Work Text:
1.
Kirishima loved living in the dorms. Sure, he missed his street and his moms and his neighbours and all his exclusive Crimson Riot posters that he didn't want to risk transporting to his dorm. Though the reason for moving in was.. terrifying, in a word, he liked the feeling of being close to 1A. He didn't have to worry about putting his family in danger, and if there was any danger at the dorms, he was an elevator and hallway away from some of the strongest upcoming heroes. (Even if they always left the kitchen messy—except Sato, who always used his dorm to make any food—or if they sometimes dragged him into playing video-games until 3AM.)
But.. it was just a little bit difficult to get a second to relax—Not that he didn't love his friends! He did, truly! However.. he does need to just breathe sometimes, especially after overdoing it with his quirk. He doesn't always have the energy to do everything he’d like to. Example being, his hair. The spikes had took a while for him to be satisfied with, and then learning the specific ways and care and products to use and committing the routine to memory was even harder.
He was pretty fast at getting it done now, but it did use a lot of hairspray (luckily he had managed to nab a sponsor, so he wasn't going into debt because of it) and if he kept the style up too long, it made his scalp sore, and then hurt to sleep on.
The day he decided to keep his hair down he's pretty sure it took a couple extra seconds for everyone (minus Mina) to recognise him, before they all started fawning over how well kept his hair seemed to be, which is something Kirishima himself is surprised about.. after all the hair dye and constant gel + hairspray combo he used daily, it should not be as soft as it is.
Mina started asking if this meant she could test all different styles of updos and braids he had all never heard of, (it doesn't even look like a pigs tail? they're all curly? .. but those are called drills?) though his hair was no longer than it had ever been throughout the entire time they've known each other, but he was fine to agree to them at some point, but tonight was Uno night, and if someone missed out on Uno night (Bakugo aside, it takes a lot of convincing to get him out of his room) Denki would pout to no end.
Luckily for him, they all got super into Uno.
It's the semi-finals. Sero V. Mina. The intense locking of eyes is meaner than some of the looks villains give before pulling some kind of kickass weapon, or Bakugo. Denki is pretending to still be annoyed he got out because maybe he's a little bit colourblind and messed up the red with a blue, completely forgetting his other “3” card he had could fit the one in play, but he's still leaned in, hands cupping his face as he watches in anticipation for the next card.
Kiri is running his hands through his hair, brushing it away from his ears, he was on team Mina here, but her cards weren't looking that hot. He leans back, his shoulder blades perfectly connect with the cushions on the sofa from where he sits on the floor, legs crossed. They were so over.
A card, placed by Sero. Blue 5.
Mina counters, a blue 6.
Sero hits her with a +2, and after waiting for her to pick up both cards, he throws down a wildcard. “I’m changin’ it to green.”
Mina and Kirishima frown, Sero laughs at their lack of a poker face. She’d just picked up two yellow cards. Still, she has a green 1, so she puts it down.
Sero is down to about three cards at this point, with Mina at six, but because Sero is evil and horrible he still throws down a +4, keeping the colour at green.
Kirishima throws his head back against the sofa, groaning something under his breath about how unfair it is that Sero is stupid good at card games. Mina complains something along the same lines too but begrudgingly picks up the card with a scowl.
Teasingly slow, he starts to place down one of his cards. A green 9. His usual smirk has a hint of cockiness behind it.
Mina immediately puts down a green 2 she had picked up in the +4 pile. She makes a point to huff and cross her arms.
He wiggles up his final card, and in a split second tapes it to the top of the deck, solidifying his win, seeing the game ended on a green 7.
Just over the sound of Sero gloating, Kirishima hears the familiar stomping footsteps enter the common area. His head naturally gravitates to the sound, and everyone else follows. Kaminari raises a hand, “Heyy, Bakugo! You joining us?”
Bakugo acknowledges them with a scoff, he stiffly looks over, “Yeah, as if.” He shoves a hand into his pocket, “I can't even grab something to eat without being bothered by you fuckers. Don’t you idiots have anything better to do, like study?” He gives a very pointed look to the four, but pauses when his eyes land on Kirishima. His eyes subtly widen for a brief moment, Kirishima would’ve missed it had he not been making direct eye contact with him.
“Ughh, but Uno’s more fun!” Kaminari retorts with a whine, followed by a much more hushed, “Not that you know anything about fun..”
Immediately, his eyes rip away from Kirishima, “What the hell did you say to me!?”
“Nothing!” Kaminari squeaks, but, after a few seconds, a shit-eating grin starts to appear on his face, “Just.. that you never relax, it's no sweat if you don't wanna play because you're no good, we can go easy on ‘ya.”
Oh..
One of the tricks to get Bakugo into doing anything. Provoking him by insinuating he would fail or is choosing to not do something because he can't, proven time and time again to make Bakugo’s blood boil. At this point, Bakugo really should learn not to fall for it, but it's especially something in that tone of voice Kaminari does that just pisses Bakugo off to no end.
Sero tries to suppress a laugh behind his hand as Bakugo starts to go off, “Hey! The hell’s that supposed to mean? I’ve played Uno before, idiot! I’m great! I’m the fuckin’ best, you loser!” His shoulders scrunching up, and he's leaning so far forward it's impressive how he isn't losing balance.
“Reallllly?” Kaminari musters the dumbest most disbelieving tone imaginable, and Bakugo looks like he's trying to explode him with his mind. He still might explode him. His free hand is cocking back like he's about to leap towards him.
Kirishima forever having to be the one to calm Bakugo decides to pipe up before any damage comes to the common room.. or Kaminari.. because he's currently charging Kirishima’s phone. “Well, we’re about to start another round,” He glances over to Sero, who nods and takes his tape off the deck and starts to shuffle the pack, “if you wanna prove us wrong?”
“Tch..” His raising arm drops to his side, and he takes a couple of limping steps to the table. He leans his arms on the back of the sofa. “I’d smoke all your asses!”
Sero, after reshuffling the cards and dealing out small piles, lifts one and holds it out in Bakugo’s direction, “Alright, then show us.” His tone has the same annoying lift that Kaminari’s did. Bakugo stares at the cards. An eyebrow raises and he reaches over to snatch them out of Sero’s hand. “Ha.. this isn't even gonna be a fair fight.” Bakugo glances at the cards, unfortunately, his poker face is impeccable, so Kirishima can't tell if the cards are any good or not.
“Oh? And you always fight fair, huh, Bakugo?” Kirishima cranes his head to look up at Bakugo. He notices as he speaks that his voice naturally starts to mimic the same tone Kaminari and Sero had, though, in Kirishima’s opinion, it sounded more like he was flirting.. which.. he kind of was, but, wasn't, because he doesn't want his friends nor Bakugo to actually know that. He tilts his head to the side, having to brush away a couple strands from his face to properly see him, a smile spreading across his face that he doesn't even know has formed until Bakugo starts spluttering and it drops.
“You— What— Ghk!— I don't have anything to prove to you idiots!” Small explosions form on his hand, like popcorn popping. He tosses the cards vaguely in Sero’s direction, who tapes them together before they scatter all over the floor. There's clear burn marks on them already. Bakugo quickly wipes the sweat off his hand and shoves them into his pocket, though, the small crackling noise is still audible. “I’m going to sleep, don't bother me, you nerds! Ya’ hear me?” He tries to sound annoyed, but if anything he sounds a little more like he's pleading.
As Bakugo starts to saunter off, Sero calls out, “Are we idiots or are we nerds? Make up your mind, man.”
“You’re all—.. You suck!”
They all stay silent until they hear the elevator close, and a collective sigh of relief releases from everyone, which quickly turn into giggling. Bakugo usually always takes the challenge, especially when it comes from Kaminari, but he just.. huffs off?
“That was weird, right? Why would he take the cards to begin with—”
“Mannn, look at the cards now! I spent over ¥1,000 on those!”
“Wait ‘till he’s the top hero and resell them, some crazed collector would go wild for that shit. Authentic Bakugo-exploded cards!”
“His cards weren't even bad or anything, he got two +4s..”
“Didn't he come here to get food? He's not gonna grab anything?”
Kirishima can't help but twirl a couple strands of hair in silence as all the others comment on whatever just happened, that was odd, he’ll be sure to ask Bakugo about it later, right now he needed to make up for losing the last game! (And he definitely needs a distraction from how cute that was! .. Bakugo would kill him if he knew that's what he was thinking—but it was!)
2.
“You’ll be focusing on quirk compatibility. Most have you have fought in duos before as strength matchups, but what if a villain has a quirk that compliments yours? How will you defend against that?” Aizawa leads them into a small training arena, “As for the space, heroes need to be prepared to fight in all kinds of situations, if you destroy five civilians homes taking down someone who stole a doughnut, you’re doing more harm than good.”
A couple classmates snicker at the prospect of becoming a hero just to deal with doughnut thiefs, but Aizawa’s cold glare quickly shuts them up. “Right. Pair up with who best can fight against your quirk, the fights will happen if alphabetical order, you get ten minutes now to pick partners and strategise.”
With that, Aizawa flips the hood of his sleeping bag and situates himself on the nearest bench to lay down on.
If this was Class A and B training, the obvious choice would be Tetsutetsu, but since it isn't, Kirishima immediately starts scanning the crowd for Bakugo, even through all their classmates unique appearances he could spot that spiky blond hair a mile away. Kirishima is weakened by continuous blows from his explosions, and Bakugo needs someone who is affected by his explosions to win, so it has to be the other.
“Hey, Bakugo! We gotta team for sure! Right?”
“Yeah, whatever.” As if some threat, he holds his palm up to set off a small explosion.
“Save it for the fight, man, I need you to give me everything you've got!” He strikes his classic fists-together hardened pose, and Bakugo reaches out of knock one of his hands down by grabbing his wrist, touch strangely gentle.
“Yeah? Well then don't be wasting your energy now either, ‘cause I never plan on holding back, and I don't expect you to either!”
“You got it!”
They get to sit in the bleachers and watch a couple of fights. It's really interesting to see how his classmates fight against something that works so well, but that already gives them intel on their opponents, by working with them previously they know their weaknesses and how to exploit them. A couple times in a match and would see Midoriya furiously scribbling in his notebook and mumbling, guess he thinks it's interesting too, that or he has some homework he really needs to finish before next class, wait, did they have homework for their next class? Kirishima doesn't remember, and he certainly didn't do any homework for that class.
Bakugo is secretly a huge nerd, proven by his un-delinquent-like grades and from all their study sessions. So, Kirishima leans back in his chair, trying to sound casual as he starts, “Hey, Bakugo,” the boy makes a grumble in response, “Do we have any home—” He's cut off by a booming voice.
“Eijiro Kirishima.”
“Shoot, nevermind, looks like we're up.” He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly.. he hadn't been paying attention to the match clearly, and they both raise from their seats to enter the arena.
There's a counter going down from ten to signal the start of their match. They're staring right at the other, doing last minute second stretches. Bakugo has that smirk that gives off the impression he thinks the fight will be over in no time, Kirishima has a smirk that says he's not gonna let that happen.
“3..”
“2..”
“We don't have homework, by the way.”
“1..”
He's not sure why that line throws him off, but it allows Bakugo to get the upper hand, stupidly. Now he'll have to work extra hard (literally) to win this. Which he plans on doing.
Not to say he wants to show off his strength to Bakugo, and make him, like, gape in awe or anything—not that Eijirou would be against it if he did—he's trying to win the fight for training purposes! Only! Totally!
And if it just so happens to come with an acknowledgment of his training or a “Not bad,” grumbled from behind a massive grenade glove then so be it, that's just the stuff he has to get used to from being strong. He is used to it.. mostly.. not so much when it's Bakugo’s voice, and Bakugo doesn't say stuff he doesn't mean, but he also doesn't exactly say what he does mean, so a compliment as small as it is, is actually a big deal, and it makes Kirishima feel a little warmer inside and his hands instinctively flex and activate his quirk (He wonders if that happens to other people when they get flustered..)
And he knows he never needs to hold back when it's Bakugo, and he never does either, which is why they're such great sparring partners, but maybe, there's a little part of Kirishima that freezes up when Bakugo is just about to pin him to the ground, and Kirishima definitely still has enough fight in him to avoid it, but doesn't. And he always chugs his drink afterwards so he can use refilling it as an excuse to get away for a couple seconds and calm his tinted face.
Something today, though? May it be the vigorous workout routine he had been following and seeing real improvement on and would like someone else to acknowledge, or the small proximity of the arena, Kirishima doesn't feel like freezing up today, he feels like getting Bakugo on the ground.
Is it weird to keep sparring with him when his brain keeps going to mush at the idea of Bakugo on top of him, or him on top of Bakugo? It's— It's not like it's actually anything sexual, he's just a little nervous at how close they are, and how Bakugo really digs his hands into the dirt so he can't move until he verbally taps out—which he always does probably just a little bit too late for platonic training partners—it's not like he's using it for some fantasy or whatever, but the idea Bakugo doesn't know, when he's the one constantly asking to spar, makes it feel like a dirty secret.
Which, technically, it kind of is.
He really needs to divert this train of thought to another station, one that starts running when Kirishima is lying in bed at night trying and failing to think of anything but Bakugo, God, he was really, totally, utterly, stupidly smitten. But this isn't Bakugo, this is a random villain he's fighting who happens to look just like Bakugo—Yeah, he's shapeshifted intoBakugo! So he's not gonna freak out when he pins or gets pinned by this criminal, because it's not his Bakugo he's fighting.—Not that Bakugo is his! Or anyone’s, for that matter!
(A memory of his—not his—Bakugo pinning him down in a match and in the most alarmingly sultry, smooth, voice Kirishima has ever heard come from anyone, let alone Bakugo, low, almost like a whisper—again, Bakugo! Whispering!— he says, “Caught you.” Kirishima has hardly moved this entire match but his heart rate is increasing rapidly.)
“HEY!”
It seems Bakugo, who's up above him in the air, has noticed Kirishima being a little.. distracted.
He needs to get his head in the game. He manages to harden his forearms and protect himself just as Bakugo strikes down on him. He throws a punch, needing to harden his face as Bakugo raises his hand for another explosion. He's not holding back, he's glad.
It's not like Kirishima has never won a fight against Bakugo, just that's it's a very rare occasion. Since he spent most fights on the defensive, it was pretty hard to get any good hits on him, at least, good enough to successfully win, so he needs to rely on his hardening to get closeup, and limit the affect of his blasts enough to subdue him and win.
He's learned a couple techniques to do this, but just as he's improved, it feels Bakugo improved tenfold. That just made Kirishima that much more determined to beat him.
Bakugo stumbles back, dangerously close to the edge of the arena. As long as Bakugo keeps his distance Kirishima can't get a hit in. He lunges forward, Bakugo counters by holding up both palms and sending a massive explosion his way.
Perfect, that's just what he wanted. See, he’d especially been training in protecting his body against certain extremes, one of them including heat. After watching Tetsutetsu’s fight with Todoroki (which was.. super fuckin’ manly..) he’d ask Tetsutetsu for tips to subjecting his body to the heat. He’d thought it best to not go through with his initial idea of sitting in an oven, but he’d started sparing with a burning Tetsutetsu. It’d been living some minor burn marks on his arms, but he could definitely tell he was building up a tolerance.
So, he barrels through the explosion and barely felt it! He watches for a split second as Bakugo’s eyes widen, before he lands on him, one hardened hand grabbing one of his, another hardened arm sitting just below his neck, and a knee on his chest.
As the final sting of the scorch leaves his body, Kirishima lets out a satisfied breath, but Bakugo’s wide eyes staring up at him makes it trail off to.. just.. a.. breath. His lip feels like he's quivering, and Bakugo can probably tell somethings up, but they always require a verbal tap-out when they spar, and Bakugo hasn't said a word.
Kirishima thinks if the positions were switched Bakugo would've questioned him about his silence, or maybe he’d still be boasting or saying some stupid line he probably practiced and keeps Kirishima awake at night.
A dumb idea. A dumb memory, pops back into Kirishima's head, but he's still a little worn out, and he's not sure if it's the heat of the explosion or something else making his breathing heavy and his palms sweaty and his brain not think straight. Despite his better judgment, and the fact that he doesn't want to die, he still leans in far, far too close to Bakugo.
“Caught you.”
Immediately, he feels a bubbling sensation on his wrist. Dazed, he looks up to see it originating from Bakugo’s hand. Kirishima lets out a wary chuckle, “Hahhh.. is that.. supposed to scare me?”
Bakugo looks up, like he isn't even aware of his own quirk, “Wh— N.. No. ‘M givin’ in.” He grunts out, turning his face away.
“Aw man, already? I didn't even get to show off half of my new cool moves..” He pouts, which isn't.. really.. true. He just always wants fights with Bakugo to go on for longer, and, in his head, they tend to end up straying away from a fight— And, god, he really doesn't need to think about this right now.
The bubbling sensation gets more intense as Bakugo turns his head back to face him, “Whatever, just— get the fuck off me now, idiot.”
“Got it.”
He rolls off Bakugo. He knows he doesn't like being touched for too long, so he doesn't take it personally.
3.
In defiance of appearances, Bakugo is actually really light. Maybe Kirishima is just really strong, and typically he would love for that to be the truth, but honestly, in his opinion, the other option is a million times more adorable.
And he's seen Kaminari lift Bakugo, so there's no way it's just his strength. Yup. Bakugo is really light.
He obviously.. shouldn't be. Not with those muscles.. or his cocky demeanour.
It's just a fun little fact Kirishima likes to know.. And maybe he likes to take advantage of it in training, to Bakugo’s dismay. But for the most part, he keeps it between them. Again, he knows Bakugo isn't a big fan of being touched, so he limits it as much as possible outside sparring.
However, being the designated person to calm Bakugo down, sometimes he has to stop him from trying to fight.
Such as today.
Bakugo must've woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or poked himself in the eye with his own spiky bangs, or maybe the pocket from his sagging trousers got stuck on a doorhandle, whatever it was, Bakugo was mad.
Anyone who glanced his way was a target, anyone who walked past him was a target, anyone who existed was a target, everyone was a target, except Kirishima.
He shouts another apology to the poor support student who had just been the recipient of Bakugo’s anger, she quickly shuffles down the corridor, throwing the pair an uneasy and frightened look from over her shoulder. He wants to flash her a smile, but as he turns he notices Bakugo is no longer standing beside him, but huffing back in the direction of the dorms.
Thank fuck. He just has to make sure he doesn't run into any of his classmates before he gets to his room. He tries to follow behind him quietly, though he feels like he should say something, he doesn't want to risk annoying the boy, then nobody would be able to pull him out of an argument.. and he doesn't really want to be on the receiving end of all the shouting..
It's such a pleasant day today too. There's not a cloud in the sky, a gentle breeze. It should be calm. They should be having a massive picnic right now and trading stories and just relaxing, but there's an angry red cloud radiating from Bakugo, one that means Kirishima stays a good couple feet behind him.
He stays out an extra couple seconds to bask in — what will probably be — the last touch of sunlight he will feel that day. He really shouldn't have, because just as his eyes flutter closed and tilts his head up he hears a crashing from inside, and the unmistakable yell from Bakugo.
He forgets the peaceful day and rushes in, there's a bowl on the kitchen floor, and a shocked Kaminari standing to the side.
“What the hell are you trying to do in here, idiot!?”
“God..” Kaminari mumbles, but perks up when he sees Kirishima, “Bro— Help me! He just came in and started freaking out!”
The commotion has heads turning. Anyone who was sitting in the common area has craned their body around to view the spectacle. A couple whispers come from the elevators and nervous heads (and pair of gloves) peak around.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon Bakugo.” Even though Bakugo isn't facing him, he still makes a beckoning motion and takes a couple steps back.
“Nah, Shitty Hair, I need to know exactly what this idiot thinks he's doing—”
“I was making popcorn!”
“With your own fucking electricity? You trying to kill everyone here!?—”
“Bakugo.” Kirishima is a little off-put by how direct his own voice comes out, but he means it. He sounds tired and he is tired and he knows Bakugo can hear it in his tone too, so why won't he give this up?
“Nobody ever teach you the first fucking thing about a goddamn microwave? That thing can't handle your stupid fucking voltage, it doesn't make it go any faster, maybe learn some fucking patience!” He's getting in Kaminari’s face now, and Kirishima can see the words ‘Rich coming from you’ forming in Kaminari’s brain, and knows the fallout of him inevitably saying that won't be pretty to clean up, so he steps in now.
“Nope. No, nope, we’re leaving.” He steps over to pull Bakugo back, but ever so stubborn he yanks his arms away, so Kirishima aims for the waist, hoisting him back and over his shoulder. He hears a confused grunt come from Bakugo before he starts kicking, Kirishima gives Kaminari a pointed glare to warn him not to let the laugh that was obviously about to burst out of him spill — it’d just make the situation a lot worse.
He readjusts his grip on Bakugo’s waist as he starts to walk out of the room. Bakugo lets off explosions aimed right at his back. “Can you cool it, man? Not gonna do anything and you know that, I’m trying to help you here.”
He clicks the ‘Up’ button on the elevator and waits. The kicking hasn't stopped but it's slowed. He knows he's not getting out of this hold, but he still fights, because that's better than giving up. He can feel Bakugo look up, Kirishima knows the entire class is certainly staring. Bakugo drops his head, and he whispers, “Do’ya have to do this while everyone’slookin’?”
“I put you down now and you go marching right back to Kaminari..”
There's a pause. Kirishima watches the number tick down on the elevator. Bakugo’s fingertips rest lightly on his back. He has a hand around his waist— He has a hand around his waist! And he's practically weightless, Kirishima can't feel a thing— maybe that's just his brain turning to mush. Maybe his knees are about to give in and he'll collapse right now and—
Kirishima can feel something.
A small sensation on his back. Similar to that feeling you get on your legs or arms that feels like a spider is walking across them even though nothing’s there. It sends a shiver down his spine before he realises what it is. Small, not even explosions, coming from where Bakugo’s hands and his back connect.
Ding.
He enters the elevator and presses their floor number. The doors close and immediately they hear laughter from their classmates — primarily Kaminari. Kirishima trusts Bakugo to not rage inside the elevator so sets him down, but he stumbles against the wall, staring down at his hands, which are still letting off tiny eruptions. They’re going off every couple of seconds, like a heartbeat, but they're far too fast.. even though they perfectly line up with Kirishima’s raised heart rate, there's no reason for Bakugo's heart to be racing as much as his.
“What are thos—”
“Nothing! They're.. whatever.” Bakugo wipes the sweat from his hands away, until they're just puffs of smoke emitting from his hands, “Just something my quirk does.”
The ride goes silent except for the slow whirring of the mechanics. It's times like these he understands why elevator music exists, though he doesn't think it would make this any less awkward.
“You got me out of there.”
Bakugo is still staring at his hands as he speaks. It's an acknowledgment. A ‘thanks’ without saying so. He's intentionally avoiding eye contact.
“Yeah, ‘course, man. I— Uh, I dunno what is up with you today but—”
“’S nothing. I’m fine. I’m just.. gonna go to sleep early.”
“Study session cancelled?”
“For tonight, yeah.”
Another ding, the door opens to their floor. “Don't think that means you can't study on your own! You better have that homework done for tomorrow—”
“What? But it's not due until Friday!”
“So-fucking-what? I’ve already finished it, shit’s easy! You can do it by yourself.”
“Fine, fine. If you say so. Night Bakugo.”
His bedroom door clicks shut.
4.
As expected, when your quirk is literally hardening your entire body, Kirishima's often feels quite stiff, without his quirk activated.
When he was younger and didn't use it much it was basically never a problem. Maybe it would activate in his arms once or twice and they'd feel a little sore after, but now that he was really pushing himself every single day, the pain got bad. — He was thankful for the plush soft mattresses the dorms provided, if he could he would stay there as long as possible.
But right now he's running late for a study session in Bakugo’s room.. and he doesn't think he would take too kindly to Kirishima taking his bed.
There's a pounding on his wall, and Kirishima groans as he tries to sit up. Muffled from the wall, he hears, “Hurry your ass up!” Bakugo really values time management.
Kirishima sucks in a breath as he forces himself to stand up, he grumbles some incomprehensible words and swings his dorm door open, grabbing some scattered books before leaving. He'd definitely overdone his quirk today.
His hand hesitates over Bakugo’s doorhandle. He takes a second to relax his shoulders, easing the pain only slightly. He takes a deep breath, ignoring the stinging in his ribs, nods his head — Ow, ow, fuck, he really shouldn't have done that — smiles — ignoring the wince he just made — and opens the door.
Bakugo is sitting up on his bed, a pillow raised so he can lean on it and one knee up. His phone dangles from one of his hands and as Kirishima finishes observing him, he sees his eyes are focused on him. So he should probably say something.
“I know, I know.. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Only valid excuse is if you were finishing your homework, and I know your ass wasn't doing that, so what the fuck kept you!? It's not like I’m across campus!”
He's learned to tune the chewing out, but that doesn't mean he can't hear it. He’d really not enjoy a headache on top of his other pain already.
He doesn't reply because he knows Bakugo isn't genuinely asking, he settles on his carpet, placing whatever books he had grabbed on his table. Bakugo swings his legs off his bed. He opens his phone again, Kirishima knows he only really uses it to scroll through news articles, he's secretly been keeping up with the LoV since he got back.
“Did you.. do the homework?” He asks, considerably softer than before, eyes trained to whatever article he was currently reading.
“I.. looked at it..” Kirishima replies, sheepishly. Bakugo sighs, and makes a motion to give it over.
“Yeah? You looked at it?” Kirishima flips through one of the books to a specific page and reaches out, “Didn't fucking do it though?” There's no bark to his words, “Just decide to leave it to me to walk you through it, is that—” Ow, ow, fuck. He needed to stretch just a little bit too far and his throat makes a pained noise and Bakugo stops talking the second he hears it. Fuck.
Bakugo snatches the book and pretends to look at the page as Kirishima relaxes his body again. “Fuck’s up with you?” He asks, glancing up from the book with eyebrows raised.
“I’m all good, bro!” Lie. “Just pushed myself a little bit too hard today,” He flashes a smile which Bakugo doesn't seem to believe. He never does.
“Hurt your back?” Bakugo tosses the book back, “You can give those a try.”
Kirishima taps the end of his pencil against the paper as he scans the words, “Yeah, and arms.. and legs.. and neck.. I’m fine, though! Pretty used to it by now..” He lets out an uneasy laugh and starts writing just to end the conversation, even though he hasn't actually read the question. Bakugo nods, but goes back to his phone.
Kirishima tries to focus on the work, he tries. But, being hunched over Bakugo’s little coffee table is not helping. He knows it, and Bakugo knows it by the way he keeps staring.
He keeps straightening his spine but it doesn't help, he keeps trying to stretch his arm but it isn't helping, and the pain is becoming kind of blinding so he rubs his temple with his hand and he should probably just cut this short and leave but he doesn't want to disappoint—
“C’mere.”
Kirishima looks up at Bakugo with uncertainty, partly wondering if he's starting to hallucinate his voice from the aching.
But Bakugo is looking at him. His phone tossed to the side. Kirishima shuffles around the table and holds his book out again, Bakugo pushes his hand away.
“Not that, idiot. Turn around.”
Kirishima blinks. Once, twice. Bakugo raises an eyebrow, so Kirishima listens.
Bakugo shifts from behind him, then pulls Kirishima inbetween his legs. He makes some shocked noise, but Bakugo talks over it, “Shut up, it’ll help.”
“What wi—” Bakugo’s thumbs dig right into a knot in his back and the words die in his throat.
Oh.
That was happening.
This is happening?
Is this.. really happening?
His hands push down. “Relax your fuckin’ shoulders.” Kirishima forces himself to take a breath and realise how good this actually feels. He clears his throat, and attempts to refocus on the work, if he fully acknowledges what's happening his quirk would probably activate again.
“Question nine is wrong, try again.” His hands move down to his shoulder blades, running his palms along them. Everything feels a lot more manageable like this. He erases the answer and looks over it again, the answer clicks in his head and Bakugo lets out a satisfied hum as he rewrites the correct answer.
“This happen often?” His palms push the skin on his back upward, and some part of his back cracks and a relief rushes through his spine.
“Yeah, I— eh, I guess? Not as bad as it was when I first began training but it—”
“Got worse with unbreakable?”
“.. Well.. Yeah..”
Bakugo's voice is quieter now, “Mm, my hands are mostly fine with my quirk now, just sometimes they..” His voice trails off, he takes a hand off Kirishima’s back and flexes it, knuckles cracking make his point for him.
“Yeah?” Kirishima mumbles, because he's not sure what to say. Quiet moments like these are rare, moments where Bakugo opens up? Even rarer. It's calm. Kirishima is about to lean into the touch— Lay back and welcome it when—
“Come on! Question two!? Even Sparky would know that's wrong!” Kirishima jumps to erase the answer. He thinks he should point out that he was basically blindly answering because the pain made him unable to focus, or that he knows for a fact Kaminari wouldn't think that answer is wrong because he just copied the answer he had seen him write down but he doesn't say anything.
He lets the silence stretch, as Bakugo continues to kneed at his back. He should probably repay the favour. Bakugo said something about his hands, right? Though he's not sure Bakugo would let him get away with that.. but he does let him get away with a lot more — letting him come in to his bedroom, for example — so he likely could.
He's not sure how long they stay like that for, but it's after Kirishima has finished all his homework and the sky is dark. Still, neither of them move to turn a light on, or close the blinds. At some point Kirishima feels relaxation taking over him, his head bobs to the side, taking place on Bakugo’s leg. He pauses for a second, a hesitation, but resumes.
He can't fall asleep here, as much as he’d like to. He begins to sit upright, stretching his neck to either side, he rolls his shoulders, and grabs one of Bakugo’s hands with his own, gently taking it off his shoulder.
“I should.. you’re probably tired, it’s like.. shit— it’s ten?”
Bakugo glances towards his clock. As if on cue, he yawns.
Still, neither of them move. Kirishima has taken both of his thumbs and begun mindlessly smoothing them over Bakugo’s palm. His hand is soft, not like something you’d expect from someone who literally explodes them daily, it's nice, though Kirishima would probably think either way is nice.
The silence turns from comfortable to awkward in a second, Bakugo flinches, and a small explosion comes off that hand.
He pulls his hand away, wiping his hand on his sweatpants. “Yeah. ‘S late.” His voice sounds muffled, like he's coughing the words out. “I would tell you to go to sleep but fuck knows you stay up all night.”
“Actually.. I think I’m about ready to pass out right now too..” He breathes out, readjusting his headband.
He shuts Bakugo's door and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. He buries his face in one of his hand, the other gripping onto his books. There's a part of him — a large part of him — that hopes this becomes a routine.
5.
With all the hero-ing Kirishima has been doing recently, and training, and.. homework, and subsequent relaxing his body needs after all of those, he hasn't had time to maintain his image. His roots are showing. He thinks it looks like badass, actually, the black fading into red, but people keep pointing it out and he's tired of it.
He’s standing in the shared dorm bathrooms. He’d just gotten back from the shop and he's debating whether or not he has enough energy to dye it tonight. He’s combing his fingers through it, parting it just to see how visible the roots are. Occasionally he glances at the “Vivid Red” bottle lying beside the sink.
He doesn't notice Bakugo until he's standing beside him talking.
“Do that shit in your own room, don't stain the communal rooms, ya’ idiot.”
“Oh,” He looks at Bakugo, who's pointing at the bottle. “Right— Yeah, I wasn't.. gonna.. I was just looking. Too tired after today's fight, ha, you didn't go easy on me today..”
Bakugo scoffs, “I never go easy on you,” he grabs the box of dye and scans it. “You don't bleach it?” Kirishima shakes his head, “Shit must be vibrant then. Hm.” He hums, then swings the door open and leaves.
Kirishima figures that's the end of the conversation, so goes back to examining his hair. Bakugo looks back at him, “You coming or what?” He shakes the bottle of dye at him.
Kirishima silently follows behind him, all the way up to their dorms. Bakugo stops outside his own and tosses the box at him, telling him to get set up and that he'll be in shortly. So he does. Mindlessly, he squeezes the dye into a bowl and sits and waits for Bakugo.
Eventually he returns, and he brings with him a ragged and stained shirt which he tosses at Kirishima. “Put this on.” He demands, and like before, Kirishima obliges. He watches as he takes his shirt off Bakugo adverts his gaze to the bowl. He stares at it, “You put too much in.”
“Huh?”
“The bowl. Just to redo your roots, this is too much.”
“Oh.. I normally just do all of my hair.”
“No wonder you're too fuckin’ tired to do it then.”
He slips the gloves on and it's only now Kirishima registers what's going on. He was expecting any second that Bakugo was just gonna.. leave. Or keep him company while he dyes his hair himself.
Bakugo pulls out a stool — he didn't even know their bathrooms had stools? — and motions for Kirishima to sit on it. He does. — when did he get so used to following Bakugo's command?
“Why are you doing this?” He quietly asks, as Bakugo dips the brush and begins to paint along his roots. “And, uh, have you done this before?”
“Need you focused. If you're not fighting me at the top of your game how can I know I’m better than you? If you're busy worrying about stupid shit like your dumb hair or homework you're not focused on fighting me.” It's a very Bakugo answer, but it still makes Kirishima smile. Bakugo doesn't lie, but sometimes he avoids the truth, and the truth here? He cares. “And no, but I’ve seen it a ton. My mom used to do Deku’s mom’s hair a lot when we were kids so I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking, you seem to know what you're doing.”
“I always know what I’m doing— Shut up! Keep your head straight.”
“Yes, sir!”
After he’s covered his roots he abandons the brush and slathers the remaining dye on the gloves to massage it into his hair. There isn't actually that much left over in the bowl, not as much as Bakugo was complaining about, but there's still enough for a small coat all over his hair.
“Now we let it sit for forty minutes.” Bakugo leans back, carefully tossing the gloves into the sink and rinsing them. Kirishima just watches him from the stool. He never really has ‘time to kill’ with Bakugo. It's fighting, or homework. He suspects Bakugo is gonna leave now, but instead he takes a seat when the gloves are washed and pulls out his phone.
Kirishima fidgets with his hand. He left his phone on his bed and would need to manoeuvre past Bakugo to get out of the room to grab it, so instead he asks, “You really got nothing better to do, man?”
Bakugo simply shrugs, “’Course I fuckin’ do.”
He tilts his head, “But you're..?”
“Yeah?” He scoffs out. “Wanna be a hero, don't I? Means I gotta learn to help people and shit, so shut up and let me do this.”
Kirishima nods. “I mean I’m not complaining, just sayin’, all this sitting and waiting isn't really your thing..”
“Is it your thing?”
“Well, no— that's why I wasn't gonna do this tonight! I just end up tired and bored but by that point it's too late to back out..” What Kirishima would give to lay in his bed right now..
Bakugo sets his phone down and crosses his arms. “You can't entertain yourself for forty minutes? Bullshit.”
“I guess I can, but when I’m tired nothing works.”
“Is this working?”
“What?”
“Y’know, like, talking?”
“Huh, I guess so.. though you're pretty hard to get into a conversation with so maybe I’m just more intrigued by that..”
“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don't, actually, like, talk that much, dude—like conversation talk. Mostly just insults and boasts, which everyone is basically used to by now, but conversations are rare, so I’m just kinda surprised..”
Silence. Bakugo is staring at the floor when he replies, more-so in a mutter, “I’m doing this ‘cause I’m tired.” Kirishima looks towards him, he hums, and Bakugo continues, “I dunno, earlier today I just got super fuckin’ tired out of nowhere, but I’ve got a strict schedule so I can't fall asleep until eight or it gets all fucked up, doing this keep me up until at least then. Plus, it's repetitive and simple enough to enjoy.”
“You can take a nap now? I’ll wake you up when—”
“Can't. I fall asleep and I’m out until tomorrow. Besides, it's only—” He grabs his phone and clicks the screen on, “—twenty minutes ‘till you gotta rinse it off.” He readjusts, crossing his arms and slouching. “’S fine.”
“If you say so, man..” And they hit another stalemate. What do you actually talk to Bakugo about..?
“I.. uh, got a B on the assignment..”
Bakugo tosses his head to the side as if to say ‘Not bad’ but follows it up with, “Could’ve been an A.”
“Still.. better than the C I got last time..”
Bakugo brings up needing to implore even more study sessions until he's at an A, much to Kirishima’s dismay. As he's stuttering out a resounding “Nah, we don't need to— do that..” Bakugo’s phone starts to buzz. He silences the alarm, motioning to the shower.
“Warm up the water.” He commands, picking the gloves from the sink and shaking off the remaining water droplets from it. Kirishima likes his showers hot, like, almost scaldingly so, he keeps his eyes focused on the water pouring until it steams.
Bakugo rifles through the various hair products sitting on his counters until he finds his shampoo. “Really? This is the shit you use?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Makes my hair really soft. You should try it!” And let me feel.
Kirishima is becoming frighteningly aware of how gay he is.
Bakugo runs a hand under the water and signals for Kirishima to lean over the shower, he complies, as he has done several times already. Bakugo runs a hand through his hair before the water touches it.
“You're surprisingly gentle..” Kirishima mumbles. This feels too.. intimate, for him, too homely, too much like they've been partners for so long that this is just natural for them. And he's tired, he's so tired, he's not thinking straight, and Bakugo’s fingers are combing through his hair and it feels so, so nice.
Immediately, a small burning — not like the water — spreads along his scalp.
“Fuck—” Bakugo's hand moves from his hair. Kirishima tries to glance to the side, but hot red streaks run down his face, so he has to keep his head down. He notices the burning sensation has died down.
“What's— uh— What's the matter?”
“Fuck.” Bakugo repeats. He can hear small puffs beside his ear. “You got spare gloves?” His voice is low, and if Kirishima didn't know any better, he’d say he sounds embarrassed. He hears the elastic of the glove stretch before it’s tossed to the floor. Small smoke marks burn holes through the tips.
Staring at the crisp rips of the gloves he replies, confused, “Yeah.. bottom drawer has some I never ended up using.. It’s just so much easier to use my hands!”
“Yeah, only if you don't mind getting stained red. You do this, what, every month or so?” He snaps another pair of gloves on. These ones are black instead of the usual clear ones, and they look far too good on Bakugo.
“I guess..?”
“We can all fuckin’ tell. You don't wash it all off properly. Your neck is always stained.”
Kirishima frowns, he thought he’d actually gotten quite good at dying it by himself. He supposes he doesn't really mind if this comes with Bakugo doing it for him, or the little piece of knowledge that Bakugo pays attention to when he dyes his hair even though Bakugo picks up on every little detail — technically he's unaware or at least pretending to be unaware of Kirishima’s obvious feelings — he still likes to pretend Bakugo pays extra close attention to him.
Kirishima tries to tilt his head upwards, asking “Hey, are you all good?” as he attempts to point at the gloves, but Bakugo shoves his head back down.
“Fine. Just— Shut up.”
In the split second view that Kirishima gets, he wonders if Bakugo had managed to get some of the red dye on this face, because it was definitely stained red.
+1
Kirishima lives for domestic days. Days where they all can hang out as a bunch of teens who live together and not kids risking their lives everyday and being forced to move to protect their families.
Uno night, dying their hair together, shopping sprees, baking burnt cookies at 2am, staying in the common room until god knows what hour of the night asking what sound like philosophical questions at the time but really sound like drunk rambling.
He’s spending one of these domestic days — surprisingly — in Bakugo’s room. Originally, he'd come over so they could binge a couple episodes of a show they'd started watching. Kirishima wasn't totally into it, but one of the characters was a total super manly badass, so he kept watching it for them, but Bakugo seemed to really enjoy it, though, never watched it without Kirishima.
He’d get really animated when anything happened, like someone he didn't like losing a fight was treated as reality, and he needed to express how much he knew they were bound to lose, directed at the character.
They'd only managed to get a couple episodes in before the heat in Bakugo’s room exhausted them, so now a news channel stayed on, volume low, as they sit on the floor, knees pressed together, huddled by the fan.
Heat exhaustion and lazy day are bad combos for Kirishima, and he finds his mouth speaking before his brain can even register words. “I’ve been meanin’ to ask.. what's with those little explosions your quirk does sometimes? Also, man, you gotta beg Aizawa to get you some air conditioning because this is hell!”
Bakugo completely disregards the second half of his words to roughly grumble, “Thought I told you? Just something my quirk does.”
He nods slowly, “Just a random thing, huh? Nothing triggers it?”
Bakugo stares at Kirishima like it's the dumbest question he's ever asked, but Kirishima knows it isn't by a long mile. He tilts his head to the side, questioningly, and Bakugo snaps his head back to the fan.
As if on cue, small ruptures scatter down Bakugo’s palm. Kirishima can't help but stare at them for the few seconds he can before Bakugo crosses his arms, hunching over further into the fan. “Maybe.” He stretches his neck a little, and out of the corner of his eye Kirishima sees a small smirk form on his face, “Why would I tell you?”
Kirishima, again, does not think before answering, “Uh, we're best buds and we love each other?” He's beaming, like, widest grin ever beaming, the idiot.
The small explosions amplify to a larger one, and Bakugo untucks his hands to try and wipe away the sweat so the explosions will die down — it doesn't work. “Don't say— stupid.. shit.” He grumbles. “Fuckin’.. Shitty-hair.”
“Hey!— You just did my hair..”
Bakugo continues to stare at his hands, clearly not listening. He clenches his fists, and slowly, his quirk stops. “Whatever..”
The silence stretches, with the dull buzz of the fan and the reporters talking being the only sounds. Kirishima speaks up again, “So, are you gonna tell me or nah?”
“It's— fuckin’ your fault.”
“Me?”
“Who else, idiot?”
“Wh—? How is it my fault!?”
Bakugo doesn't respond. He crosses his arms again, and shuffles until he presses against the side of his bed, Kirishima follows, dragging the fan back with him, the cord starts to stretch so it sits by their knees.
Bakugo glances towards his balcony. The sky is a bright orange, and the hue bursts through the thin fabric of his closed black curtains. “Fuck this,” he mumbles, turning off his fan, immediately the humid air hits both of them, but Bakugo opens the sliding door and steps out, Kirishima follows.
It's not much cooler outside, but the breeze is very welcomed after sitting in the stuffy dorm rooms. Bakugo sits down on the balcony floor, back pressed against one end, Kirishima matches, back pressed up again the other end of the balcony. They aren't very spacious, hence sitting on the floor, as there wouldn't be enough room for a chair and table, but if they both stretched out their legs they could probably touch the other side of the balcony.
Bakugo looks down at his hands. “You—” He starts, but cuts himself off. “This is fucking stupid..”
Kirishima patiently waits, looking up at the sky — though most of his vision is clouded by the dorm building.
“Fuck, you gotta.. ask.. again.”
“What?” Kirishima glances down, Bakugo is looking everywhere but at him.
“Your— question. Ask it again.”
“Hey, you don't have to tell me if you don't—”
“Yeah, I know that, idiot. Stop bein’ so fuckin’ nice. Ask again.”
“Why?”
“I can't— Like— say it.”
Curiously, Kirishima eyes him. “’Kay..? What's up with the little explosions?”
Bakugo flexes his hands, “It’s something that— fuck— when I’m— fuck. Why are you so stupid?” Kirishima is taken back, obviously, what is he not getting about this? Why is this so difficult for the Bakugo Katsuki to answer?
“Man—”
“Kirishima force this answer out of me right fucking now, I swear to god I can't do this any longer.”
“F— Force? Wha..ahat? Man, you're, uh, scaring me..”
“Ask again.”
Kirishima points to his own palm, “What are they?”
“They're, basically, when I’m like, embarrassed, or some shit. Like, like caught off guard and whatever.” His answer doesn't seem too direct, but he still lets out a sigh of relief after.
“And I fit into this.. how?”
“Fuckin’— Think. About it. For more than two seconds.”
“I.. make you feel embarrassed?”
Bakugo stays silent, but raises his knees to his chest. Kirishima takes it as a yes and continues, “Okay..” His brain tries to scan every moment that he can remember his quirk going off, and they mostly seem to line up with being embarrassed. “I mean, I guess that makes sense.. is that it?”
Bakugo, shocked, turns to face him, finally. “What the fuck are you— What—” He rubs his face with his hands, then drops his head behind his knees. “Do I seriously have to spell this shit out to you? I thought you'd be a bit more aware, jeez, I feel like I’m confessing to that fuckin’ dunce.”
“Confessing?”
Like, about his quirk, right? Not.. Not anything Kirishima would hope for like romantic feelings.. right?
“Yeah. Y’know, like, feelings and shit. Don't make me fuckin’ say it.”
Kirishima doesn't need him to say it because he's finally on the same wavelength, at least he hopes, but he’d really like to hear him say it.. though his brain might end up fried like Kaminari’s so maybe Bakugo is right to not.
“Wait— You like me?”
Silence.
“That's what this has been about?”
Silence.
“Well— how long?”
“Wh— That's what you're asking?”
“Gotta tell which one of us fell first.”
“What?”
Oh. Bakugo is right, saying it out loud is hard. His throat feels dry and he knows he can't blame the heat, even though there's no real reason for him to panic because technically Bakugo also just confessed his feelings.
“I— Uh. C’mon.. you heard me.”
Bakugo smirks — He fucking smirks!
“No, I don't think I did. Y’know my quirk, makes it hard to hear and shit. Think you need to repeat that a little louder for me.”
Oh this asshole definitely heard him. And he's also shifting closer, oh fuck, why is he coming closer?
“That's— Answer the question.”
Bakugo freezes. He chews the inside of his lip. “Don't remember.”
“Surely you rememb—”
“It just— fuckin’— happened one day, I dunno! Probably longer than you.”
Kirishima finds his own body shifting forward and there's an obvious flirtatious tone is his voice as he asks, “Are you making this a competition?”
“If it was I’d win.”
“Uh-huh, ‘cause you're always the best.”
“Damn right I am.” They're so close that they've started whispering and every word is clear. At some point — Kirishima doesn't know when — Bakugo grabbed the collar of his shirt and now it feels completely inevitable that they're going to kiss, and Kirishima isn't sure his brain can handle what's happening and he must be dreaming or something.
“.. Have you, uh, done this befo—”
Bakugo pulls him in, not even letting him finish his sentence. It's nice, knowing that Bakugo couldn't wait any longer to kiss him, or maybe he was cutting him off on purpose to be an asshole, Kirishima doesn't care. Their noses collide painfully and there's a couple desperate seconds where they try to salvage it, but Bakugo pulls back, scoffing out a laugh — a noise Kirishima thinks might be the last thing he hears as he's pretty sure his heart is no longer beating simultaneously as it's pounding in his ears — “No.”
They take a second to readjust, and a lot more calmer, they move in again. Kirishima’s arms wrap around Bakugo's neck and he’s trying very hard to bite back his idiotic smile but he can feel Bakugo's equally idiotic smile and he just can't help it. When they pull away for air — they can't tell who pulls away first, but Kirishima knows it's safer to say he did, because Bakugo likes to win everything. — both of them are out of breath but can't stop laughing.
“Shit—” Bakugo pulls his hands back right as his quirk activates.
“Ohhh? What set it off this time?”
“Shut up. Your.. fuckin’ face.”
“Oh.” Hah, the sun is setting but Kirishima is actually pretty sure it's getting hotter outside, a heat that's festering in his stomach and making his head feel hollow and a heat he wants to feel every single day. He hopes Bakugo feels it too. “God, now I can finally say that shit’s adorable, man.” He points to Bakugo’s hands. Does Bakugo have another quirk that he breathes laughing gas because Kirishima can't stop giggling.
“What— I— SHUT UP!”
“Make me, Katsuki.”
“Fuckin’—" He pauses, his eyes widen. "Say.." He takes a shaky breath, "Say that again."
"Hm? What? Katsuki?" The lip quiver he gets in response tells him, yes, that's what's doing it. "Ahh, I see. Well, are you going to make me, Katsuki?
"Happily, idiot— Eijirou."
“Aw, ‘happily’, really? You are fuckin’ adorable, ma— Oh shit. Wait. Say that again."
"What?" He adds mockingly, "Eijirou? Is that it? Yeah, doesn't feel too fuckin' nice when it's your na—"
Kirishima doesn't let him finish that sentence.