Chapter Text
It's Kaminari that first makes him start to think about it. They'd been walking back to the classroom after lunch when the first years had approached them— or, rather, had approached Kirishima. Mina and Jirou had left lunch early, citing an errand to the Support Department, leaving the four of them here now. Katsuki had been annoyed, first, at their approach, and then relieved, when they'd barely spared him more than a wide-eyed, apprehensive glance.
Being mobbed by stuttering extras in brand-new UA uniforms in the school hallways had gotten old, fast. It had gotten old the first fucking time it'd happened, in Katsuki's opinion, though expressing that aloud had yet to successfully put an end to the idiots' ribbing that he secretly enjoyed it.
He is enjoying it, now, standing several steps back with Kaminari and Sero, watching the back of Kirishima's neck turn red as he rubs a hand over it, sheepish under the attention of three gangly first years with damn near hearts in their eyes.
It was about time these freaks stopped obsessing over him, or worse, Half-and-half, and turned their sights on someone more receptive to their adoration. And it was almost worth the interruption to the few remaining minutes of their precious lunch time, watching Kirishima fumble through the interaction, half-blushing under the praise and half-concerned, trying to calm the underclassmen down lest they actually piss their damn pants in excitement.
Of course, then, Dunce Face has to go and ruin it.
"Feeling jealous, huh, Kacchan?" He leers, "You're gonna lose your top spot if you're not careful!"
"Hah?!" Katsuki snaps, "The fuck would i be jealous of, dumbass?"
Sero grins down at him with that irritating horse-toothed smile. "You can stop pretending, Blasty, we all know you secretly revel in their hero worship!"
This shit again. "How many fucking times—?! Oi, Tape Face, they can worship me all they want, as they fuckin' should, from a distance. I sure as fuck don't wanna deal with their ass-kissing, I'll gladly let that be Ei's problem."
His heart squeezes in his chest, skipping a beat as the nickname leaves his mouth. It's an asinine, totally involuntary reaction, but every time he says it, he can't help but feel a bit giddy. Proud, to have earned the privilege of Kirishima's first name. A part of him wants to show off, rub his superior closeness to the redhead in everyone's faces. Another part of him wants to explodo-kill his own face for that utterly mortifying line of thought.
Sero snorts, disbelieving, and opens his mouth to no doubt spout some equally-as-infuriating bullshit, but Kaminari beats him to it. Resting an elbow on Katsuki's shoulder — a habit the smug fuck has picked up since his recent growth spurt — he wiggles his eyebrows, pointing in Kirishima's direction.
"Nah, man, that's not what I'm saying." He adopts the tone of someone commentating on a nature documentary. "We're not looking at a regular old rabble of Red Riot fans here, boys. We're looking at a genuine, in-the-flesh, bonafide confession!"
And sure enough, as he speaks, two of the first years take a seemingly rehearsed, synchronised step back. Katsuki watches the vertically challenged girl at the front of their small pack take a deep breath, before reaching forward to clasp Kirishima's hand.
She bows at the waist, blue skin blushing a deep purple, and says something that makes Kirishima's entire body tense. From this angle, Katsuki can only see his side-profile as his eyes widen in surprise.
Kaminari, whom Katsuki is still allowing to lean on him for some unknown reason, shakes him with a hand on his shoulder.
"What about it, Kacchan? Worried our dear Eijirou-kun might be snatched up by some new beau? Start splitting his time between you and his gaggle of romantic admirers?"
Katsuki scoffs. As if.
"He has been more popular, recently, since that attempted bank robbery was all over the news," Sero muses.
Katsuki remembers that incident, just after they'd come back from winter break. He and kirishima had met up for a hike on Christmas eve, but otherwise the other hero had been running himself ragged all break on his internship with Fat Gum. Kirishima had stumbled across the bank robbery at the end of his patrol, a hostage situation instigated by a villain with a glass manipulation Quirk that had barely gotten off the ground before Red Riot intervened. Katsuki had been at the dorms, watching the media coverage of the incident on TV. Watching Kirishima dive in front of a hostage, projectile glass shards ricocheting off of, and shattering on, his unbreakable skin. Watching him subdue the villain, flashing a dangerous, razor-sharp and yet still reassuring grin to the surrounding civilians. Watching him smash his hardened fists together in front of his chest while giving a live interview to the on-site reporters. Katsuki remembers the gleam of pride in the redhead's eyes, remembers feeling that same pride burning in his chest as he stood in front of the TV. Remembers the victory, feeling it like it was his own.
Red Riot had surged in popularity, clips of the fight all over social media, hero sites predicting that with his current trajectory, he'd hit the top 20 as soon as he became a fully-fledged pro. Kirishima had sported an embarrassed, happy blush on his cheeks for what felt like weeks, and Katsuki had walked around, preening beside him, for just as long. He'd been supremely chuffed, as keenly as though the hype had been for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight rather than a hero who was, ostensibly, part of the competition.
But more than that, it had felt like winning. The world was finally waking up to what he'd already known to be true, and they were all clamouring to get closer to the beacon of Manliness that was Red Riot, but they were too goddamn late. Katsuki had gotten there first, and he was winning the shit out of being Kirishima Eijirou's Best Friend.
So, contrary to Kaminari's beliefs, he's pleased as fucking punch that Kirishima is getting approached in public like this. And there's really no question of whether Kirishima will reject this confession, or any others that might come his way; the dense fucker's head is too full of muscle and protein powder to spare precious brainpower on frivolous things like dating.
Beside him, oblivious to Katsuki's internal monologue, Kaminari nods rapidly. The movement is reminiscent of a bobble-head figure.
"Right!" He says, shooting a finger gun at Sero. "Ever since that, Kiri's started getting all the ladies, and he's not even into ladies…"
He turns back to Katsuki, grinning mischeviously. Katsuki just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"You better hope the next confession isn't from a guy, Kacchan, or your super sacred best friend manly bro time gym sessions might be at risk!" He laments, pounding a fist on Katsuki's chest with comically wide eyes. Then he pauses, looking down and patting the generous swell of Katsuki's pecs appreciatively. God, the horny loser truly can't help himself.
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki tunes them out, focusing instead on the movement of Kirishima's cheek as he answers the girl, smiling wide. His shoulders are still tense as he gently eases his hand from the first year's grip. Yeah, Katsuki had already known that Kirishima would reject her, but the action still settles him, satiates some base, animal instinct in him that he can't explain. Stepping back from him, the girl's eyes fill with tears.
Ever the hero, Kirishima jumps into action, holding his hands out placatingly as he speaks to her in a low tone. Whatever he says does the trick, and the first year sniffles but managers to blink back her tears. Staring up at him with teary but determined eyes, she nods once, firm, and bows again at the waist.
"THANK YOU," She shouts, making both Kirishima and her two friends flinch in surprise. "I'LL ALWAYS BE YOUR FAN, RED RIOT!"
With that melodramatic declaration, she turns and walks away, in long strides that force her classmates to scramble to catch up with her. Katsuki's eyes drift back to the redhead.
Turning around, Kirishima looks a bit dazed, clearly still processing the entire interaction. Meeting Katsuki's gaze, his eyes clear, tension leaking out of his broad frame. He smiles, dopily. Something curls in Katsuki's chest, greedy and viciously satisfied, at the sight.
Maybe Kirishima would never accept a confession, if only because he cares too much about his gains to trade Katsuki for a lesser gym partner, but that's not all there is to it. Who else could inspire such a reaction from Kirishima, just from making eye contact? No one else but Katsuki, surely.
"I'm not worried," he says, unwittingly cutting Kaminari off mid-sentence.
"Huh?" The idiot blinks at him. Probably confused at him responding to a comment from several turns earlier in the conversation, but Kaminari's lack of attention span isn't Katsuki's fucking problem.
"There's nothing to be jealous of," he explains, shoving Kaminari off of him. He yelps, tripping and stumbling straight into Sero's side. "The fuck would I be worried for?"
A moment later, Kirishima reaches them, taking his recently vacated spot at Katsuki's side.
"What are you worrying about?" He asks, head tilting in Katsuki's direction, big eyes filled with concern. His hand lands on Katsuki's shoulder, thumb immediately beginning to rub back-and-forth, trying to sooth a non-existent stress. Katsuki leans into him all the same.
"Nothing, Shitty Hair," He snorts, kicking him in the back of the shin to get him walking. "The fuck was that all about, hah?"
The blush blooming on tanned cheeks is instantaneous, and Kaminari and Sero dive like birds of prey onto the easy target he presents. They keep ribbing Kirishima the entire walk to the classroom, and effortlessly bring Mina and Jirou into the loop when they run into them on the way.
Katsuki stays silent, watching Kirishima out of the corner of his eye as he laughs along with their friends. Occasionally, Kirishima will look over and meet his eyes, seeking out a reprieve from their friend's teasing, and smile at him, almost shy. Probably wondering why Katsuki himself hasn't joined in on the fun, hasn't asked a single question about the confession.
With Kirishima's gaze darting back to him every few minutes, and smiling each time, automatically, like he can't help it, Katsuki doesn't think he needs to ask anything. Those looks tell him everything he needs to know.
When they reach 2-A's classroom, the three stooges fight and clamour to get through the doorway first, no doubt drawing the attention of every classmate already inside. Jirou follows behind them, mocking their childish antics, but Kirishima pulls Katsuki back into the hallway with a hand on his shoulder.
Katsuki turns to face him, and finds those puppy-dog eyes have returned full force.
"Was it really nothing, earlier? You were really quiet just now, Katsuki."
The corner of Katsuki's mouth ticks up, against his will. Using each other's first names isn't an especially recent development, having been something they fell into naturally back in Autumn, but the novelty of it has yet to wear off. The syllables of his first name roll off Kirishima's tongue so smoothly, and so often, seeming to punctuate every sentence he says to him and giving him this strange feeling in his gut, like a smaller version of his Explosions, popping and crackling in his stomach.
It makes Katsuki irrationally mad at his younger self for not insisting Kirishima called him by his first name from the very day they met. So much wasted time.
Kirishima's still blinking at him, waiting patiently for him to answer.
"Don't get your jockstrap in a twist, Red," he smirks, slugging the other boy in the shoulder.
The redhead grins, punching him back and leaning into his space, but clearly not letting it go at just that.
"…They were making fun a' me for being 'jealous'," he scoffs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Dumbasses don't know anything."
Kirishima's smile turns wobbly for a second, a bit uncertain, before splitting into a blinding grin.
"Of course not, Blasty!" He says, throwing an arm around Katsuki's shoulder and steering him to the open classroom door once more. "What would the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight have to be jealous about?"
Of course, Katsuki repeats in his head, letting his best friend usher him into the classroom just as the bell rings. Don't those shitheads he begrudgingly calls friends know, by now?
He and Kirishima are a package deal.