Chapter Text
The Java was a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was patchwork at best, but the lines were shorter than Starbucks', and it was open earlier. The hours were more flexible, almost always being open, with at least one person on shift in the late nights and early mornings. Katsuki was prone to falling into routines, so he found himself stopping to get coffee nearly daily before work, especially on his early morning or late night shifts. It had nothing to do with the staff, especially not the loud, black-haired worker who started to greet him by his name; the honorifics dropped.
He went in disguise, his hero rank being in the top five made it damn near impossible to go anywhere without getting recognized, so when they had first asked politely for a name for his order, his answer had been “Kouhin.” So technically the informality wasn’t actually as personal, but it still felt the same with a fake name rather than him straight up calling him Katsuki. It was unprofessional for the setting of the barista and the customer, but Kirishima made it comfortable.
This guy had made it his personal mission to know all the regulars, and so of course, Katsuki was roped into the operation, despite his untouchable attitude. The guy, Kirishima, as his nametag read, not that Katsuki cared enough to remember, caught on quick to his attitude, but didn’t seem deterred in the slightest.
The bell chimed as he pushed open the door to the coffee shop, his cheeks red from the cold. He didn’t think he needed to bring a scarf today but he found himself regretting it. The shop was empty as it was four in the morning. The person behind the counter wasn’t recognizable, though.
He had grown used to the unprofessional and bright dye jobs the employees had, as it was obvious this place didn’t care about the professional appearances of their employees, still, the blinding red color made his tired eyes burn. As he walked closer, the person who the hair belonged to turned around, his blinding white, sharp smile aimed at him. The hair was unrecognizable, but the face was familiar under the tower of spiky, red hair. The smile couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else.
“Kouhin-chan! Good morning! It’s a bit early for you to be in!” He greeted cheerily, his voice loud over the soft music.
“What happened to your hair?” He said instead of returning his greeting
.
“Oh, this?” He poked at a stiff spike, before smiling widely at Katsuki. “Manly isn’t it?”
“Looks shitty,” Katsuki remarked, pulling out his wallet. “Gimme a caramel mocha latte, no whip.”
“The usual? You should switch it up!” He didn’t punch in the order, “I’ll bring it out to you, Kouhin.”
Katsuki handed over the usual 420 yen, but Kirishima pushed his hand back. “It’s on the house, man! Have you eaten yet? I just cooked up some croissants, super fresh, what kind of sandwich do you like?”
Katsuki pushed the yen towards him again, “I don’t want your handouts,” he gritted through his teeth, “Take it.”
Kirishima ignored him, instead turning around to the coffee machine. “We got egg and bacon? Or would you rather have sausage?”
“Hey dickhead, I ain’t gonna be the reason you get in trouble for handing out free food.” He grabbed a bit extra money and shoved it into the tip jar. “You better put this in the register,” He threatened.
“I won’t get in trouble, they love me here man. Now what sandwich?”
Katsuki sighed, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose up. “Gimme bacon. Extra crispy.”
“Yes sir!” he nodded, the coffee machine humming loudly as he turned around. “It’ll just be a couple of minutes.”
Katsuki sat down, hanging his coat over the backrest of the chair. The table was positioned in front of the counter with a perfect view of the redhead at work.
Kirishima was the most talkative person in his life, (that he actually cared enough to talk to), always bright and happy to ramble. He realized quickly that Katsuki wasn’t up for giving up a lot of information about himself, but he still managed to make conversation, working along with whatever he’d give.
Over the time he’s known him though, he’d unfortunately learned a lot of information about Kirishima. Especially stuff he himself wouldn’t admit even if he were dead. Kirishima was shameless, too open sometimes, sharing any and all information about himself to make any form of conversation. It was admirable, how confident he was in himself, that he could make conversation about any event in his life.
He was completely and utterly shameless. Katsuki has heard all about every one of his horrible first dates, about his neighbor’s cat, about a dog he’s seen before work, about how he spilled his coke all over himself in a restaurant. He knows what gym he goes to, all of his friends by name and some with photos to go along with that Kirishima had shown him. He knows his quirk, and he knows about what brand of protein powder he uses, and what his favorite thing to get at McDonald’s. Everything.
In return, Kirishima knows a lot about Katsuki too. He knows how to talk to him just right, to hit that perfect middle spot without agitating him, perfect enough to be charming and to weasel his way to get Katsuki to admit stuff. He doesn’t know everything, mostly casual things, nothing personal, but he knows more than most people do about Katsuki. More than people care to try to know about him.
Kirishima likes a lot of heroes too, and he talks about it a lot. He’s told Katsuki about how he almost applied to UA, the school Katsuki went to. He tells him about Ashido, his middle school classmate who got accepted. He knows her, raccoon eyes, went through all of high school with her, and works with her sometimes in the field, but he doesn’t tell Kirishima this. Instead, he stays silent and nods along. Kirishima speaks regrettably but stays casual, he smiles through it, only the shine in his eyes giving away his true feelings. He talks about his quirk as if it’s something to be ashamed of, as if it couldn’t be used as a devastating shield and weapon all in one. He could be strong, unbreakable, and yet he talked about it as if it were a burden.
Katsuki would someday talk some sense into him, drive him to be less self-conscious, and be proud of how strong he is, but it isn’t anytime soon. They aren’t that personal yet, and Katsuki had never been the type to give someone a pep talk. Kirishima almost had him go against his morals multiple times.
He thinks about how different life could’ve been if he had met Kirishima sooner. If Kirishima had applied to UA and gotten in (which he would’ve, no doubt in his mind). He tries not to think about these what ifs though, because they’ve always plagued his mind, and only some type of quirk could send him back in time to change things. He doesn’t know anyone who has a time travel quirk, however, so that idea was useless. Maybe Kirishima could’ve been a hero instead of a barista, fighting alongside Katsuki, instead of making coffee for his fake persona.
Along with the hero talk though, Katsuki has heard an unfortunate amount about how much Kirishima loves the pro hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. And it really is an unfortunate amount.
Kirishima obviously doesn’t know he’s gushing about his big, fat crush on the hero to the hero himself, and Katsuki feels slightly guilty about that fact, but he’s in too deep now, it’s too late to admit it. Kirishima would be too embarrassed, not as embarrassed as Katsuki is though, face flustered and biting his tongue whenever Kirishima mentions Dynamight. All the times Kirishima has shown him footage of his fights, the ones he experienced already but from a different perspective, one of a camera, gushing about how hot he looks, how powerful he is, how manly. He always excitably shows him interviews, rare ones and far between as Katsuki hates media and hates dealing with it. He rewinds it multiple times, taking in information about him as if it’s gold and he’s a dragon, hoarding the answers to questions that Katsuki provides as if it’s everything precious.
(Katsuki had started to do accept more interviews. It wasn’t because Kirishima enjoyed them, it was for his public image. Fuck off.)
Katsuki knows deep down that it’s only his hero persona that Kirishima likes, that if he knew him personally then he wouldn’t be as attracted to him. He’d be disappointed by the real person behind the name. It’s only the factor that Dynamight is untouchable and unattainable by any. Sometimes he gets his hopes up since Kirishima is so friendly and welcoming to him every time he gets coffee, but he also is aware enough to know he’s not special. He’s heard him talk with other regulars and customers. Kirishima is just an open, friendly person, someone who’s too kind for his own good.
…
He was on patrol a couple of days later. He had slept in that morning so he didn’t have time for his regular stop at The Java before work. To make matters worse, Kaminari ran into him and decided to walk along with him, ignoring his own patrol route and not taking the hint that Katsuki obviously wasn’t in the mood to chat. He rambled along, and Katsuki grudgingly stayed quiet. The idiot had followed after him since their early days at UA, but they weren’t really friends. He just tolerated him at best.
Walking down the sidewalk the streets seemed calm. It was a work day, so there weren’t many people out at this time, especially on this side of town.
Just as he thought he could have a peaceful rest of his shift, a loud explosion rang out from behind the two of them. Chargebolt jumped, still too dramatic for being a pro hero. He should be used to this shit by now.
Katsuki immediately turned on his heels, welcoming the distraction of action. Another explosion occurred shortly after the first, and he was quick to call for backup, the building creaking loudly as a piece of concrete fell from it. It fell before Katsuki could check for any civilians. The person responsible stood his ground, opposite of him with a maniac smile on his face. He held something in his hand, which he threw at Katsuki.
A loud billow of smoke absorbed him, and he swore as he shot controlled explosions towards the man. He made impact with a solid body and tackled him to the ground. The guy struggled underneath him, obviously taken off guard and out of breath. Kaminari was right behind him, surprisingly, helping Katsuki hold him down.
“Go! I think someone’s caught under the rubble, and you’re better at clearing that stuff.” He ordered. Katsuki held his tongue, wanting to argue just for the sake of it. No one gave him orders. He thought against it though, because someone was in need of help.
As Kaminari handled the villain, he turned and took account of the civilians. There was only one in the rubble, and the bright red hair made panic lace through his chest.
His heart dropped as he ran towards the person, praying to god that it wasn’t the only person he wished it wasn’t. Who else would have hair that annoyingly bright?
He ducked underneath a pillar, stumbling in his panic-induced, fast-paced footsteps.
“Hey!” He shouted as he came closer. Once he did, he saw Kirishima's face, which was immediately recognizable. Dirt smudged his cheek as he grimaced in pain.
Katsuki came up to him, hurriedly picking up the debris that had crushed his leg. He hefted it off and saw that thankfully he had used his hardening quirk to stop the blunt of the damage, but there was still blood caked on his leg.
“Damnit, Kirishima,” He pulled off his gauntlets and threw them aside to crouch next to and gently pull Kirishima to sit up, using his hand to cushion the back of his head. He had never been good at civilian rescue and comfort, but this person was familiar to him. He was actually worried. “Are you okay?”
“I-uh Dynamight-” Kirshima stuttered, looking up at him with a red face that had nothing to do with his injuries. Katsuki’s face warmed as he remembered the guy had (unknowingly) told him about his obsession with his hero persona. He felt his stomach twist.
“How do you know my name…?” Kirishima continued, a starstruck look on his face as he looked up at Katsuki. He blinked down at him, caught.
Fuck.
“Your nametag,” Katsuki replied fast.
Kirishima dumbly reached up at his visor, touching the plastic tag clipped on. “Oh, right.” He swallowed.
“How bad is it?” He asked as he checked his body over for injuries. The worst part seemed to be his leg, as the rest of him was untouched besides the dirt. Katsuki was grateful his quirk helped him withstand anything worse.
“Uhm- I mean I could probably walk. I-I don’t think it’s that deep, my quirk is hardening, it’s n-not that strong but it managed to stop it from being worse.” Kirishima’s face was still red as he now refused to look Katsuki in the face, a look of shame crossing his expression as he mentioned his quirk.
Katsuki hefted him up, putting Kirishima’s hand around his shoulders to help him balance. The guy was shorter than him by only an inch, so it wasn’t too awkward of a position.
“It still helped, didn’t it? Sounds manly to me.” He gruffed out, and Kirishima practically gleamed. Katsuki knew he was playing dirty, having this knowledge of everything important to Kirishima, but he was putting it to good use, using it against him in a good way, dammit.
“I-I mean sure- but it could be better- I mean it’s not as flashy as your explosions- or Chargebolt’s lightning- but-” He started to ramble nervously. Katsuki had never seen him this nervous about himself and his image. Usually, he radiated confidence.
Katsuki cut him off before his rambling turned into a self-deprecating speech. “Sounds tough to me. Who needs a flashy quirk to stand out when you have hair like yours?” He grumbled.
Kirishima stuttered, face red at this point. “I-Thank you Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!” He bowed his head, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. They stumbled as they made their way to the ambulance on sight. Katsuki slowly let him down onto the curb, shouting at a nearby nurse to check him out. The nurse immediately got to work, and Katsuki bit his tongue, no longer having an excuse to stay. He looked down at Kirishima, who was watching the nurse work.
“Tell your work that you can’t come in today,” He spit out, turning around to make his way over to the police. Kaminari was already over there, helping them get quirk-restraints on the villain.
“Wait!” Kirishima shouted, and Katsuki froze a couple of steps away from him, turning around. He took a deep breath, obviously trying to gain the confidence to say something.
“C-could I get an autograph? Or-or a photo? I’m- I’m a big fan!” He rushed out in a fast mess of words. His face was still a bright red.
Katsuki marveled at his confidence. Although he had been kinder to him than any other extra he could’ve rescued, he knew that Kirishima knew his whole public image was a mess. He barely ever did autographs, let alone photos. Anyone with common sense knew that, and Kirishima was a huge fan. There’s no way he didn’t know about his shitty manners.
“Make it quick.” He finally said, and Kirishima's face lit up so bright Katsuki had to squint. He smiled wide enough that every one of his sharp teeth were on display.
He fumbled with his pocket, pulling out his phone. It was cracked and dented, the screen black, and his face fell flat. Katsuki decided he never wanted to see that expression on him ever again.
“I-uh.” He tried the power button, holding it down, but it was cracked beyond repair. He tried clicking it over and over again, tapping the screen desperately. “Ah, I don’t have a pen either.” He fumbled, and Katsuki felt his heart pull seeing Kirishima’s expression.
He turned around, marching up to the police and demanding a pen. Kirishima must’ve taken that as rejection, that Katsuki was leaving, because he looked at Bakgou as if he had grown three heads when he walked back towards him.
“Here, where do you want me to write?” He muttered, and Kirishima smiled so wide his eyes closed.
“I-I mean, uhm.” He fumbled with his appearance, realizing he had nothing that could easily be signed, before taking off his nametag. His name was written at the bottom in neat kanji, so there was space at the top. “Here? Is that okay?”
Katsuki nodded, taking the small thing from him and scribbling his hero name across the free space. He handed it back to Kirishima.
“Thank you!” He bowed low, or as low as he could from where he was sitting on the curb, and the nurse had to move to avoid getting hit.
He slipped his phone from his hero costume. Kirishima looked up at him in confusion as he handed it to him.
“What? You wanted a photo, right?” He demanded, shaking his outdrawn hand. Katsuki sat down beside him, and Kirishima hurriedly took the phone. His hand was shaking as he opened the camera app.
With a quick snap, the photo was taken, and Kirishima handed his phone back shyly. Katsuki took it, unlocking and opening his contacts. Kirishima stared wide-eyed and disbelievingly at his phone as if this was all some huge trick on him.
Katsuki handed it to him, and Kirishima stared at it as if it were a ticking bomb that he’d just been told to diffuse. “Uh-”
“Put your number in so I can send you the damned photo.” Katsuki gritted out through his teeth, his face warm from the embarrassing display.
“R-right!” Kirishima had to retype it about four times because of how badly he was shaking, but he managed to get it. He wrote his name into the contact then hit save.
“T-Thank you, hero!” He repeated for the umpteenth time, and Katsuki stood up, phone in hand. He raked his mind for anything to say, to take away from the awkward tension.
“Can you manage to get home?” He said instead. Kirishima looked as if he was one action away from fainting.
“Probably! I mean-yes, yup! I’m all good!” He rushed out, and the nurse gently told him off for fidgeting, telling him to stay still.
“He’s fine, but he shouldn’t walk home. Get him set up with the police for an escort.” The nurse ordered Katsuki, and he scowled at them.
“My agency is just down the street, I can get my car and escort him home.” He said, Kirishima literally looked like he was going to throw up on his shoes.
“N-no, it’s okay! That’s totally not necessary and you’re on shift right now- and it’s okay! You already did way more than needed!” Kirishima stuttered out.
“The police would take too long, I’ll be back with my car in a minute.” He settled, already walking away. “I get off in twenty minutes anyways.” As he marched away, he ordered Kaminari to take care of the paperwork. The wimp complained loudly, shouting after him, but he ignored it.
Kirishima was right where he left him on the curb when he pulled up again. It’d only been about five minutes max since he’d left. The nurse seemed to be finished with him, getting up at the sight of Katsuki’s car. Kirishima bowed thankfully.
He seemed nervous at the approach of his car, stumbling for a second as he tried to stand. Katsuki parked it very illegally on the street, uncaring of the police close by, getting out and rushing to get an arm under Kirishima’s armpit to support him. He opened the car door for him with his free hand and helped him inside. It was weird to be touching Kirishima, as there was never any contact between them at the cafe besides light finger brushing when they handed each other either coffee or money. He was warm, and Katsuki’s fingers felt cold as he pulled away and shut the door behind him.
Kirishima’s apartment was closer than he’d expected, so the ride wasn’t long. He lived in the sketchy part of town, the part where Katsuki was constantly patrolling and villain activity was prominently higher. He pulled up to a curb with Kirishima’s guidance.
“Thank you so much for the ride, hero! I’m very appreciative.” He said formally, shyly looking away as he opened the door. Katsuki got out of his side quickly, rushing to open the door fully and help Kirishima get out.
“Can you get up fine? Does the elevator even work in this place?” He said as he eyed the building suspiciously. Kirishima was completely capable of defending himself, Katsuki knew this well because of the muscles he could feel under his fingertips, but he still didn’t want to drop him off with a fucked-up leg. He’d offer to bring him home to his apartment, heal him back to health, and cook him warm meals, but that was weird. He wasn’t a fucking caregiver, he reminded himself harshly as soon as his thoughts began to stray.
“Yes! Yeah, I should be fine from here. Thank you again.” He bowed his head lightly, and Katsuki stubbornly let his grip falter, forcing himself to let go before he held on forever and dragged the stupid redhead home with him.
“Okay, bye.” He said, maybe a bit unkindly as he got back into the driver’s side. He watched and made sure Kirishima made it into the building, until he could no longer see his back through the tinted windows. He stayed for a moment after too, just in case.
Finally, scolding himself for the feeling in his chest, he pushed the shifter into drive and drove off. He should pick up another shift at work today, it’d help take his mind off of this feeling.
…
As Katsuki entered the coffee shop, Kirishima immediately shoved his nametag in Katsuki’s face as soon as he took a step into the threshold. He waved it around excitedly, leaning over the counter.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Katsuki deadpanned, shoving aside his hand by the wrist. Kirishima held it out again, ignoring his jab.
“Do you not recognize this signature, dude?!” He complained, a smile not leaving his face. It looked permanent.
“Not when you’re shoving it in my face like that.” He swatted him again. Kirishima was obviously over waiting for Katsuki to guess, impatient, excitement laced through his features.
“It’s Dynamight!” He blurted, taking it back and gently, with as much care as you’d handle a newborn, clipped the tag back onto his visor. “He saved me, I’m not even lying-” He fumbled in his apron, pulling out his phone. It was visibly new, with no scratches, cracks, or dents like there had been prior. “Dude, he gave me his number-” He was breathless, Katsuki was sure he wasn’t even breathing between sentences.
“I think this is unprofessional for you to take your phone out instead of helping a customer-” Katsuki nagged, trying to bid away the heat on his cheeks.
“Dude!” Kirishima interrupted, turning the phone screen to face Katsuki. He finally took in a deep breath, face red. “He totally gave me his number! And he- he signed my nametag- and! He took a photo with me! He gave me a ride home! Have you ever even heard of him doing that!?”
Katsuki had to gently push his hand back so he could see the screen better. Pulled up was the text message chain between the two. The selfie that they’d taken was there, sent from Katsuki, and the text response was sent hours later, presumably after he’d gotten his new phone. It was a simple thank you. He was left on seen. Katsuki took it in, despite having seen it himself through his own phone. It burned hot in his pocket with the guilty knowledge that Kirishima didn’t know.
He looked at the contact. He raised a hand to cover his mouth, heat on his face.
“What the hell is that contact name?!” He exclaimed, blushing as he pushed Kirishima’s phone back at him. Kirishima looked down at his phone, laughing hard before locking it and putting it in his pocket. His smirk was mischievous.
He opted to not respond, smiling widely at Katsuki with absolutely no shame.
“I made that picture my profile picture on like- everything, man, and I look really rough. That’s commitment.” He sighed dreamily. “Can you even believe that? He saved me. I swear it was like- love at first sight or something.” He fanned at his face with his hand, mocking the heat of his blush. “You should’ve seen him pushing through the rubble to me- so hot, dude. Seriously worth the broken leg.”
Katsuki’s face was burning at this point, he was sure it was the same bright color as the idiot’s red hair.
“Shut up! Do you seriously have no shame? Stop preying on a pro!” He hissed, “Get my coffee ready, Kirishima!”
“Yes! Of course Kouhin!” He turned towards the coffee machine, skipping accepting Katsuki’s money. It’d become a routine now, and so he instead shoved it in the tip jar. There had been a time Kirishima had hidden the jar from him, in which he quickly realized Katsuki had extremely more violent ways of forcing him to take his money.
“I wonder what he’d get for coffee?” He said over the grinding of the machine. “Probably something manly like straight black.” He hummed.
Katsuki felt himself blush, the expectations Kirishima set for him hovering over himself embarrassedly. He immediately felt his defenses rise.
“What? Are mochas not manly?!”
“No definitely! Don’t worry dude, I’m not picking on your coffee choices, I’m just saying.” He poured out the drink, steam hovering in the air above it. “Your mochas are totally manly too, just as are whatever Dynamight would order.” He smiled brightly at him. Katsuki felt embarrassed at getting so worked up and jealous over essentially himself, and Kirishima’s directed affections.