeah! We make a great team!” Kaminari shouts, throwing himself at Hitoshi, who barely manages to catch him as they tumble out of the beanbag.
Hitoshi rolls them before Kaminari accidentally clocks himself on something, and he ends up flat on the ground under Hitoshi, still giggling in delight.
Heat flashes through Hitoshi’s gut at the sight. Kaminari’s face is bright with joy, gold eyes crinkled, and blonde hair splayed out behind him on the shitty dorm floor. When Kaminari’s eyes meet his Hitoshi’s, he can’t breathe, trapped in Kaminari’s gaze as his giggles subside and he’s left smiling up at Hitoshi.
“You okay?” Kaminari asks after a moment when Hitoshi hasn’t moved, frozen where he’s still hovering over him.
“I’m gay,” Hitoshi blurts out, then turns bright red because of all the things he could have said; that’s what his brain picked?! Kaminari’s smile widens, and he throws his arms around Hitoshi’s neck.
“Hi, gay, I’m bi.”
Hitoshi snorts so hard he nearly hurts himself, and then he faceplants into Kaminari’s chest as they both cackle.
“Oh my god, I’m so awkward,” Hitoshi moans, voice muffled by Kaminari’s sweatshirt.
Kaminari gives Hitoshi’s hair a couple of reassuring pats, and then he smushes Hitoshi’s cheeks between his hands, forcing his head back up until they’re looking at each other again.
“Awkward is cute,” Kaminari says, and Hitoshi blushes even more at the fond smile he gives him. “Unless you didn’t mean you were gay for me. Were you just coming out? Cause that’s cool too. And I’m super honored.”
“No, no,” Hitoshi cuts in, shaking Kaminari’s hands off his face. “Definitely gay for you.”
“Sweet.” They stare at each other for a long minute before Kaminari arches an eyebrow at him. “This is where you’re supposed to kiss me.”
“Right! Sorry!”
Hitoshi ducks down, giving him a chaste kiss, but Kaminari throws his arms around Hitoshi’s neck and crushes them together, kissing him harder. Kaminari obviously has a lot more experience with this whole kissing thing and Hitoshi is more than happy to let him take the lead. Kaminari’s hands wander up Hitoshi’s shoulders, fingers threading into his hair as he tilts his head, tongue slipping out to tease Hitoshi, and he leans into it, chasing Kaminari until he’s licking into his mouth and Kaminari makes a pleased sound.
“Are you out out?” Kaminari asks when Hitoshi pulls back to catch his breath. “Cause I’d really like to call you my boyfriend.”
“Shouldn’t we go on a date first?” Hitoshi asks with a smirk, and Kaminari blinks at him, looking confused.
“What?”
“A…date?” Hitoshi repeats, pulling back slightly as Kaminari continues to frown. “Like to dinner or a movie or something?”
“We’ve done that already,” Kaminari replies, tugging on Hitoshi’s shirt until he leans back in and kisses him again.
“But not like as a date.”
There’s a long pause, and then Kaminari chuckles, laughs harder, then ends up covering his face as he laughs so hard he snorts, tears in his eyes as Hitoshi stares at him in confusion.
“Oh my god, oh god,” Kaminari wheezes, desperately trying to get control of himself, but every time he does, he looks at Hitoshi and starts laughing again.
“Okay, well, now my feelings are getting hurt,” Hitoshi grumbles, clambering off Kaminari.
“No, no, wait! Come back!” Kaminari says, sitting up and scrambling after Hitoshi until he’s in his lap, arms around his shoulders.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because—” Kaminari snickers, then takes a deep breath before he finally gets control of himself. “Because I thought we’d already been on like five dates.”
“Oh.” Hitoshi blinks, and then it all kinda slams into him at once. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Kaminari says, head dropping to the side as he gives Hitoshi a lopsided grin. “Sorry, I just, I didn’t know if you were like out or whatever, so I was just following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” Hitoshi moans and buries his face back in Kaminari’s chest, mortified.
“Your obliviousness is adorable,” Kaminari says fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Hitoshi’s head.
Hitoshi makes a pained sound, memories of all the times they’ve gone out together flashing through his head. How they’d shared food. Snuggled up together at the movie theater. How touchy Kaminari had been. Hell, they’d even held hands.
“So…” Kaminari says after a minute, fingers tapping on Hitoshi’s head. “About that whole boyfriend thing…”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi says, finally sitting up to cup Kaminari’s face in his hands, pulling him back in for a kiss. “You can call me your boyfriend.”