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Hitoshi is stalking through the halls of the building he spent the last two weeks observing, silently creeping along and trying to figure out the layout, the doors, taking note of the safe spots and most importantly, he's trying his damn hardest to not run into any of the occupants of the building.
It's going decently well, his quirk helping slightly with it, because while he can't really read any minds, he can feel them and so he knows when someone is getting close to him, which makes it easy to avoid them.
So far he's outmanoeuvred four people, knocking them unconscious with only one hit and tying them up for the police to collect later and he's feeling good about his progress.
Right until he rounds a corner and slams into someone so sturdy he stumbles a step back, his chest where he impacted with a shoulder smarting slightly and Hitoshi has just enough time to think "What the fuck" and "How the fuck" when a hand reaches for his face.
Hitoshi stops trying to find stable footing and stumbles back another step, expertly evading the hand and he finally gets a good look at his attacker.
Or would be attacker, because fucking hell.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hisses and Bakugou narrows his eyes at him.
"I can ask you the same thing, eyebags. This is my playground."
"I don't think so, you're going to ruin everything."
This mission is reliant on stealth and silence and not on indiscriminate explosions that are not only going to attract everyone's attention but also do irreparable damage to this decrepit building’s structure.
"Oh, shut the hell up," Bakugou mutters and thankfully doesn't resist much when Hitoshi pulls him around a corner because he feels someone else coming their way.
Which actually makes Hitoshi's thoughts freeze for a moment because he hadn't noticed Bakugou at all, hadn't felt his mind at all, and how the fuck is that even possible? Sure, some minds feel more familiar than others, he certainly doesn't take active note of Aizawa’s anymore, but Bakugou?
That just seems unlikely as all fuck, but before Hitoshi can continue to wonder about that, Bakugou makes an impatient noise.
"I get it, your senses are superior, now let fucking go of me," he snaps and brushes Hitoshi's hands off, but he doesn't actually step aside, which means they are still mostly pressed together.
"You're just too fucking loud," Hitoshi mutters back, concentrating to see if anyone else is coming their way and when he finds that he doesn't sense another presence, he takes that step away. "Don't follow me and don't bring down this building, there are still people I need to ask questions here," Hitoshi hisses at him and then promptly leaves Bakugou standing there, hopefully gaping after him in outrage.
The thought amuses Hitoshi.
Still, he reaches up for his earpiece, because what the fuck is going on here and he hears the crackle of a connected line.
"What the hell is Dynamight doing here?" he snaps out and he feels Aizawa's world-weary sigh more than he hears it.
"The Commission saw it fit to send back-up for this mission," comes the short reply and Aizawa immediately closes the channel again, which.
Rude. But also fair, because it’s not as if Hitoshi can say anything to something the Commission itself ordered, but he doesn't have to like it.
He also doesn't have the time to complain to Aizawa about it, so he guesses the hint at silence was more than considerate of him.
Hitoshi doesn't have to like it, but he can still do his goddamn job as long as Bakugou doesn't go in guns blazing. Or bombs. Whatever.
Well—Hitoshi probably can use the distraction to his advantage if he has to, though he still hopes he doesn't have to.
He was looking forward to an easy, quiet mission, and he is not actually prepared to handle a literal time bomb walking around these halls as if it means nothing.
Still, Hitoshi trusts Bakugou to be a goddamn professional and to not completely ruin this, so he pushes him out of his mind and gets on with his own plan.
And it's going good, it's all going great, right until a slight tremble runs through the entire building.
For a moment Hitoshi burns with rage because it must be Bakugou causing this, but then he looks down the hallway he's creeping along and he meets confused red eyes and everything freezes for a second before the entire building starts to tremble and sway.
"Earthquake," Hitoshi breathes out and he barely has any time to process that, to realise that this building is not going to hold up here, when Bakugou explodes himself across the hallway.
"Watch out!" he screams, the force of his explosion causing more cracks in the walls to appear and Hitoshi is too caught off guard to do anything but stand where he is and wait until Bakugou is there, crashing into him with a force that takes Hitoshi's breath away.
He has no clue where Bakugou is aiming to go but he does notice that a slap of the ceiling comes crashing down right where Hitoshi used to stand and then all hell truly breaks loose.
Everything is happening too fast to really process it, there's only enough time for instinctual reactions and Hitoshi remembers being pushed out of the way and pushing out of the way more than once and by the time everything comes to a stop, he's flat on his back, breathing hard, his side smarting and a cut on his brow slowly trickling blood down his temple but there are no serious injuries to report.
And he hopes the same goes for Bakugou, because he's going to rip him a new one for bruising his ribs like that.
"Bakugou?" Hitoshi gets out, his voice rough from all the dust in the air and for the longest moment there is only silence before he gets a huffed breath in response.
"What?" Bakugou bites out and there's more pain in his voice than Hitoshi would like, so he scrambles onto his side and then pushes himself onto his knees, before he fumbles for the small flashlight he always has in one of his many pockets.
"Status?" Hitoshi snaps, his hands only slightly shaking but he gets the light on, and he doesn't like the way Bakugou is laying at all because the angle of his arm looks wrong.
"Status, Bakugou," Hitoshi says, more urgently as he shuffles over to him and Bakugou has the audacity to roll his eyes at him.
"A mild concussion and one fucking broken arm," he gripes out and roams his eyes over Hitoshi. "You?"
"Small cut on my brow and bruised fucking ribs," he gives back in the same tone of voice, because he doesn't appreciate Bakugou snapping at him like that and for a split second Bakugou’s face clouds over with guilt.
"That slab would have pancaked you," he finally says, not quite an apology and Hitoshi huffs out a breath.
"That's not the point, Bakugou," Hitoshi sighs as he seats himself more firmly, carefully surveying their surroundings.
It looks as if they are trapped in one of the many empty rooms this building has in abundance, and despite everything, it looks relatively stable.
There's no way out—joy—but at least nothing looks as if it's going to crumble the moment they breathe wrong so that's a plus.
"Why the fuck would you push me out of the way like that?" Hitoshi asks as he gets to his feet, carefully prodding and poking at the walls to test their stability.
The good news: everything is stable and unmoveable. The bad news: everything is stable and unmoveable.
There's no way Hitoshi can move any of these and with Bakugou's broken arm he can't count on him either.
"Maybe because you would have been dead otherwise?" Bakugou gives back, clearly exasperated and carefully pushes himself up with one arm, letting out a pained grunt as he moves his broken arm closer to his body.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe we might need you in this situation and that I am virtually useless?" Hitoshi says, sitting back down again, wordlessly motioning for Bakugou to give him his hand.
"Virtually useless?" Bakugou asks, clearly flabbergasted, even as he lets Hitoshi carefully take his hand.
"Feeling in all of your fingers?" Hitoshi asks as he carefully touches all of Bakugou’s fingertips and he waits for the nod of confirmation before he moves on, gently moving his own fingertips over the skin until he finds the break. "My quirk is not of any help here," he says as he checks the break over.
"It’s a clean fucking break, no need to freak out over it," Bakugou mutters, but his jaw is tight with pain. "And sorry for trying to keep you alive I guess. Besides, if we come across anyone here, your quirk is going to do more for us. I can just bring the building down. What's left standing, anyway."
"And you will," Hitoshi says, satisfied with his inspecting because it really is a clean break.
Breaks, really, because he felt two, but who is counting, after all.
"The fuck?"
"These walls are sturdy. I can't move them. You can."
"And kill us both in the process? I really should have let you get pancaked," Bakugou snaps out and Hitoshi clicks his tongue.
"You're pretty precise with your AP Shots. You'll aim it at the opposite wall and we'll just pray for the rest."
Bakugou blinks at him.
"Are you goddamn stupid, eyebags? I need both my arms for an AP Shot and guess what?" he says with a pointed look at his broken one. "Not going to happen."
Hitoshi clenches his jaw, instinctively biting back at his reply, because he could make Bakugou do that, despite the pain it would cause.
His quirk is strong enough for that now, but it's also wrong and Hitoshi would never, especially not to Bakugou, but then he watches Bakugou’s face go slack before it goes hard and Hitoshi knows he came to that same conclusion on his own.
"You can—"
"Shut the fuck up," Hitoshi cuts him off and gets back on his feet again. "If I find a weaker structure, can you blast it open with one hand?"
"If you want the entire room to come down on us, sure," Bakugou sighs out and great, there goes that hope. "Listen, troll doll."
"Nope," Hitoshi cheerfully says because he will not entertain that idea and he'd rather suffocate in this room than mangle Bakugou's arm any more.
"Will you be quiet for a goddamn minute," Bakugou sighs out. "You can get out if I do that."
"And leave you here? I can already hear the masses congratulate me for killing their number one."
"You would of course come back for me," Bakugou says and at least there's no doubt to his voice, Hitoshi has to give him that.
"I could also stay right here and not leave you in the first place," Hitoshi shoots back, because there is no way in hell he's going to leave Bakugou in this room and he can tell Bakugou wants to argue some more but then their comms crackle to life.
"Would it kill you to shut up one of these days?" Aizawa's dry drawl comes out and Hitoshi slumps with relief.
"Give me a reason to shut up and maybe I will," Bakugou snaps and Hitoshi scoffs.
"Well, Shinsou is right there, isn't he?" They don't even have to see him to know that he's rolling his eyes at them but it does take Hitoshi a second to understand his meaning.
When he finally gets it, he goes bright red in the face, and Bakugou is not doing much better.
"What the—"
"No way—"
"A rescue team is on the way, so please get a grip and don't make this situation any worse than it already is. We have your location, ETA ten minutes and then however long it takes to get to you. Do not do anything stupid until then."
Aizawa cuts the connection without waiting for a reply and that leaves them in an uncomfortable silence.
Hitoshi opens his mouth a few times, but when he can't find any words, he closes it again and again and every time he does it, Bakugou’s gaze goes sharper.
"Will you fucking stop imitating a fish," he finally snaps out and Hitoshi can't help himself, he just has to laugh at that.
"Sorry," he mutters when he gets himself under control again and Bakugou heaves out a sigh.
"It's not as if it's completely out of the blue," Bakugou says, his voice softer than Hitoshi is used to and Hitoshi curls up his legs so he can cross his arms over his knees and rest his head on them, slightly turned so he can watch Bakugou.
"Not completely," Hitoshi agrees after a long pause, because there have been moments, before.
They are not close, not really, but whenever they are somehow pushed together—by friends, during parties, joined missions—their snark feels comfortable in a way Hitoshi could never put into words.
And maybe it lead to him goading Bakugou on more happily than he would anyone else, and maybe he did step too close sometimes and maybe his gaze did drop down to his lips before.
And maybe his quirk didn't notice Bakugou as a separate mind at all and maybe, just maybe, that means something, too.
It's almost sobering to realise that Bakugou clearly had moments himself.
"Let's not do that here," Bakugou says and gently kicks Hitoshi's foot. "I doubt anyone wants to find us furiously making out anyway."
"Good assessment," Aizawa chimes in again and Hitoshi groans as he drops his head back against the wall.
"Will you fucking stop with that," he pleads and Bakugou snorts.
"We'll be with you in three minutes, you're kind of conveniently located. If I have to watch you make out, I'll expel you."
"No longer our teacher," Hitoshi reflexively says just as Bakugou says "Then close your goddamn eye," and it's ridiculous enough to make Hitoshi laugh again.
"Well, wouldn't want to rob him of his most important sense now," Hitoshi says and gets up, absolutely ready to get out of this room, but he does note how Bakugou’s face falls for a split second before he gets it under control again. "But maybe one for the road," he mutters and leans back down, just enough to give Bakugou a brief, soft kiss.
"You better accompany me to the hospital, eggplant," is Bakugou's reply to that and Hitoshi doesn't mention the way he slightly turns his head to brush his nose against Hitoshi's cheek.
"Sure thing, firecracker," Hitoshi agrees, right before a noise reaches them, indicating their imminent rescue.
Hitoshi can't say that it was a particularly pleasant situation to be caught in, all things considered, but with this outcome it's certainly not making the list of the worst ones either.
Especially not when—once they are out and safe and Bakugou is being loaded into an ambulance—Bakugou practically clings to him to make sure that he doesn't slink away and to this, Hitoshi can certainly get used to.