Chapter Text
The world around him is fuzzy. Sewage coats his lungs, a slimy film he can feel with every breath. Oppressive. Suffocating. His skin crawls and he swears he can still feel it moving inside of him.
Bile burns his throat as he makes himself sick again. Fuck! Why won't it just get out, dammit!
His vision swims, distorting the sink in front of him. Whole body trembling, he desperately grabs for the rim of the sink before his legs can give out on him. Something clatters noisily to the ground and panic tightens its grip on his chest. Shit. He hopes the old hag isn’t home. The last thing he needs is her barging in and throwing a fit about him making a mess even though it’s his own goddamn bathroom.
He stares uselessly at the sink, unable to bring himself to turn on the tap to wash said mess down the drain. What would be the point? Usually, just the scent is enough to make him sick again, but he can’t smell it over the overwhelming stench of sewage that still clings to his nostrils. Can’t even taste the acidic bile from his stomach.
Using what little energy he has left, he drags his head up to look in the mirror but instantly recoils. It’s all over him. It’s inside him. Its tentacles are wrapping around his body. It’s coming out of the drain in the sink and he can’t even scream before it shoves itself down his throat.
He can’t breathe. Can’t move. Then he’s slipping backward, landing with a sickening squelch into the monster's sludgy body. The more he tries to struggle the more it laughs, taunting him. Calling him pathetic. Weak. Useless.
His vision gets darker and he has no clue if it’s from lack of air, or the monster pulling him further inside. Soon enough, it won’t matter. There’s no one to save him this time. He’s going to die. Unable to fight. Unable to scream. He’s all alone and he’s going to die.
Bakugou lurches into a sitting position, shoving aside an unfamiliar blanket and then swinging his legs over the edge of an unfamiliar bed. It’s dark and he can’t breathe. He’s shaking so badly he can’t stand, so he wraps his arms around himself instead. He has to let go just as quickly when the pressure, mixed with the slimy feeling of his sweat-soaked skin brings the taste of sewage back to his mouth. Get out! Get out! Get out!
Further panic sets in as he struggles to identify where he is.
What if he got taken again–
Something presses against his back and he flinches so badly he almost tumbles off the side of the bed. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He croaks, scrambling to the foot of the bed before he can even process his body moving. His arms cross in front of his face defensively as he cowers away, hands one deadly spark away from blowing the whole room sky-high.
He looks to the side, but his eyes have only adjusted enough for him to register two different blobs moving in the darkness like they’re coming up out of the floor. No no no no no, it’s here again. Get out! Get away! A sliver of light outlining the shape of a door catches his eye and he bolts, barely registering the sound of words being spoken to him until he’s outside in a blinding hallway.
He’s so disoriented he has to lean on the frantically closed door behind him, squinting as he takes in his surroundings. Something about the hallway feels familiar, but slightly off somehow. Eventually, his eyes land on a figure sitting on the floor to his left and it gives him the mental equivalent of whiplash so violently it snaps him out of his panicked state for a moment.
“Bakugou?” Comes the soft voice of fucking Icyhot of all people.
He freezes, brain desperately trying to rationalize all the information it’s being fed.
What the fuck?
“You good, man?” A second voice says and he doesn’t understand where it came from until the owner leans their head around from the other side of Todoroki. Sero looks tired as they gaze at him, expression growing more concerned.
“What…” Bakugou’s voice tapers out, unable to finish the sentence with how little air is in his lungs. He turns to look back at the door he just came out of, and sure enough, there are the stupid little tape dispenser and spider-man stickers that mark this door as the room of none other than Sero Hanta.
“You with us?” Sero asks carefully, starting to retract their arm from around Todoroki’s shoulders as they move to stand up.
Bakugou instinctively takes a step back, then instantly feels like a coward for doing so. The door to his left clicks then slowly slides open and he takes another frantic step away. Every cell in his body screams at him to Run! Go! Get away! But then, red eyes meet his own from the doorway and something signals to his brain that this person is safe.
“Hey, woah. It’s okay. You’re alright, Katsuki.” Kirishima steps out of the doorway but leaves Bakugou plenty of space. “You’re not in danger. You’re okay.”
“Where…How did I…” Bakugou mumbles, eyes darting between Kirishima, Sero, and Todoroki.
“You’re at the UA dorms. The fifth-floor hallway. You spent the night at my place, remember?” Sero says, then looks at him and Kirishima pointedly. “You and Kiri hogged my bed, you little shits.”
Kirishima looks a little red but rolls his eyes. “I didn’t see you offering to wake him up and ask him to move.”
Sero shrugs. “Sue me for having an ounce of self-preservation, unlike the rest of you.”
Bakugou starts to feel lightheaded and takes a step toward the wall, shooting a hand out for support.
Kirishima’s attention instantly snaps back to him. “Shit. We gotta get your breathing back under control. Let’s sit down for a bit, okay?”
Bakugou watches as Kirishima puts his back against the wall and then slides down to sit, patting the floor next to him.
He stays put.
“You want your chest to stop feeling so tight?” Kirishima asks like it’s a challenge.
Bakugou hesitates for only a moment longer then finally sits down, leaving a wide gap between them. He stares at Kirishima’s shoulder, mind feeling detached from his body. Remnants of his dream begin to creep back into the forefront of his mind and he starts to find it even harder to swallow. Like there’s something in the way. Like it’s inside him again.
His hand moves to feel his throat, fingers searching for something, anything.
“Do you feel like you’re choking?” Kirishima asks.
Bakugou’s hand starts to tremble. Where is it? Where is it!? Why can’t I breathe dammit! Kirishima says something else but he ignores it, his current task too important.
“Sho, could you make an ice cube?”
“What? Now?”
“Please? Just trust me. It’s a kinda stupid method, but it just might work.”
Bakugou squeezes his eyes shut, desperate for some kind of relief from all the feelings currently overwhelming him and the words that don’t make sense. He doesn’t open them again until Kirishima’s voice addresses him, sounding a little closer than before.
“You’re okay. You’re not choking. You’re not dying. You’re just panicking a bit and it’s making it really hard for you to breathe, okay? There’s nothing blocking your throat. Want me to prove it?”
Bakugou looks at him skeptically, but eventually curiosity wins out and he nods.
Kirishima holds out an ice cube pinched between two fingers. “Tada! Now, I bet if you put this in your mouth it’ll fit just fine and you’ll be able to swallow the water when it melts. Wanna try proving me wrong?”
Bakugou glares, sensing this is some kind of trap. Kirishima raises his eyebrows. Bakugou holds a hand out, taking the bait. Kirishima smiles.
He holds the ice cube in front of his face for a moment, the cold already seeping into his fingers. Not wanting to seem like a pussy for hesitating longer, he resolutely pops it into his mouth. The resulting brain freeze is instantaneous, clearing his head once more as his systems are shocked into only focusing on the ice in his mouth.
“Oh. I didn’t know he was going to eat it.”
“Uhh, your ice is fit for human consumption right?”
“…Probably?”
“You didn’t think to ask that before I gave it to him?!”
“I mean, it’s just frozen water that comes from his body, right?”
“This is starting to have weird implications that I don’t want to think too hard about.”
Finally, something clicks in Bakugou’s brain, and memories of the previous night flood back to him. Good ones this time. Mario Kart. Cards Against Humanity. Watching god damn My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic and falling asleep on Kirishima’s shoulder somewhere along the way.
A puddle of water forms in his mouth as the ice melts and he doesn’t even think before swallowing it. He stares at Kirishima, relieved but confused as fuck. Kirishima grins.
“Better?” Kirishima asks, continuing after Bakugou nods. “Ready to try slowing down your breathing?”
Bakugou watches Kirishima’s chest expand with exaggerated breaths for a moment before trying to match them up with his own. He has to breathe through his nose at first to give the ice cube time to fully melt. When he finally gets enough air into his lungs to speak, he leans to the side to look incredulously at Sero. “What the fuck kind of witchcraft shit was that?!”
“Dude, I have no clue! Denki did it for me once when I was having a panic attack and it worked like a charm. Isn’t it so cool! I don’t really know if it’s the kinda thing that’ll work twice but, hey, I’m glad it could help this time at least.”
Bakugou’s face burns, only just now realizing that Sero and Todoroki had to see him like that in the first place. “Wish you didn’t have to see that shit,” He grumbles, looking away.
“Nah man, it’s all good. I’m just glad we were here to help snap you out of it. I know how hard it is when you get stuck in a headspace like that.”
“Why do you think we were out here to begin with?” Todoroki says and Bakugou now notices how exhausted he looks. “I’m surprised I didn’t wake anybody else up, to be honest.”
As if on cue, the bedroom door opens again and Kaminari and Mina peek their heads out, squinting against the hallway light.
“Dang, you guys having a party without us?” Kaminari whispers, yawning.
“Everyone okay?” Mina asks, sleepy gaze taking stock of everyone’s current state. “Is it group hot comfort drinky time?
Kirishima smiles and then nods. “I think it’s group hot comfort drinky time.”
Bakugou has no clue what that means, but if Shitty Hair thinks it’s a good idea it can’t be that bad, right?
Pausing long enough for Sero to disappear into their room only to re-emerge with an armful of blankets, the group begins migrating downstairs. Apparently, they’re not the only ones awake because they pass by Shoji in the stairwell on his way up. At first, Bakugou thinks he’s using his six arms (tentacles?) to carry laundry or something. But upon closer inspection, he sees a familiar bird head poking out of what looks like a Nine Inch Nails blanket.
“Aww, he looks so cute and tiny!” Mina coos.
Shoji looks caught, glancing from the group to the bundle in his arms, then back up. “Not a word to Fumikage.”
“Right! Sorry! Goodnight!” Mina whispers back, waving for the group to keep walking. Her, Pikachu, and Soy Sauce giggle to themselves, seeming to find great joy in seeing their usually dark and brooding classmate look so small and sweet.
“Do you think Shoji would hold me like that if I asked nicely?” Sero ponders.
“He must give the best hugs and cuddles, oh my god.” Kaminari adds dreamily.
“He can probably still hear you, you dumb fucks,” Bakugou says with a snort.
“Uh, yeah?”
“And?”
When they finally make it down to the common room, Mina orders Bakugou and Todoroki to sit on a couch each. Sero holds out his pile of blankets to Bakugou who scoffs. “I’m fine.”
Sero tugs out the one Bakugou knows is weighted, fixing him with a look that says ‘you sure about that?’.
Stomping down on the part of him that doesn’t want to accept the help, he begrudgingly holds a hand out. “If it’ll get you off my ass about it.”
“You’re welcome.” Sero shoots him a finger gun and a wink then walks over to join Todoroki, putting an arm around his shoulders again. Todoroki immediately leans into them, resting his head on their shoulder and looking infinitely more at ease.
Bakugou looks away when Sero starts carding a hand through Todoroki’s hair, feeling like he’s intruding on an intimate moment. Instead, he looks at the blanket in his hands, unsure how to go about using it without triggering memories of his nightmare. He settles for just laying it across his lap, giving him some pressure without feeling surrounded or trapped as he would with it around his shoulders.
Mina reappears from the kitchen, holding a bunch of small boxes. “Alright, I’ve got hot chocolate, spiced apple cider, and a bunch of tea including some fancy shit that I can’t pronounce that’s probably Momo’s. What can I do ya for?”
“Got any sha-mom-ih-lay?” Kaminari ask, biting his lip.
“Sha…you mean chamomile?”
“I know what I said. You got the goods or what?”
A hand waves just inside Bakugou’s peripheral vision and he turns to see Kirishima trying to get his attention in order to ask, “Which do you want?”
“There’s some…ginger tea in there that’s mine,” Bakugou says, feeling oddly self-conscious about it. Kirishima gives him a thumbs up, grabbing the correct box from Mina’s arms and then walking into the kitchen.
After that Bakugou sits silently on the couch, starting to feel sleepy again as he listens to Kaminari and Sero talk about some skateboarding anime they’ve gotten into recently. Admittedly, it sounds interesting enough that he wonders if he should give it a watch sometime. Apparently one of the main characters looks like Shitty Hair.
When Mina and Kirishima return with everyone’s drinks, he’s grateful for the kick of ginger in his that helps settle his stomach and wakes him up a little. Falling back asleep feels like a bad idea, no matter how tempting finally getting some rest sounds.
Kirishima sits on the couch next to him, still leaving a bit of space between them. “Good?” He asks, indicating the mug of tea.
Bakugou nods. He doesn’t usually add honey to his but welcomes the hint of sweetness it brings. It makes sense, in a weird way. Like how Kirishima’s sweetness balances out his sharp edges without getting rid of them entirely.
It’s a horribly sappy thought, but one that brings a small smile to his face nonetheless.
When he drains his cup and puts it on the nearby coffee table Kirishima asks, “Is touch still bad right now?”
Bakugou thinks about it for a moment, unsure. “Don’t want anything around me or holding me. But I want…” He trails off with a huff, struggling to figure out how to articulate what is and isn’t triggering at the moment.
Kirishima frowns in thought before an idea seems to occur to him. He pulls one of the couch pillows over onto his crossed legs. “Would lying on my lap be okay?”
Bakugou nods but then shakes his head. “Don’t wanna fall asleep.”
Kirishima nods in understanding and then pats the pillow. “I’ll keep you safe, promise. And I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?”
“Okay…” Keeping the weighted blanket draped over his lower half, Bakugou scoots over and cautiously lies down, head sinking into the pillow and one hand coming up to rest just above Kirishima’s knee. He takes it as a good sign when he doesn’t immediately start panicking.
“This okay? Do you want me to keep my arms off of you?”
There’s a moment of silence between them as Bakugou recalls how relaxed Todoroki looked earlier with Sero’s hand in his hair. It seems like such a silly thing to ask for, he shouldn’t want to be treated so softly. After all the kindness he’s been shown by the whole Bakusquad tonight, it feels like asking for something so gentle will make him burst.
Making up his mind, Bakugou twists in his lap enough to find and grab Kirishima’s hand, placing it on his head before he can chicken out.
“Works for me,” Kirishima says with a quiet laugh.
The second Kirishima starts carding his fingers through his hair he knows he made the right choice. He fights off sleep as long as he can, now with the added incentive of getting to be awake to feel each soothing pass of Kirishima’s hand. But soon enough, he’s lulled into a blessedly peaceful sleep.
__________
Morning comes too quickly and he definitely has a kink in his neck, but he still manages to feel strangely well-rested. His body groans in protest as he moves to sit up, though, joints not too appreciative of spending the last couple of hours curled up on a lumpy couch.
The first thing he notices is they’re not alone in the common room. If he wasn’t so distracted by how ridiculous Kirishima looks conked out next to him, he thinks he’d be losing his shit over how many people probably saw him fast asleep on his lap.
Scratch that, he’s definitely freaking out about it.
What were they all thinking, falling asleep in such a public place where anyone could see them? He barely has time to be impressed he fell asleep at all, given how paranoid the big open space usually makes him in the dark.
Looking back at Kirishima, he remembers what made him feel so safe.
Looks like he kept his promise.
“Morning, sleeping beauty!” Kaminari shouts from the kitchen, ruining his dwindling peace as always.
“Fuck off, Pikachu!” Bakugou shouts by way of greeting, only regretting it when Kirishima shifts like he’s about to wake up.
“You should definitely check the groupchat when you get a chance,” A nearby Sero says, snickering to himself.
Before he can even start to wonder what the fuck that could mean, his thoughts are interrupted by Ponytail who stops to address him on her way to the kitchen.
“Good morning! Would you like some tea, Bakugou? I was about to brew some for myself.” She seems shy as she asks, but nothing compared to how nervous she usually acts around him.
Bakugou stares uncomprehendingly.
What the fuck is going on? Has he lost his touch as an intimidating unapproachable asshole? Is it because Kirishima is there? Does she not respect him anymore? He can make his damn tea himself!
“He likes the ginger tea!” Sero says, and Bakugou wants to strangle them.
Ponytail smiles. “Oh, wonderful! I can make you a cup, if you would like?”
“He’d love some, he’s probably just too embarrassed to admit it.”
“I can speak for myself, Soy Sauce!”
“It’s really no hassle at all…”
“And I can make my own goddamn tea!”
“Chill bro, she’s just trying to be nice.”
Bakugou turns in time to see Ponytail’s smile start to waver. A sick part of him finds satisfaction in her discomfort, thinking maybe things will return to normal with all these extras that seem to think he’s their friend now. Then she straightens her back, looking determined.
“Would you like milk? Sugar? Honey?”
When the fuck did these extras actually grow a spine around me?!
His first instinct is to think it’s because they’ve seen him be so weak recently that surely they just don’t see him as a threat anymore. The thought makes him sick, his ego kicking and screaming that he’s above all of these losers and their stupid niceness.
“Who’s calling you honey?” Kirishima says around a yawn, still half-asleep.
Sero cackles while Bakugou’s cheeks start to feel suspiciously warm.
“Honey for my tea, dumbass.”
“Ooo, I’d love some tea!” Kirishima exclaims, looking much more awake.
“I’d be more than happy to make you some too, Kirishima.”
“Please? Anything fruity is fine. Oh! With honey please!”
“Of course. Bakugou?”
“I’m fine, Ponytail.” Bakugou snaps through gritted teeth.
“Alright! Well, let me know if you change your mind.” With another hesitant smile, she continues into the kitchen, calling out soft greetings to the people inside.
Bakugou slumps back on the couch, crossing his arms in irritation. He knows he’s bad at reading social situations in general, but trying to read his classmates recently has been an all-new kind of hellscape. It was so easy when everyone avoided him completely unless absolutely necessary. At least then, he knew where he stood with the damn extras. But now he’s at a complete loss.
She’s being just as nice to him as she is to Shitty Hair. But why?
Kirishima pokes his arm. “What complex equation are you trying to solve this time?” He asks, looking curious, if a little amused.
“Kiri, can you please explain to your honey that some people are nice because they’re nice people and don’t have any ulterior motives?” Sero says as he stands to leave. “I’ve gotta go make sure my honeys aren’t burning down the kitchen.”
“Honeys? Plural? You finally make it official with Todoroki?” Kirishima teases, grinning.
Sero cringes, holding their face in their hands. “No. Shut up. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“He obviously likes and trusts you a lot, dude. You gotta go for it at some point!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you from all the way over here in the kitchen!” Sero yells from the doorway, making his escape.
“Oh? You want me to say it louder?” Kirishima yells back.
Sero whips back around to glare at him, frantically gesturing for him to zip his mouth shut.
“You’re no fun.” Kirishima pouts and then dutifully copies the zipping motion over his mouth. He turns back to Bakugou, a question forming on his lips, but he’s already standing to make his own escape.
“Gotta do my morning run.” It’s not entirely a lie, he’s just conveniently leaving out the fact he’s going right now to avoid having to talk about his stupid fucking feelings.
“We still wanna ask Aizawa-sensei about going off campus today?” Kirishima asks off-handedly and Bakugou’s stomach drops.
Shit. He’d sort of forgotten about that. While a part of him desperately wants to spend time with the one person he does understand, he doesn’t think he could stand being around other people so soon.
Kirishima must read his hesitation. “We can wait and go tomorrow if you need more time to recharge after last night? I know it gets to be a lot.”
Bakugou’s stomach squirms, but he’s able to grumble out, “Tomorrow would be nice.”
“Okay, cool! Maybe we can ask him later today then head to dinner together after?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
Kirishima shifts like he’s going to stand up, then pauses, seeming to contemplate something. He sticks a fist out towards him with a smile. “I’ll text you later?”
Bakugou bumps his fist with his own, confused but oddly endeared. “Not like I can stop you, weirdo.”
With that, he finally makes his escape to his room.
As he starts to change into more workout-friendly clothes, he freezes. A whole new kind of panic sets in when he remembers he took his goddamn binder off last night so he hasn’t been wearing it all morning.
Unwelcome thoughts are quick to flash in his brain.
What if they saw, you moron!
Bakugou grips the bottom of his hoodie, unable to bring himself to take it off.
No wonder your classmates are babying you now.
He shoves his bathroom door open, turning sideways in the mirror and glaring at his reflection. Checking for curves that would give him away.
They know you’re a fucking girl.
Bakugou turns away and slumps onto the floor, hands tugging painfully at the roots of his hair. Shut the fuck up! The more he tries to shove the thoughts away, the quicker they come back, taunting him mercilessly.
It’s not that he’s actively been keeping it a secret, but he also doesn’t exactly want it to be anyone else’s business either.
He lets out a frustrated growl. “Think rationally, dammit!”
He’s not ashamed. He’s not.
So then what stops him from getting dressed in the same changing rooms as the other guys? Kirishima changes with them, right? And he’s never mentioned anyone giving him shit for it.
Why can’t he even feel comfortable in his own body around the one person in school who’s like him?
That you know of. A part of him chimes in and he stops short.
What was it Mina said? Their whole class was gay spaghetti or someshit? Could she have also meant…
Bakugou takes out his phone, frantically typing out a message to Kirishima.
King Explosion Murder: Has anyone ever given you shit for being trans? Like in our class?
He glares at his phone impatiently, hardly breathing until he sees those three little black dots appear.
Shitty Hair: surprisingly no??
Shitty Hair: confused at first maybe, but never like outwardly antagonistic about it
Shitty Hair: I mean mineta might’ve made a weird comment once or twice but that got shut down by mina and tsu pretty quick
Shitty Hair: why do you ask??
He wants to ask him more questions, but the blooming pain in his skull tells him he has way too many thoughts to deal with as it is. His skin starts to feel itchy with the need to get up and move so he pushes himself up off the floor.
Facing off with his clothes drawers once more, he almost opts for a sports bra over his usual sized-up binder. The anxiety that spikes through him at the thought has him reaching for the latter. Not yet.
He’s grateful for the decision when he makes it to the running track only to find no less than ten students already there. The one plus side of running at the ass crack of dawn is minimal people, something he now sorely misses as he starts to warm up. Not sure if the feeling of eyes on him is real or imagined, he shoves on a pair of headphones.
Scrolling through his couple of playlists, his eyes land on one called ‘Bakugou’s New Jim Workout Playlist!’ and he groans in disbelief. He almost forgot about the purposefully misspelled abomination Mina made for him a few weeks back to ‘broaden his music horizons’ (which turned out to be code for “a fuck ton of pop and Nicki Minaj”).
With a silent ‘Fuck it why not.’ he starts the playlist and begins moving. He figures that of all the ways he could distract himself from his problems, he might as well do it via some woman rapping about stupid hoes.
He unconsciously pushes his body harder than he probably should, desperately reaching for one of those rare moments of blissful, focused calm only a solid workout can evoke. The relief when it finally washes over him is intoxicating as all other thoughts float away.
A while later, a painful twinge in his side forces him to slow back down, bringing him crashing back to reality. His first instinct is to brush it off as just a stitch in his side, but when breathing continues to agitate it, he realizes it might be because of the binder.
Shit, he’s usually so careful not to overwork himself when he’s wearing it. He has no clue how long he’s been out here, but the silence from his headphones tells him at least long enough to get through the whole chaotic playlist.
He forces himself to take the time to properly cool back down, taking extra care to stretch his upper body. Finally satisfied he isn’t going to pull any other muscles like a moron, he makes his way back to his room in record time.
Impatience and sweaty skin make taking his binder off a much more infuriating ordeal than usual, causing him to almost topple over on multiple occasions. His body sings in relief when the restricting article of clothing finally gets tossed on his bed to be put away later.
He needs a shower right the fuck now.
A half-hour later he collapses on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He contemplates getting a headstart on some topics he knows they’ll be covering in class next week but worries it won’t keep his attention well enough to distract him. An image pops in his head of asking Sero to borrow his Switch so he can play more Hades, but he waves it away just as quickly.
His phone buzzes and suddenly he remembers Sero’s comment earlier about how he should check the groupchat. He has to scroll through hundreds of surely ridiculous messages before he finds a picture that isn’t a stupid reaction meme and stops dead.
”You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Bakugou groans.
Staring back at him is a picture of him fast asleep on Kirishima’s lap followed by a message from Dunce Face that makes him want to beat his ass.
cool guy syndrome: LOOK AT THE CUTE LIL POMERANIAN I FOUND IN THE DORM!!! :D think it bites though :((((
spider-man wannabe: holy shit im totally framing this
spider-man wannabe: you’re so dead when he wakes up and sees this
cool guy syndrome: so worth it
cool guy syndrome: yo could you get this one framed too while you’re at it ;)))
Bakugou can’t help snorting at the next picture, featuring a drooling Sero and Todoroki both with impressive bed hair. At least he’s not the only one, he supposes. He’s definitely still plotting Dunce Face’s murder though.
spider-man wannabe: okay but we cute af tho
cool guy syndrome: hard vouch. yall cute af.
miss rarity: OH MY GOD THESE ARE SO CUTE STOPPPPP BAKUGOUS GONNA KILL YOU
miss rarity: look how soft and relaxed he looks awwww I didn’t know he had it in him
miss rarity: WAIT ARE YOU AND ROKI OFFICIAL ?!?
A new message pops up so he scrolls back down to the bottom, sure he can imagine how the rest of that conversation went.
shark bait ooo haha: oh no guys i think he’s seen it
cool guy syndrome: ive accepted my fate dw
rainbow dash kinnie: ITS ON FUCKING SIGHT PIKACHU
spider-man wannabe: do you guys hear explosions? I think I hear explosions
cool guy syndrome: I KNOW YOU THINK ITSNCUTE BLASTU ADMIT IT
rainbow dash kinnie: AND WHOEVER THE HELL CHANGED MY NICKNAME TO THIS YOU’RE SECOND
miss rarity: oh come now, it’s at least 20 percent cooler than your last one DAHLING
rainbow dash kinnie: You’re all dead to me.
shark bait ooo haha: what did I do?!?
spider-man wannabe: what did I do?????
Unable to help himself, he scrolls back up to look at the picture again. And. Okay. Yeah. Fuck. It’s kind of cute. And maybe he saves it to his camera roll. And maybe he sets it as his home screen wallpaper. It’s not like any of those bozos ever have to know.
He’s a little weirded out by the concept of seeing what he looks like asleep, but Mina was right. Picture-Bakugou looks completely at ease, free from the ever-present resting bitch face his dad always teases him and the old hag for having even when asleep.
Bakugou yawns, only now remembering the abysmal amount of sleep he got. After a moment’s deliberation, he gives in to the urge to try and take a power nap, making sure to set a timer so he doesn’t fuck up what little of a sleep schedule he has. Exhaustion pulls him under almost immediately, sparing him from his usual plague of pre-sleep thought spirals.
It’s a few hours later when he wakes up, feeling only slightly groggy. He glances at his messages, hoping he hasn’t missed any from Kirishima. Instead, he’s confused to find multiple messages from Mina.
A small snort escapes his nose when he opens their private messages only to be bombarded with what he assumes is meant to be the ‘wholesome memes’ she was talking about last night. Pictures of cute cats covered in hearts and sparkles, a possum telling him to ‘hydrate or die straight’, and a particularly grumpy-looking pomeranian aggressively telling him he’s loved and appreciated all stare back at him.
Not entirely sure what to make of how weirdly emotional they leave him feeling, he sends back a selfie of himself flipping her off and calls her a softie. She responds with a selfie of her own, contrasting his scowl with a blinding grin and a finger heart. Bakugou scoffs, reminded of why she’s one of Kirishima’s best friends.
Then a notification pops up from Kirishima of just a side-eye emoji and he gets distracted trying to decipher whatever the fuck that means. Thankfully, Kirishima is pretty quick to elaborate.
Shitty Hair: good morning sunshine <3 wanna go find aizawa-sensei w me?
King Explosion Murder: I just gagged a little never call me that again
Shitty Hair: :(
Shitty Hair: :(((
King Explosion Murder: If anyone’s the sunshine it’s you dumbass
Shitty Hair: :D
King Explosion Murder: Oh my god forget I said that
Shitty Hair: >:D
Shitty Hair: brb screenshotting for proof
Bakugou slaps his phone face down onto the bed and holds his face in his hands for a moment, groaning in embarrassment. Kirishima is going to be the death of him and they haven’t even gone on a date yet.
Someone starts knocking on his door incessantly and his body instinctively goes on high alert. The voice that calls out ‘Wakey, wakey!’ from behind it is teasing and playful, making him feel foolish for reacting so severely. The realization that of course, it’s Shitty Hair, doesn’t keep him from snapping a harsh “Gimme a damn minute!” back at him. He tugs on his binder and favorite skull t-shirt and then opens the door to a smiling Kirishima with his hair down. Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and ruffles his red hair. “You’re like a goddamn dog waiting to go on a walk.”
“Am I at least a cute dog?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re dodging the question.”
“I hate you.”
Kirishima fixes him with his biggest, roundest puppy dog eyes and Bakugou lets out a long sigh. Fighting through the squirming in his stomach, he huffs and then glares at him. “Yes. You’re a cute dog, dumbass.” Each word is like pulling teeth, but Kirishima’s triumphant smile and fist pump in response makes it more than worth the effort.
“Oh, also! I already told Aizawa-sensei I wanted to talk to him, so he should be chilling in the teacher’s lounge...”
A far-too-short walk later, the door to the teachers’ lounge looms ahead of them, mocking Bakugou for being nervous as they steadily get closer. Before he can overthink the situation any further, though, Kirishima barges right in and happily calls out Aizawa-sensei’s name. Bakugou almost bolts right back out when he spots tall blond hair, but quickly recognizes it as belonging to Present Mic instead of All Might.
“What is it now, problem children?” Aizawa says tiredly, sitting up from where he was lounging back on the couch.
“Sup, yo? What can we do ya for, little man?” Yamada says from right beside him, far too loudly in comparison. When he spots Bakugou he grins. “Aww, yeah! And how’s my favorite bad boy?”
Bakugou scowls. He swears he can already feel a headache coming on and wonders how Aizawa can stand being around him as often as he seems to be.
Aizawa looks at Kirishima and then sends Bakugou one of his signature unreadable looks, so he turns his scowl on him instead. For a moment it’s like they’re having the world's most ridiculous staring contest—not that he’d have any chance of winning against the pro of not blinking—but then Aizawa quirks the tiniest of smiles and Bakugou is even more lost than before.
He follows as Kirishima sits on the chairs set up across from the couch and tunes back into the conversation in time to hear him ask, “So, I totally get if this is off the table. But we were wondering if we could get permission to go off-campus tomorrow. Like, just the two of us.” He cringes, looking like he wishes he could shove that last sentence back in his mouth. “Nowhere too crazy! Or heavily crowded or anything.”
Aizawa and Yamada both glance fleetingly at Bakugou and then at each other and he has to grit his teeth in frustration. He wants to argue that they can’t keep him under pro-hero supervision forever and that his unofficial but heavily implied ‘dorm-house arrest’ after Kamino ended months ago.
Aizawa sighs. “I can’t let students go off campus alone…”
“But…?” Yamada wheedles, side-eyeing Aizawa with an impish grin just as Kirishima starts to deflate.
“But, if you were to take a pro hero from the faculty with you, I shouldn’t have too much of an issue clearing it with the school with your parents’ permission.”
Aizawa and Yamada look at each other again and Bakugou gets the feeling they’re having some kind of silent conversation.
Yamada grins. “And…?”
Aizawa sighs again, like a man sentencing himself to death. “And Hizashi and I were going into town for an art show tomorrow anyway.”
“We don’t need two babysitters,” Bakugou grumbles as Kirishima says, “No way, you’d do that? Thank you!”
“We won’t cramp your style, yo! We’ll just be nearby if you start a bar fight and need backup. Right, Shouta?”
“We can’t even drink, sensei…”
“Start a fight with anyone and I’m taking you straight back to UA, got it?” Aizawa aims the statement mostly at Bakugou who scoffs.
“Okay, mom.”
“That includes you, Hizashi.”
“Okay, Da—”
Aizawa’s capture scarf wraps around Yamada’s mouth just long enough to drown out the rest of his sentence before dropping back down. There’s a sharp glare from Aizawa followed by Yamada raising both his hands in surrender. Yamada’s grin grows ever-so-slightly and Bakugou nearly chokes on air when Aizawa looks flustered of all things.
The longer Bakugou watches the two pro heroes, the more he realizes how much affection there is hidden in their interactions. The more carefully he considers how close they’re sitting, how much time they spend together, and why watching them feels familiar.
He stares at them. “No fucking way.”
The other three occupants of the room turn to him in confusion.
“Holy shit, you two are—” He stops himself before saying ’fucking’ because he really doesn’t need to think about his teachers’ sex lives right now. Kirishima sends him a confused look while Aizawa and Yamada surprise him with their total nonchalance.
Yamada shrugs, smiles, and then reaches into the front of his shirt to pull out a necklace looped around a ring. Aizawa rolls his eyes and then follows suit, pulling his matching necklace out and flashing the ring before carefully tucking it back under his scarf.
“You’re—” Kirishima stops short, looking stunned and then awed.
“It’s not exactly public public knowledge, ya dig?”
“Not a secret, but not everyone’s business.” Bakugou guesses.
“Bingo, little listener.”
“That’s so cool!” Kirishima gushes. “Kind of like…well…” He glances at Bakugou for a moment, so full of excitement and open adoration that it makes him feel warm all over despite the majorly embarrassing conversation.
Eventually, Kirishima and Yamada go off on an entirely unrelated tangent, which leaves Bakugou and Aizawa to watch in silence.
After a moment, Bakugou bites the bullet and asks, “Is he who you finally told?”
Aizawa gazes at Yamada, showing a rare moment of softness and looking absolutely smitten if a little bittersweet. “I think you already know the answer to that.” He glances at Kirishima and then back at Bakugou, not even asking the question.
Bakugou swallows. “Yeah.”
Aizawa’s lips quirk into the tiniest of smirks, likely keeping an ‘I told you so’ at bay. Instead, the next words out of his mouth are somehow ten times worse. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
“Ugh, gross.”
Aizawa leaves him alone after that, standing to go pour himself and Yamada new cups of coffee. When he returns, Yamada takes the cup with a smile, kissing a now disgruntled Aizawa on the cheek.
Looking over at Kirishima as he and Yamada continue to talk and gesticulate wildly, a fragile part of him starts to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s a little proud of himself too.