Chapter Text
“This is so fucking lame,” barked Bakugo from behind his closed bathroom door. While the dread in his words was evident, the embarrassment that coated each syllable made the boy on the other side of the door snicker. “How the actual fuck did I let you talk me into this?”
How did Kirishima convince Bakugo to try on the All Might costume he bought for him you ask? Kirishima was still wondering the same thing, still unsure how the not-so-friendly neighborhood Bakugo of class 1-A listened to him. Yet again, he was the only one Bakugo even gave the time of day. So, if anyone could do it, Kirishima could. He deserved a pat on the back—or perhaps a very, very long hug—for all the instances of being called ‘Shitty Hair’ he had to endure that week.
“Just come out already!” A sharp grin could be heard through Kirishima’s words, even when he was trying to suppress it. If Bakugo knew even a fraction of Kirishima’s excitement, all bets were off. The blonde-headed boy had already been in the bathroom for twenty minutes, fighting his inner demons and considering whether opening the door was the right choice.
The red, yellow, and blue that adorned his body was just like the one he wore when he was a kid, a kid who looked up to All Might and all his former glory. Any fight, any villain, any time, All Might was going to be the victor, no one on planet Earth was denying that. Yet, it didn’t feel like before. This costume didn’t bring a smile to his small, round face, but rather a look of disdain to his sharper, more piercing one. Bakugo pushed the icy blonde pieces of hair that fell out of the hood away from his eyes, annoyingly flicking away one of the yellow tufts sticking above his head with a grunt. He placed his hands on the sink, leaning slightly forward, and looked into the mirror. Red, piercing eyes stared back at him, looking him up and down once more. He felt ridiculous, wearing some stupid costume. Although he adorned one on any other day, this one was a big waste of time. In spite of this, Bakugo was fairly sure Kirishima was prepared to break down the wooden door to sneak a peek at him and collect some candy.
“Hold the fuck on,” Bakugo hissed, jiggling with the lock on the knob. He hated that Kirishima made him this nervous, costume or not. Some dumb outfit should not be making him feel this way yet red flushed across his face as he finally swung the door open. Kirishima’s shit-eating grin greeted him on the other side, making Bakugo regret not only his choices but his utter existence itself.
“I-” Kirishima cut himself off, trying to find the appropriate words for this situation. There would never be a moment like this again and he had to ensure the right words were used. This situation required him to tread extra carefully.
“You look absolutely adorable.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Bakugo growled, swiftly turning around and attempting to push his way back into the bathroom, back into a hole and never crawl out. Adorable? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Wait!” Kirishima pulled the other boy away from the door, not allowing him to hide. Although the grip he had on Bakugo’s wrist was strong, the boy whose face was now bright red was stronger. Yet, with a swift move, Kirishima held the door to the bathroom open long enough for him to slip through. This didn’t stop Bakugo from trying to slam the door shut, not caring if the red-headed boy came out in one piece or would develop a new quirk—being in two places at once.
Bakugo refused to face him, those four walls of the bathroom feeling smaller than they had before the dumbass decided to intrude. There was nowhere to escape unless he was willing to put a hole through one of these walls. Upon second thought, maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea after all. A little explosion on Halloween night wouldn't be noticed by anyone, would it?
Bakugo could see the sharp grin that still covered Kirishima’s face through the mirror. The boy's red hair hid the slight matching hue on the tips of his ears. In a desperate attempt to rid himself of this humiliation, Bakugo began to unzip his costume, the zipper getting caught on the fabric on its way down. He let out curses under his breath as he felt hands wrap around his wrists and turn him around. Red eyes widening, he looked up. He was now face to face with Kirishima, mere inches apart.
“Woah, woah, woah. At least take me out to dinner first,” Kirishima chuckled, swatting Bakugo’s hands away from the zipper. Bakugo settled for rolling his eyes, not pushing away.
“Whatever, dumbass,” Bakugo growled. His words were all bark and no bite, not wanting Kirishima’s sharp grin to fade away. “I’m not keeping this shit on.”
Kirishima whined, sliding his hands from the blonde boy’s wrists down to his waist, pulling him closer. “Oh come on, Katsuki. Not even for me?” He pulled Bakugo closer to him, carefully placing a kiss on his lips. Despite the fact he knew this wouldn’t change the embarrassed boy’s mind, it wouldn’t hurt to try. Bakugo pulled away, taking a moment to pretend he was considering it for a moment. And, maybe he was, but that wasn’t information Kirishima needed to be aware of.
“You fucking wish.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t feel comfortable around the red-headed boy, if anything he was the only one who came close to making him feel that way. But, this comfortableness—vulnerability—was completely new to him. It sent his body into red alert, an internal alarm going off, telling every fiber of his being that he was in danger, that none of this was okay. It took everything in him not to push away Kirishima’s hands, not to send explosions down his spine, not to send the room into a smokey mess. Looking into Kirishima’s eyes, he felt exposed. It was somehow, someway, that toothy grin that reminded him to take a deep breath, to remind him once again that although it was all new to him. It was okay.
Then again, Bakugo was not the only one facing humiliation at the hands of others despite the festivities not yet starting.
Ida adjusted his large, round glasses and tightened his red and yellow striped necktie, positioning himself outside of Kaminari’s door. Five minutes of waiting had turned into ten, quickly turning into fifteen. Ida took a deep breath, looking at his now maroon-colored watch and tapping his foot. If they did not leave in exactly 2 minutes, they were definitely not going to be his usual 10 minutes early. It wasn’t possible for the boy to keep his feet still, restlessly finding himself pacing. When Ida finally heard some shuffling and a click from the door, he took a step back. There was only a crack into the dark room, the light from the hallway not pushing far enough for Ida to make out his friend’s costume.
“Hey Ida,” Kaminari said into the hall, refusing to push past the door, leaving his oblivious friend alone in the hall for just a bit longer.
“Yes? Is everything okay in there? You’ve been changing for twenty minutes now and the party starts in 7 minutes. If we don’t leave now we’ll-” Ida rambled. If he had known the boy across from him was going to make him late he would have never agreed to this. In that case, he could have worn the doctor costume he wore every year and avoided the embarrassment of everyone knowing the Class Rep wasn't on time.
“You know how for the Halloween party you were going to be Harry Potter and I was going to be Fred Weasley but then last minute I changed my mind and decided I should be Dobby instead because I thought it would be more fun?” Kaminari said meekly, slowly opening the door.
“I was not made aware of this change. But, wait. How is that going to work if you’re Fred and S-” Ida’s words soon trailed off as Kaminari finally entered the brightly lit hallway. Suddenly, the lights were far too bright for what presented itself before him, Ida praying to all the gods that it would go away if he just shut his eyes. He blinked and yet the molerat-looking creature that stood before him was still there.
Kaminari’s bare feet hit the cold tile as regret hit his whole body. The boy stood in the doorway, arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. A tan cap with large, protruding ears covered his head, hiding every strand of his blonde hair underneath. A long, crooked nose was now attached to his accompanied by slouched shoulders and deep breaths through his mouth. Slender and awkwardly placed limbs came out of what appeared to be a potato sack that covered his body. The single piece of fabric came down to just above his knees, leaving little room for imagination.
“I don’t feel comfortable leaving the house like this.”
All was silent except for a deep breath that carried its humiliation through the hall.
“I’m completely bare underneath this and I’m cold.” Another breath of humiliation filled Kaminari’s lungs, the boy unable to look away from the horror that covered Ida’s face. “I feel like terrible things are about to happen at Hogwarts if I wear this.”
Public shaming was not something Ida endorsed, but bringing back pillories was something he was beginning to grasp. It was never in his nature to deny throwing tomatoes at someone who needed it.
The silence that hung in the air between each long breath Kaminari took was truly painful. Despite this silence, both boys failed to hear the elevator ding, bringing a lanky boy adorned in a lion-crested robe down to their floor.
Before Ida could get a word in, Kaminari’s shame was beginning to turn into a need of reassurance. Ida wasn’t sure that was something he could provide at the moment, his mind too occupied with wanting to understand what was going on through Kaminari’s brain. Or, lack thereof.
“Be honest with me,” Kaminari's voice cut through Ida’s thoughts long enough for him to finally get a good look at what stood before him. “I look revolting. Borderline nauseating.” Ida could not agree more but did not have the strength to tell him. Not that Ida didn’t think Kaminari needed to know, more so that Ida truly couldn’t make words fall from his lips. He didn’t know if it was the fear that was still residing throughout his body or the shock Kaminari caused him without using his quirk.
“I made a mistake so,” there was a long pause and the humiliated boy took one last deep breath, “I think I need to change.” With his arms still hanging awkwardly at his sides and his bare feet beginning to feel sticky underneath the cold tiles, Kaminari was about to go back inside his room and change when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Dude.” Sero now stood next to Ida, ginger wig not concealing his eyes enough to save him from this horror. “Did I wear the wrong costume?”