Work Text:
Ejirou has no idea how he had the bad luck to be teamed up with Monoma. He doesn't remember offending Aizawa-sensei recently, but he must have done something wrong.
Maybe it was the time last week when he almost blew up the microwave in the dorms. Or maybe it was because he'd slept in yesterday and almost been late to homeroom.
"Are you taking your sweet time on purpose?" he demands as the Phantom Thief twiddles his pretty little thumbs. Well—technically Monoma's dismantling an explosive that could potentially take out the whole block, but from where Ejirou's standing, it looks like pretty much the same thing. He certainly doesn't seem to be in any hurry about it. "Do you have any idea how many times I've been shot at in the last two minutes?"
The answer is: a lot. In fact, he's being shot at as they speak by snipers from the roof, using his body as a shield so Monoma doesn't, you know, die.
Monoma throws him an unimpressed look, though his fingers never stop working. He'd borrowed a dexterity quirk from a stander by for this, before Ejirou had yelled at everyone to get clear. "You're literally made of rock right now," he says. He makes a disapproving sound. "Or is it that you aren't up to the task? Tetsutetsu wouldn't be complaining at a time like this. Oh, but I forgot. That's because Class 3-B is—"
"Hey!" Ejirou says. He can feel the outrage bubbling up in his chest. "I've saved your life like a dozen times today, and it isn't even noon! How are you still such an ungrateful little—"
"And I've just saved the whole precinct," Monoma interrupts smugly, dusting off his hands where he's crouching beside the explosive. As if from a distance, Ejirou hears silence from the snipers; the pro heroes must have finally taken them down. "Which means I win."
Ejirou stares at him. "Since when did this become a competition? We're supposed to be working together."
"Are you afraid of a little competition, Kirishima-kun?" Monoma asks far too sweetly. "I didn't know you scared so easily."
Scowling, Ejirou crosses his arms. He knows the wide-eyed, innocent look on Monoma's face is literally calculated to make his blood burn, but he can't stop himself anyway. "I'll win any competition you want to name," he says.
Monoma makes a dismissive gesture. "As if," he says, and then raises one pointed eyebrow. "Are you going to help me up or not, Red Riot? Not very gentlemanly of you to make me ask, I must say."
Ejirou gapes at him, spluttering. He'd be tempted to walk away, except—the damn bastard is right. It isn't gentlemanly, and Ejirou has a code to live by, after all. He narrows his eyes and then shoves one hand out, and he doesn't even try to unbalance Monoma when he accepts the help standing up.
"Oh, good," Monoma says breezily. He steps out around Ejirou, then turns back and winks. "I was starting to think you were too busy flirting with me to be of any use around here."
"What the—Monoma!" Ejirou shouts as Monoma saunters off down the street.
"And you really should bring that along," Monoma adds, gesturing back dismissively at the de-armed explosive without looking. "Since you're so strong and manly and all. I wouldn't want to show you up."
"You—" Ejirou says. "You—"
Monoma turns back to him again. "Yes?" he asks innocently. "What about me?"
And all Ejirou can do is glower, scoop up the dismantled explosive, and storm after him.