Work Text:
Kirishima gnawed at his lip, anxiety coursing through him like a storm. His leg bounced restlessly as he stared down at the letter on his desk, the same letter he’d rewritten what felt like a hundred times. The words felt heavier with every draft, each line of confession weighing on him. He could already hear the voices in his head, calling him out for being a coward. A part of him couldn’t argue with them. He was a hero-in-training, after all. Shouldn’t he be brave enough to face Bakugou directly? To stand tall, look him in the eyes, and just say it?
But every time Kirishima tried to imagine that moment, every time he pictured himself walking up to Bakugou and letting the words out, his chest tightened. He could see Bakugou’s face so clearly—the way his sharp red eyes would narrow in confusion, or worse, irritation. The rough sound of Bakugou’s laugh echoed in his head, not the warm one he sometimes shared with their friends, but the dismissive, dangerous one he reserved for things he didn’t take seriously. That sound alone was enough to make Kirishima’s stomach flip and his courage disappear.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn’t what a manly confession was supposed to be like, was it? But no matter how much he wanted to stand up and shout his feelings for Bakugou, the truth was, he couldn’t. His voice always caught in his throat, the words dying before they could make it past his lips.
So, he decided on the next best thing—a letter.
It wasn’t ideal. He knew that. Some part of him hated how impersonal it felt, how easy it was to hide behind ink and paper instead of facing Bakugou head-on. But in Kirishima’s mind, a letter was better than nothing. It was more thoughtful than a text, more meaningful than blurting it out in the middle of a conversation, and it gave him the chance to say everything he wanted without stumbling over his words. Most importantly, it allowed for some distance—enough space that if things went wrong, he wouldn’t have to see the rejection in Bakugou’s eyes. And knowing Bakugou’s temper, Kirishima was almost certain things would go wrong.
He sighed again, picking up the letter and scanning the words one more time. He was sure he had re-read it at least fifty times by now, paranoid that he’d misspelled something or accidentally come across as creepy. The last thing he wanted was for Bakugou to think he was some kind of stalker.
His eyes lingered on the closing line.
I’m in love with you.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. It was simple, direct, but it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Would Bakugou even take it seriously? Or would he just toss it aside like another random fan letter? Kirishima didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at him, but he had to do something. He couldn’t keep bottling this up.
With a shaky breath, he carefully folded the letter and tucked it into a small envelope, making sure his handwriting was legible one last time. He slipped the envelope into the small gift bag along with the other items he’d picked out—a box of chili chocolate, a grenade-shaped keychain that reminded him of Bakugou’s quirk, and a bottle of green tea. They weren’t big gifts, but they were personal, his favorite treats and a small nod to his quirk.
Kirishima stood up from his desk, clutching the gift bag like it was a lifeline. His heart raced as he made his way to the door, peeking through the crack to check the hallway. He wasn’t ready for anyone to see him doing this—especially not Bakugou himself. The coast was clear, and Kirishima let out a small breath of relief.
He stepped out of his dorm, glancing left and right like a hero sneaking through enemy lines. His footsteps were almost painfully loud in the quiet hallway, and every creak of the floorboards made his pulse quicken. When he finally reached Bakugou’s door, he hesitated for a second, his grip tightening on the bag. This was it. Once he left it here, there would be no turning back.
With trembling hands, Kirishima gently placed the bag down in front of the door, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure it would wake the whole dorm. He lingered for a moment longer, staring at the gift, part of him wanting to snatch it back and run before Bakugou ever saw it.
But instead, he took a deep breath, turned on his heel, and quickly made his way back to his room, his nerves shot but his resolve firm. By morning, Bakugou would find the letter. And after that... well, he’d deal with whatever came next.
Hours later, sleep pulled him into an uneasy rest. But it didn’t last.
Kirishima woke up groggy, blinking against the early morning light that filtered through his curtains. He groaned, squinting at the clock— 8:00 a.m. on a weekend? He hadn’t expected to be up this early, but his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. The constant barrage of notifications broke through his sleep-fogged mind. Rubbing a hand over his face, he reached for his phone, already dreading the flood of messages waiting for him.
He immediately sat straight up, his heart beating so fast in his chest that he could feel it in his throat.
Bakugou [6:38am]
Is this some kind of fucking joke?
Attached to his message was a picture of the gift bag, the contents of which were placed on the table. The small chili chocolate box, the grenade keychain, and a bottle of green tea. But at the forefront of the picture was the note. Its contents basically completely covered but you could definitely see the “I’m in love with you” scrawled into the paper.
Mina [7:22]
OMG OMG OMG OMG BAKUBABE
Kaminari [7:28]
Bro... wait huh?
Someones in love with you?
Sero [7:40]
JEEZ out of all of us I wouldn't have expected Baku to get a love letter first...
Is there a name?
Mina [7:42]
OMG yeah! Who sent it?
Bakugou [7:47]
FUCK YOU ALL
No there’s no name
That’s why I thought it was one of you dumbasses playing a shitty prank or some shit
No name. There was no name. Kirishima’s heart sank. His stomach twisted painfully, his hands shaky as he set the phone down. He started pacing around his dorm room, his mind racing faster than he could keep up. There wasn’t a name?
Kirishima dragged a hand down his face, groaning into his palm. The gift bag had been left so carefully, so meticulously planned to be unmistakably from him. But somehow, in his nervous frenzy of writing that stupid note, he hadn’t signed it. How had he messed up so badly? The whole point of leaving the letter was to tell Bakugou—finally tell him—how much Kirishima cared about him, how much he loved him.
And now, Bakugou thought it was some kind of joke.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Kirishima cursed, tugging at his hair as he crouched down. A scream clawed at his throat, but he swallowed it down, focusing on keeping his breathing even. He couldn’t afford to lose it now. He couldn’t—he had to think. He had to fix this.
His phone vibrated with another incoming message, and dread pooled in his gut as he reached for it. What if Bakugou had figured it out? What if he knew it was from him, and this was it—this was the end of their friendship?
His thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating. When he finally opened it, he almost wished he hadn’t.
Kaminari [7:58]
Dude, seriously, who do you think sent it?
Maybe someone from the support course?
Sero [8:00]
Honestly, I bet it was a fan.
You know how people are about our Bakubro’s “fiery attitude” lol.
Kirishima’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. His fingers shook as he read the thread, as the group chat lit up with guesses about who might’ve left the gift. Every word only twisted the knife deeper. Bakugou wasn’t just confused—he was pissed. And why wouldn’t he be? Kirishima had practically thrown his heart at him with all the subtlety of a grenade, and now Bakugou didn’t even know it was him.
But what hurt the most was the idea of Bakugou thinking it was a prank.
He pressed his hands against his knees, forcing himself to take deep breaths. This was a disaster. How was he going to fix this without making it worse? Could he just... send another note? Or maybe he could confess in person? The thought sent a wave of anxiety crashing over him. There was no way he could look Bakugou in the eyes right now—not after screwing up this badly.
His phone buzzed again, pulling him from his thoughts.
Bakugou [8:15]
I’m not dealing with this cryptic bullshit.
People should just man up and say shit to my face
Kirishima stared at the message. His heart was pounding, fingers tightening around his phone. He wanted to say something, wanted to tell him the truth. But his throat felt tight, the words refusing to come. What if Bakugou laughed? What if he rejected him? He couldn’t bear to see Bakugou look at him differently, to lose the bond they had.
But if he didn’t say something soon, someone else might take the fall—or worse, Bakugou might think it really was a joke. Kirishima couldn’t let that happen. He stood up abruptly, pacing the room once more. He was a hero-in-training, dammit. He faced down villains, braved danger without a second thought, but here he was, terrified of three little words.
The grip on his phone tightened before he sighed. He made a mistake and now it was time to fix it, no matter what the consequences. Kirishima opened his private chat to Bakugou.
Kirishima [8:27]
Hey
Can I come over?
He held his breath as he waited for a reply, heart thumping in his chest like it was trying to break free. But there was no need for a texted answer. The sharp knock against their shared wall made Kirishima’s pulse race. Bakugou’s way of saying yes—direct, as always.
Kirishima stood frozen for a moment, staring at the wall like it held all the answers to his problems. His legs felt heavy, like they might give out any second, but he pushed through the nerves. He had to. This was it—no more running away.
Taking a deep breath, Kirishima crossed the room, opened his door, and stepped into the hallway. Bakugou’s door was already cracked open, waiting for him.
With one last look back at his room, Kirishima walked through, closing the door behind him. Now, it was just the two of them.
Bakugou leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "You wanna tell me what the hell’s going on?"
Kirishima swallowed, his throat dry. This was it. No more notes, no more hiding. Just the truth. His heart pounded in his ears, but he forced himself to speak.
“I messed up,” Kirishima said, his voice rougher than he’d expected. “The gift... the note... it was me, Bakugou. I’m the one who left it.”
Bakugou’s eyes widened for a second, but he stayed silent, his gaze burning into Kirishima. The tension between them crackled and made Kirishima shift on his feet, anxienty gnawing at every inch of his body.
Kirishima took a shaky breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m in love with you.”
The words hung heavy in the air, but they were out now. There was no taking them back.
“I meant to sign the note, but I didn't. Which was really dumb. But it’s true, Bakugou. I’ve felt like this for a while now. I just... I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to screw up our friendship.” His voice cracked, and he felt the weight of it all crashing down.
Bakugou was still silent, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more Kirishima’s nerves unraveled. Had he made a mistake? Was this it? Would Bakugou hate him for this?
Just when Kirishima thought he might burst from the tension, Bakugou pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. “You’re an idiot,” Bakugou muttered, his voice low but not angry.
Kirishima blinked, taken aback. “W-What?”
Bakugou’s eyes softened, just a fraction, but enough for Kirishima to notice. “You should’ve just told me, dumbass. Why’d you think I’d laugh or something?”
Kirishima’s breath hitched. He opened his mouth to reply, but Bakugou cut him off with a scoff. “Tch, typical you—overthinking everything.”
Then, before Kirishima could say another word, Bakugou took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “If you’re gonna say you’re in love with me, then say it to my face, idiot.”
Kirishima’s heart skipped a beat. He looked into Bakugou’s eyes, seeing a flicker of something he hadn’t expected—something hopeful.
So he did. He squared his shoulders, feeling his heartbeat steady as he held Bakugou’s gaze. “I’m in love with you, Bakugou. And I’m not messing around.”
For a long moment, Bakugou just stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”
Before Kirishima could even process what was happening, Bakugou grabbed him by the collar, yanking him down for a kiss. It was quick, rough, and every bit as explosive as Kirishima had imagined it might be.
When Bakugou pulled back, he huffed, crossing his arms again, though his smirk hadn’t faded. “Next time, just say it, dumbass. You’re not half as subtle as you think you are.”
Kirishima couldn’t help but grin, his heart soaring. “Got it.” His voice was soft, light and airy. Holy shit he was on cloud 9.
“Damn right,” Bakugou muttered, though there was no bite to his words this time.
Kirishima’s smile softened as he looked at Bakugou, finally feeling the weight lift off his shoulders. Maybe confessing had been terrifying, but seeing Bakugou look at him like that—like he’d been waiting for this too—made it all worth it.