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“Kirishima!”
Eijirou turned around with a smile, bandaged, and bruised, to see Bakugou marching in his direction. It warmed his heart to see his best friend after exhausting himself in battle against the yakuza. Blond brows were tightly knit into a scowl as Bakugou swung his fists at his sides, heavy footsteps trailing after him. “Bakugou, hey, what’s up?”
Bakugou came to a stop in front of him and lifted his head. His expression was stern but unreadable, and Eijirou’s heart fluttered uncomfortably in his chest. He smiled, though he wasn’t sure how visible it was beneath the bandages that covered his face.
“I want to talk to you about something,” scarlet eyes shot past Eijirou to the others standing around him, “alone.”
Eijirou smiled wider and turned back around to face Sero and Kaminari. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Are you sure you wanna go alone? Blasty looks pretty pissed,” asked Sero.
Eijirou chuckled lightly and nodded his head. “I’m sure it’s fine.” They looked at him skeptically as he waved them off, following Bakugou who turned around with a huff.
Bakugou marched wordlessly past the dorms and around the school towards Gym Gamma. Eijirou was two paces behind him the whole way. He watched the way Bakugou’s shoulders tensed, and he hunched forward, hands in his pants pockets as he walked. Bakugou never looked back to make sure Eijirou was still behind him. He knew, even without looking. To Eijirou’s surprise, they didn’t enter the gym. It made sense, given how beat up he was, but part of him figured a few bandages wouldn’t stop Bakugou from wanting to train with him.
They rounded the building until they were at the far back. It was quiet, isolated, and Kirishima suddenly felt incredibly nervous. He’s seen a lot of anime where the school bully takes their victim out back to threaten them and then beat them up. Eijirou knew Bakugou wasn’t here to take his lunch money, but what was so important that they needed to go so far away? When they stopped, Bakugou rounded on him, standing a few feet away.
Eijirou scratched his chin nervously and let out a shaky chuckle. “What did you want to talk about? It must be pretty secretive if we gotta meet all the way out here.”
He watched as Bakugou chewed on his lower lip, then sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah… Sorta.” Bakugou shook his head, blond hair swaying, then straightened his back and looked at Eijirou with a deathly conviction. “Kirishima—”
“Yeah?” he asked, innocently.
“You’re my best fucking friend or whatever,” or whatever… “but I need you to know that I—” Bakugou gulped, “—that I like you.”
Was that it? They came all the way out here for Bakugou to say he liked him? Eijirou smiled and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I like you too, man. We didn’t have to come all the way out here for you to tell me that.”
Bakugou shook his head and lifted his arm, pressing his pointer finger firmly into Eijirou’s chest. It stung a little from the bruises, but he ignored it. “No. I mean I love you. I’m in love with you and your stupid shitty hair.” Piercing scarlet eyes seemed to bore into the very depths of Eijirou’s soul. His face flushed.
“Like… in love with me, in love with me?”
Bakugou folded his arms across his chest. His look was serious, calculating, and Eijirou knew he must be telling the truth. It wasn’t some sort of elaborate prank—not that Bakugou would do something like that. He stood there silently, letting the confession sink in. Eijirou’s mouth felt dry, and his tongue was hard to maneuver, words failing him. Whatever Bakugou was thinking as he waited on Eijirou to make a proper reply, was hidden within the depths that was the vault of his emotions.
“You’re serious,” he finally said, dumbly.
Bakugou nodded. “I am. I like you, and I can’t just sit by and not say anything as I watch you get wheeled into an ambulance on television.”
“I’m okay though,” said Eijirou, unconvincingly behind his layers of bandages.
“S’not the point. Well?”
Eijirou furrowed his brows. “Well, what?”
Bakugou huffed. “Idiot. Do you like me too? Will you go out with me?”
“Oh.” Eijirou chewed on his lip. He didn’t want to say anything that would hurt Bakugou’s feelings. That was his best friend, and it would kill him to be the cause of his pain. Bakugou was putting himself out there in the rawest and realest way possible. He had to tread carefully. “I’ve never thought about it before,” he admitted. “Us, I mean.”
Bakugou’s nostrils flared as he inhaled, then he nodded once. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He pressed his finger against Eijirou’s chest once more, then flicked him on the nose. “Okay. That’s not a no, so I’ll take it. Obviously, you’re too dumb to figure it all out right now.”
“Hey!”
Bakugou grinned, that wide, feral grin of his. It left Eijirou feeling uneasy. “And since you didn’t tell me no, that means this is just one more challenge to overcome.”
“What?”
Bakugou took a step back and pointed his finger directly at Eijirou’s face. “Kirishima Eijirou—”
“Yes?!” he chirped.
“I’m gonna make you fall in love with me. From now on, I want your idiot brain to see everything I do as romantic because that’s what it is,” declared Bakugou. “You didn’t outright say no to me now, so I’m going to make sure you never say no to me in the future. Watch your back!”
“What?”
Bakugou turned around and started to walk away. There was a smug grin on his face as he left, but Eijirou could see the telltale signs of a blush coloring the back of his neck and his ears as he rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Eijirou stood there in stunned silence.
“What the hell just happened?”
Eijirou spent the next few days in a haze of uncertainty. Bakugou had made that grand declaration behind the gym and then was oddly quiet afterwards. It left Eijirou wondering if he had imagined the whole thing. If he did, it was one hell of a dream for his mind to conjure up. Why would he want Bakugou to confess to him? It wasn’t like he liked Bakugou like that. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog from his mind. Bakugou had said that everything he did moving forward would be romantic, but he just seemed… normal. Actually, he seemed a little distant.
Eijirou was hesitant at first to be around him, not sure how to act, but Bakugou kept a wall up between them. It wasn’t like his old emotional wall that was surrounded in barbed wire and thick with layers of concrete. No, this was like a waist-high gated fence that Eijirou could easily open or step over. There was an opening for him should he so desire, he just needed to cross the divide.
Bakugou didn’t touch him—not that he was big on touch to begin with, Eijirou was the one that always initiated contact—and he kept a comfortable distance when they sat together. If they were at lunch, he sat next to Sero or Kaminari, never Eijirou. If they were relaxing between classes or training, one of their other friends was always in between them. Bakugou didn’t say anything about studying together, not that he ever did. Eijirou always asked him to help study.
He was starting to notice that if he didn’t reach out to Bakugou, it was kind of lonely. That waist-high gated fence inched higher, separating them further. Was he always the one to make the first move in their relationship? It was kind of lonely.
Eijirou forced a smile on his face as he was called to take a turn for an individual demonstration during their hero training class. A hand clapped him on the back, and he turned, eagerly hoping to see it belonged to Bakugou. It was Sero, giving him a ‘go get’em,’ thumbs up with his other hand. Eijirou nodded and ran off, punching clear through a concrete wall with a single swing. A manic cackle reached his ears, and he looked back to see Bakugou smiling. He smiled too, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor. Eijirou took another swing, and then another, the wall crumbling to dust with little effort.
Mr. Aizawa told him “Good job,” and then dismissed Eijirou to go sit with the rest of his class. He naturally drifted to the open spot beside Bakugou, who gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. Warmth lingered where his hand had been. Eijirou felt heat creep up his cheeks, and he bit down on his bottom lip. Maybe he wasn’t the one to always initiate contact. It felt nice to be praised by Bakugou, even with something as simple as a squeeze of the shoulder.
Bakugou’s arm bumped against Eijirou’s as he got to his feet, now his turn to show off to the others. Eijirou cheered for him like he always did, knowing the blond would go all out, and Bakugou did not disappoint. He sent a barrage of explosions at a makeshift dummy and blew the entire field away. Mr. Aizawa scolded him for not being more mindful of unnecessary damage and Bakugou huffed. The others chuckled and laughed to themselves, but Eijirou just smiled up at him brightly. His best friend was so cool.
Whatever weirdness had settled between them the last few days was now gone. Eijirou threw his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder like he always did when they walked to the locker room with the others. Bakugou stilled for a single heartbeat, then proceeded to walk, unbothered. He snapped at something dumb Kaminari said, sending a warning blast in his direction. He and Sero ignored the hostility like they always did. As the other two walked ahead, Bakugou leaned into Eijirou’s side, resting comfortably against him as they walked. His heart fluttered in his chest, confused by the sudden softness of his friend.
When they finished showering, Eijirou stood in the locker room with only a towel on, digging through his locker to pull out his uniform. Some of the others had already left, so the locker room wasn’t as noisy. Bakugou stood across the bench that divided the aisle of lockers, his bag slung over his shoulder, and a heated gaze settled on Eijirou. He flushed, noticing the way scarlet eyes scanned him up and down, no trace of humility or desire to hide the action. Has Bakugou always looked at him that way when changing? Eijirou yanked his clothes out in a hurry, knocking his shoes to the floor and having to squat to pick them up without his towel slipping.
Bakugou cleared his throat. “I’ll—uh—I’ll be out in the hall when you’re done,” he said, a little breathy.
Eijirou’s eyes widened as he slumped back against the wall of lockers, sliding to the floor. He watched as Bakugou disappeared behind another row of lockers, the door banging open and shut loudly.
“Kirishima?” asked Midoriya, tentatively. “You okay?”
Eijirou nodded. “Y-yeah. All good.” He pulled himself to his feet, changing quickly.
Eijirou felt his phone buzz in his pocket in the middle of class a few days later. He waited until Present Mic had turned back to the chalkboard to write something down about past participles in English to slide his phone out of his pocket and peer at it under his desk. There was a text from Bakugou displayed on the lock screen. The preview said, “You wanna go…” He tapped it quickly to read.
[Bakugou]: You wanna go to the arcade after classes today?
He looked across the room. Bakugou was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Eijirou nodded, and Bakugou turned his head a fraction of an inch back to the front, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, elbow on the desk. Eijirou’s cheeks hurt from how hard he was smiling. Bakugou rarely asked him to hang out. It was usually the other way around. Or if he did say something, it was just them in their dorm rooms. He didn’t willingly offer to go to crowded, noisy places like arcades.
Eijirou tried to school his expression as Mic turned back around to face the class. His golden eyes narrowed at Eijirou. He just shrugged at his teacher, then looked down at his notebook to scribble in what his teacher wrote on the board.
He couldn’t pack his belongings up fast enough when the final bell rang for the day. Eijirou heard a chuckle come from Bakugou’s general direction and he whipped around to see his friend watching him. He was packing his things at a much lazier pace. His red eyes held Eijirou’s gaze as he walked by, voice above a whisper, and leaned in close to his ear to speak.
“Settle down, idiot. I’ll meet you outside the dorms.”
A chill ran down his spine as he watched Bakugou disappear out the classroom door. He could still feel Bakugou’s breath on his ear. Eijirou sucked his bottom lip through his teeth, tasting the faint metallic twang of blood on his tongue, and willed his heart to calm down. What was that?? His hands trembled as he finished packing up the last of his textbooks, his legs like gelatin as he took a shaky step forward to leave the room as well.
Bakugou sat on the front steps of the 1A dorm. He was in a light gray t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. The pant legs had frayed holes in them, his right knee peeking out. Eijirou has seen Bakugou practically naked in the locker room and the communal bath, but his legs had never looked as thin as they did in those skinny jeans. There was still the well-defined sign of lean muscle hidden beneath the denim, but Eijirou couldn’t help but wonder if he could wrap his whole hand around Bakugou’s ankle. Could he touch fingertips-to-fingertips around a single thigh?
He banished the thought. It wasn’t the kind of thing someone should wonder about their best friend. His crocs flopped loudly against the concrete, and he wondered if he was underdressed. They were just going to the arcade, and it wasn’t like it was a date. No one else had been invited, just the two of them leaving campus to do something fun together, but definitely not a date. Nope. That would be weird.
Bakugou still hadn’t brought up the confession from a little over a week ago.
“Ready?” asked Bakugou, peering up at him through thick blond bangs.
Eijirou nodded. He reached his hand out to help Bakugou up, but he pressed his palms to his knees and hoisted himself onto his feet. Eijirou retracted his hand, a little disappointed that Bakugou didn’t take it, though it wasn’t unusual for him to do so. They walked in a comfortable silence on the way to the bus stop. Neither one saying much of anything, but it was okay, because just having Bakugou’s presence beside him filled Eijirou with endless joy. As they walked, Eijirou noticed the distance between them gradually shrink. Bakugou would take a small step closer to him every few minutes until their arms brushed against one another. Eijirou’s breath caught in his throat.
“I—uh—you…” stammered Eijirou.
Bakugou cocked a brow, peering up at him. “Hm?”
Eijirou shook his head. “Nothing…”
This touchy, affectionate Bakugou was messing with his brain. He didn’t know how to handle it—how to handle him.
They sat on the bus together, their knees knocking against one another. Eijirou kept his gaze fixed on the window and the world outside of the bus. This wasn’t a date. He was imagining Bakugou’s odd behavior. He was sure he fever-dreamed the whole confession. When the bus stopped at their destination, Bakugou stood up first, grabbing Eijirou by the hand to lead him out of the vehicle. His eyes blew wide in surprise as he stared down at their joined hands, Bakugou never looking back as they stepped off the bus.
The arcade was a block away. Bakugou didn’t let go the whole way there. Eijirou was too stunned to try and free his fingers from his friend’s grasp. The warmth of Bakugou’s strong, calloused hand radiated up Eijirou’s arm. Eijirou found himself absently massaging his thumb against the webbing of Bakugou’s thumb and forefinger. His hand froze at the realization, and when Bakugou let go as they walked into the arcade, the coolness that replaced his gentle touch left a longing in his chest.
Gaming went about as normal as always. They challenged each other to shooter games, DDR, skee ball, air hockey, you name it. They had a good back and forth going, neither one willing to lose. Eijirou’s stomach growled after two hours of playing games and Bakugou grabbed him by the elbow, leading him over to the concession area.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, skulking off to the counter. Eijirou watched him go. Those strong back muscles built up from months of training with heavy gauntlets on his arms rippled beneath his shirt. Eijirou swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He had always admired Bakugou and his strength, but never like this. Not until recently. Not until… He shook the thought from his head.
Bakugou returned a few minutes later with a tray of food and two soda cups. He set the tray down on the table and handed Eijirou one of the cups, taking the other for himself. There were French fries, a bag of spicy chips, and a small pizza on the tray between them. Eijirou reached for one of the fries, brushing Bakugou’s hand as he did so. He recoiled, startled. Bakugou huffed, lips drawn tight.
“You don’t have to be so spooked. I’m not gonna jump ya.’”
Eijirou wet his lips, popped the fry into his mouth, and chewed slowly. His heart was loud in his ears, echoing with each bite of the salty potato slice. He swallowed, then picked nervously at his fingertips.
“Bakugou?”
“Hm?” Bakugou tossed a chip into his mouth, unfazed by the heat of the spicy powder that coated it.
“Is this a date?” asked Eijirou, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
Bakugou rolled his eyes and ate another chip. “No,” he said.
Eijirou furrowed his brows in confusion. He felt relieved, but also a little disappointed. What was with that? “But I thought you said you…”
“Like you?” Bakugou finished for him.
Eijirou nodded carefully.
“I do. Do you think I’d be doin’ all this touchy-feely crap if I didn’t?”
“You don’t want to?” asked Eijirou.
“‘Course not.”
Eijirou took a slow sip of his soda as he debated what to say next. “Then why are you?”
The humor and condescension faded away from Bakugou’s face as he leveled Eijirou with a serious gaze. “Because you like it.”
Eijirou choked on his soda. “What?”
“You like touchy-feely crap, so I do it. Would you have believed me if I behaved the same way I always do?”
“Yes!” Eijirou was quick to answer. “Maybe… probably not…” he trailed off. If Bakugou was as aloof and unreadable as he normally was, Eijirou would have one hundred percent convinced himself that the confession had never happened.
“Exactly, and I don’t want a friend pity date or whatever. So, this isn’t a date. When you say you like me back, then they will be going forward.”
Eijirou sucked in a breath between his teeth. “You’re really confident I’m going to like you back,” he said more to himself than Bakugou.
“I’m always right, aren’t I?”
Not this time, Eijirou chose not to add, a seed of guilt nestling in the pit of his stomach.
“Bakugou’s been weird lately, hasn’t he?” asked Sero. A small group had gathered in the common room, and he felt no shame in voicing his query.
Eijirou sat quietly in one of the large, comfortable chairs, feeling his stomach leap into his chest. Kaminari’s attention fell on Eijirou, making him squirm in his seat. He should leave.
“Kacchan has been like, all over Kirishima.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about,” argued Eijirou weakly.
Sero said, “He’s been like, throwing himself over your shoulder, and sharing food.”
“He’s always like that,” Eijirou protested.
“Nuh-uh.” Uraraka disagreed. She sat in the chair opposite him. “Normally it’s the other way around. You toss an arm on his shoulders or steal his food. Yesterday he was asleep on the sofa with his head on your shoulder.”
“He was tired!” Eijirou chirped, his voice going up an octave. “He didn’t fall asleep on me on purpose.” Though part of him wondered if Bakugou had actually laid his head on Eijirou’s shoulder intentionally, given the current events.
“Sure, man.” Kaminari’s unconvinced tone said worlds.
Eijirou needed a way out of the conversation. “Let’s just play games or something, yeah? It’s not manly to talk about people behind their back.”
“Kirishima’s awfully defensive, ribbit.”
Eijirou glared at Tsu. He got up from his seat and marched toward the elevators.
“Where are you going?” asked Kaminari.
“To work out,” he snapped back. It wasn’t a lie. Eijirou suddenly felt the urge to lay into his punching bag for a while, but it was also just an excuse to leave the situation. No doubt the others would have something to say about it.
When he got to the fourth floor, Bakugou was just walking out of his room. “I wouldn’t go down there,” said Eijirou.
Bakugou cocked a brow. “Why?”
Eijirou bounced on his heels, chewing on his bottom lip. “The others were talking about how affectionate you’ve been lately.”
“Fucking nosey asses. Nothing better to do with their time.” Bakugou sized him up before speaking. “You got weird and ran away, didn’t you?”
“No!”
Yes.
“You wanna hang out?”
No.
“Yes.”
Eijirou slapped himself in the face. Bakugou rolled his eyes and reached out, taking Eijirou by the hand and dragging him toward the stairwell.
“Where are we going?”
“Food.”
So maybe Eijirou undeniably felt something after all. Holding hands filled him with a warmth he had never anticipated. Watching Bakugou scowl while he worked on a particularly hard math problem was undeniably adorable, and every time his best friend leaned in close to whisper something in his ear, Eijirou felt an electric surge course its way down his spine and settle like a live wire in his stomach. He suddenly had a lot of pent-up energy, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
For now, he channeled it into his punching bag, pushing thoughts of Bakugou further from his mind with every right hook to the bag. It had moderate success.
Bakugou, on the other hand, was tricky. His flirting was unrelenting and growing more open. He would rest his chin on Eijirou’s shoulder while they stood around in a group, causing him to flush with embarrassment. Bakugou would knock Sero or Kaminari out of the way to sit beside him at lunch. If someone dared comment on the behavior, he just shrugged it off, all usual hostility absent. The others had given up their teasing. It wasn’t fun when Bakugou didn’t fight back. Instead, they just watched with curious glances.
It all came to head during hero training one afternoon. They had been sparring, everyone instructed to break into groups. Bakugou was quick to pick Eijirou, saying he was the perfect partner for practicing his Quirk on. It wasn’t wrong, per se, but other members of their class had Quirks suited for his training as well. Eijirou didn’t argue. No one else did either. When it came down to it, most people weren’t excited to throw down with Bakugou, and everyone knew Eijirou loved it.
Bakugou’s full-powered blasts were ideal for his hardening. If he could hold out during those explosions, it would make him stronger. That was something that had been proven time and time again. Bakugou gave him strength.
The others were going full force in the background of Gym Beta. Eijirou could hear lightning sizzling in the air, his hair a little staticky from the proximity to Kaminari’s electric Quirk. The air would chill and then drastically heat up as Todoroki alternated between ice and fire. It was a rush watching his classmates at work. He had his back to everyone else, eyes focused wholly on Bakugou before him. Eijirou was breathing hard, exhausted from the barrage of explosions his best friend had fired on him.
Bakugou collapsed on the gym floor, his palms still smoking, sweat dripping down his brow onto the concrete. They were in their gym uniforms rather than their hero costumes and Bakugou’s black t-shirt rode up his stomach, revealing his toned tummy and the curve of his hip bones. Eijirou swallowed, feeling a sudden stir deep in the pit of his stomach. He put on his best smile and leaned forward, holding his hand out to help Bakugou to his feet. Scarlet eyes locked on him as a still-smoking hand lifted towards Eijirou’s palm.
And then he felt a sharp yank on his arm. Bakugou caught him by the wrist and pulled him to the ground. Eijirou threw his free arm out, bracketing Bakugou’s head and bracing his fall. He hovered a few inches above the blond’s body, their noses almost touching, red boring deep into red. Bakugou’s grip on Eijirou’s elbow was firm, keeping Eijirou suspended over him. He swallowed hard, sweat dripping off his nose onto Bakugou’s rosy cheek. All the air in the room felt like it had been sucked out of the gym by Thirteen’s blackhole Quirk.
“Breathe,” Bakugou whispered.
Eijirou let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The sounds of their classmates fighting fizzled into a ringing in his ears. Bakugou’s lips parted, the shape of words forming on his tongue, but Eijirou heard none of it, too transfixed on how pale and perfectly kissable-looking Bakugou’s lips were. Oh. That was weird. Totally not a normal thing to think about your best friend. He shifted his weight, his knee pressing between Bakugou’s thighs, and he froze like he had been encased in Todoroki’s ice. Eijirou felt something there, warm and firm against his knee. A ruddy blush bloomed on his cheeks, and he reeled back, but he didn’t make it far, with Bakugou’s hand still on his elbow.
His thoughts were racing, his eyes slowly shifting south, then snapping back up to Bakugou’s face. Not okay! This was his best friend, and they were in the middle of class.
But if they weren’t in the middle of the gym where anyone and everyone could see them?
No. Banish the thought.
Though, it was growing exponentially harder to do so when he felt his own hardening take hold. Now it was Bakugou’s turn for his gaze to lower, a glint in his eyes that Eijirou had never seen before. He followed the trail those beautiful scarlet eyes left and—OH SHIT.
Eijirou yanked his arm free of Bakugou’s grasp and jumped to his feet. He moved quicker than he ever had before, fleeing the gym despite his teachers’ protests. Eijirou could deal with detention later. He could not deal with his entire class seeing the boner he suddenly had. He could maybe play it off, say he was hardening his legs, but it was more difficult for him to move when his legs were hardened, and he would have torn his pants (he was NOT tearing his pants right now!).
He hurried to the dorms, not stopping at the locker room. Eijirou needed to get out of sight until his body calmed down. Gods, popping a boner in class. He had already gone through all that puberty shit. He prayed to the whatever gods were out there to please smite him on the spot. He wanted to disappear into a pile of ash, and very much not like the mighty phoenix. Eijirou did not want to rise again. Not metaphorically, and definitely not literally. He glanced down at his crotch with a scowl.
In his room, he ran through a mental checklist:
- He really enjoyed holding hands with Bakugou.
- Bakugou gave him warmth and strength that he didn’t find with other people.
- He thought Bakugou’s lips looked kissable.
- He couldn’t help staring when Bakugou’s shirt rode up.
- HE HAD A BONER!
Okay. So, he was physically attracted to Bakugou, but did that mean he liked him? Could he imagine himself with another person having fun the same way he did when he was with Bakugou? He loved hanging out with his friends. That was hard to say. However, he had never felt quite as desperate as he did that day after summer training when Bakugou was kidnapped. His friends had been in a lot of terrible situations in the last several months, but nothing pushed him like that.
It’s just concern for a good friend.
They hadn’t been “friends” all that long at the time. Hell, back then, Bakugou would still easily argue that they weren’t friends at all. They had only known each other for three months.
Eijirou tried to imagine kissing Kaminari or Ashido, but he cringed at how ridiculous it seemed. But Bakugou—Eijirou had easily been two seconds away from leaning in to taste those pale pink lips on his own. Would the kiss have been salty from sweat? He didn’t think he would have minded that so much. His heart lurched in his chest, and he clutched his t-shirt.
Gods, he really did like Bakugou, didn’t he? Was he the only one that didn’t see it this entire time? Bakugou had been certain Eijirou would fall for him. Was he already in… in love with him?
A knock sounded at his door, startling him. Eijirou knocked his chair over in his haste to answer it. His erection had thankfully calmed down and he opened his door, surprised to see Bakugou waiting in the hall. Class wasn’t over yet. Bakugou let himself in, without a word of acknowledgement from him. Eijirou shut the door behind him, standing in a stupor in the middle of his room. Bakugou crossed the dorm to take a seat on Eijirou’s bed, righting the chair before he did so.
“Wh-what are you… what are you doing here?” he stammered.
Bakugou cocked his head to the side, giving him a once over. “Checking on your dumbass.” Despite the name-calling, there was a faint touch of pink to Bakugou’s cheeks, and his voice was strained.
“M’fine now,” said Eijirou.
“You sure?”
“Y-yeah. So, ah… You can go. Th-thanks for checking on me.”
“Kirishima.”
Eijirou’s gaze had been darting around the room, unable to make eye contact, but one utterance of his name was all it took to draw his attention back to Bakugou. The way the afternoon light filtered into his room from between the curtains, cast Bakugou in a glow that made him look like an angel, a soft halo of golden light sat atop his head. “Y-yeah?” he finally said, voice clipped.
“Do you like me?”
There was hesitation in Bakugou’s voice, like the strong confident fledgling hero that he was, was just a shy innocent teenager afraid of getting rejected. And when Eijirou stopped to think about it, wasn’t that what they all were? Despite how hard they train to save lives, they were in fact still teenagers with normal teenage fears. Bakugou had borne his soul to Eijirou weeks ago, a form of intimacy he never showed to anyone out of fear of looking weak. And now here he was again, carefully shuffling his feet over a thin layer of ice, hoping it didn’t crack, drowning him in the inky blackness of the waters below.
Eijirou swallowed hard and took a shaky step forward, not stopping until he stood directly in front of Bakugou. It was time to be a man. He couldn’t let all his talk of manliness be for naught. Bakugou needed a true answer, and there was only one Eijirou wanted to give him. He knelt in front of the bed, pulling Bakugou’s hand into his own, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Bakugou Katsuki, I like you.”
Bakugou rushed forward in a flurry of motion, tangling his free hand in Eijirou’s hair and crashing their lips together. Oh. So, this is what kissing felt like, what kissing tasted like. His heart fluttered. His fingertips felt cold as his body went numb, brain only concentrated on the pressure at his mouth. Bakugou’s lips were a little dry and chapped, but they were warm and soft. Their mouths parted and Eijirou breathed him in, wanting to fully fill himself with everything that was Bakugou Katsuki. It was heavenly.
When they parted, it felt too soon and exactly right all at the same time. Both were desperate for air, their chests rising and falling in shallow breaths. Eijirou spoke first, crimson eyes locked on scarlet. “Th-that was…” he trailed off; brain still muddled from the kiss.
“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, not needing the sentence to finish to know what Eijirou meant.
“Can we—uh—can we do that again?” asked Eijirou.
Bakugou smirked, then pulled Eijirou’s face in close again, his response a hot whisper against his lips. “Yeah.”