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Hit Me

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"I expect you'll all make use of our new gym facilities over the next few weeks to spar," Mr. Aizawa droned. "Just keep in mind the hours we've set for you so that one of your teachers is present to make sure things don't get out of hand. Class is dismissed for the weekend. Bye." The ever-tired teacher slumped out of the classroom.

A murmur of excitement exploded around the students of Class 1-A. The teachers at UA had been working together to find ways the students, who recently found themselves stuck on campus, could entertain themselves. Obviously not being able to allow them access to the terrain changing training facilities, they had some smaller gyms built, filled with only mats, weights, and other normal equipment like pull-up bars. They staffed the gyms with at least one teacher at all times, because here, sparring between the teens was allowed, but no one wanted the kids to hurt each other. It was rumored that Bakugou and Midoria's impromptu fight 6-months back had inspired the build, but none of the UA teachers would confirm or deny that rumor.

Katsuki lazily pulled himself from his desk and walked towards the classroom door. Footsteps approached behind him, and he let out an audible groan. He knew what was coming. "Go away, you red-haired-freak. I said no," he growled in a low voice as Kirishima came into view. The red-head's spikey teeth drifted from view as his excited smile turned to a disappointed frown.

"But Bakubro, we can finally settle some friendly competition with each other," he paused to change his stance to be like a boxer, bouncing up and down, fists protruding back and forth in the hardened state of his quirk, "and prove that I can kick your ass."

The blonde pushed passed him. "I don't need to fight you to know that I'm better than you, dumb-hair, and if you keep calling me that," his voice raised, "I'll show you exactly how much better I am than you by stomping you into the ground!"

Kirishima was unphased. He was used to Bakugou's temper and was the only one who took everything he dished out. He just shrugged. "I'll be there tomorrow if you change your mind." Just like that, the red-head vanished, but Katsuki could tell that he wasn’t done irritating him. He’d ask a thousand more times before the day was over, and would eventually be the victim of a slap to the head.

Bakugou slinked through the hallway, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his school uniform. He didn't need to spar with anyone but villains, he thought. They were the ones he needed to be worried about anyway. As a pro-hero, that would be his job. It wasn’t like there was any lack of available sparring partners of that category. Besides, how could any of the stupid extras at this school give him any sort of challenge?

He passed by Midoriya and Uraraka in the hallway, Midoriya eagerly chatting to the girl about his plans in the gyms. "I can practice my new style of fighting, oh, and maybe Iida can spar with me to test out my speed, and I wonder when All Might will be set to supervise. I'd love to have him there to get insight from him as well." Of course the idiot was excited. Uraraka nodded in tune with his dumb ramblings as if anyone could keep up with his bullshit. She sported a determined look on her face, eyebrows furrowed. Bakugou audibly groaned as he passed them. "Nerds," he muttered. They, too, were unphased, in fact, he might have heard them giggle as he quickly created more distance between them.

He really didn't see the point. The whole idea was just dumb to him. Who would want to fight their classmates? More specifically, who would want to spar with him? He figured that most of his classmates would be worried that he’d murder them in the process. He grinned to himself. He was pretty terrifying when he fought. Or just in general.

Besides contempt for any challengers, he didn’t know if he’d be up to sparring or seeing fear in their eyes at this very moment. If Bakugou was honest with himself, and he rarely was, so buckle the fuck up, he hadn't really been feeling the best since his kidnapping earlier in the year. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had been scared of his own shadow sometimes and now had to sleep with his side lamp on at night. That is, if he managed to get any sleep at all. The palms of his hands tingled with a need to murder, or at least properly maime something, at even the thought of that day. Of course Kirishima had been more clingy since then, always fawning over him and worrying about his well-being. It was fucking sickly watching him look Katsuki up and down every now and then, gauging how much he was eating or sleeping. Being rescued by his classmates was embarrassing to his pride in the very least, but to feel bothered by the occurrence this long after it happened?... It wasn't just that he had been kidnapped either, but that they chose him because he was most likely, in their eyes, the weakest link; the one they could most easily lure into villainy.

He supposed it could be his natural inclination to be an asshole, but honestly he was always just annoyed at the people around him for being in his way. He had shit to do, villians to kill, bad guys to apprehend. He couldn’t do that until he graduated this stupid school and got his stupid hero’s license. The villains must just see his explosive attitude and think he liked to blow things up. They wouldn’t be far from the truth, but they were missing the very important point of who he wanted to burn to a crisp. He was the last person they needed to try and lure into the League of Villains. He hated them for that assumption, and he hated that most of the people he was forced to be surrounded with on a daily basis felt nearly the same way. He could tell by the fear in their eyes.

He pushed the thought from his head while he unlocked his dorm room. At least it was the weekend. At least some of the idiots in his class were going home or had plans that wouldn't include being right under his nose. Except for Kirishima, he thought. Kirishima would definitely be around bugging him about that stupid gym. He threw down his backpack, shed his school uniform, and carefully hung it in the closet. His room, usually immaculate, had taken a beaten in the past couple of weeks. He scoffed and kicked some clothes under his bed along with a few, stray empty water bottles. He’d clean later, but now he needed to distract himself with some mindless bullshit so he could stop thinking about other bullshit from his recent past.

Bakugou had changed into more comfortable clothes (ball shorts and a t-shirt), pulled some flaming hot cheetos from his snack drawer, and was sitting content on his bed with "fail" videos playing when someone knocked on his door. "Go away!" he growled.

His door cracked open and Katsuki felt the rage that instantly consumed him die down when red locks of hair and red eyes peered around the edge. "Yo, it’s just me," Kirishima said tentatively. "Can I come in?"

"You're already in the damn door, so you might as well," the blonde grumbled.

"Great! I just wanted to see what you were doing because most everyone is out and I'm bored." As always, he was obviously not phased by Katsuki's general disinterest in his presence. If he was being honest with himself, note the aforementioned fact that he never was, having Kirishima around was comfortable, even when he could barely stand that toothy grin on his stupid face. He just prayed that he dropped the whole gym thing so that Bakugou could relax for the evening. He didn’t feel like knocking pointy teeth out of Kirishima’s face at this very moment.

"I'm watching people be terrible at life on the internet, you could join if you wanted," he said dryly. This was the utmost compliment to the fuzzy headed freak, and he wasted no time helping himself to some spicy snack from his stash and flopping onto Bakugou's bed. After a few hours of comfortable silence that drifted further into the night than he had intended, just laughing at idiocy on Bakugou's phone screen side by side, Kirishima opened his mouth to say something very stupid.

"You know, if you're struggling with anything, I am your friend, and I would listen if you wanted to talk." He didn't look away from the screen to make eye contact with him at all, in fact, Bakugou wasn't completely sure he was talking to him at first.

"What?" His one word answer was harsh and biting.

Red eyes met his own, obviously hiding a tiny bit of concern, "I mean, bro, we've all been through a lot of shit since we started school here, but I think you've gotten the brunt force of a lot of it. You are a human being, and… I don’t think it’d hurt to just talk about it with someone sometime.”

Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, snacks forgotten and spilling all over the floor. "What, you don't think I can handle myself? That I'm weak ?" Bakugou could feel his heart racing fast in his chest. He didn't like being confronted with emotional problems, hell, he didn’t even like feeling. That, coupled with the fact that he’d already made himself forget the bullshit for the day, boiled his blood in his veins.

"You just, okay? Angrier than usual?" Kirishima had his hands up in the air in a defensive position, and he was sitting straight up on the bed. His voice had noticeably risen an octave.

"Get out." Bakugou's voice was low and cold. Not his normal screaming tone he used when upset. "Get the hell out of my room."

Kirishima rolled his eyes as he stood and walked towards the door. The usual bounce in his step was gone. "Man, get some damn counseling and deal with your bullshit because I am tired of trying so hard to be your friend." Kirishima's usual light-hearted demeanor was also gone. He was stern and hurt when he closed the door behind him..

Bakugou's screaming voice was back and he was flailing his arms at the closed door, "No one asked you to try so damn hard, asshole!"

Bakugou threw anything he could get his hands on at his wall: left over cheetos, his phone, pillows, blankets. If he were thinking just a little bit less illogically, he would have been setting things on fire, but he knew that was a bad idea. That didn’t stop small popping noises from erupting from his fingertips periodically as he threw his tantrum. Kirishima was his next door neighbor, so anything with substance smacking the wall would let him know just how much he had upset him. Maybe he’d even think Bakugou was actually setting things on fire.

Bakugou was not weak. He did not like feeling like he was. The fact that Kirishima could even tell that something was wrong was a failure to him. His mother's voice from his childhood played over in his head. If he weren't so stupid, pathetic... he wouldn't feel this way. If he would have been smarter and avoided being kidnapped in the first place... He sat down hard on his bed and put his head in his hands, pounding at his forehead with sizzling hands. He knew that Kirishima wasn't trying to call him weak, but he knew that everyone felt sorry for him after falling victim to the villains. No one had looked at him the same since. There was always some doubt, fear, or pity in their eyes, and he couldn't stand people looking at him that way. He knew that heroes shouldn’t show that they were scared or hurt or weak, and obviously, he had failed in letting Kirishima see that something was wrong. For the first time in a very long time, tears stung at his eyes. "Fuck!" He all but growled the word out of clenched teeth. He needed help.



After a sleepless night and tons of angry, internal dialog, Katsuki was up and dressed as inconspicuous as he could be by 7am. He put his hood on to cover his golden locks, more so worried about people seeing him than his hair being flattened, and trucked to the main school building. He knew that most staff were gone during the weekend, but both Recovery Girl and the school counselor had to be present due to the newly acquired dorm system. He didn't like the idea of talking to a complete stranger about his problems, but he despised the idea of talking to someone he knew about his issues even more. In his head, he was hearing a replay of Kirishima's voice from the night before. “Get some damn counseling and deal with your bullshit!” Bakugou didn't think he'd ever heard Kirishima sound actually angry or even nearly upset. He was a ray of fucking sunshine most of the time, and even if Bakugou hated the sun, he at least could appreciate the fact that the shitty-haired guy could take his bullshit without batting an eyelash. Besides, he had to get his shit together so that he could hero-train, and if admitting he needed to put some of his shit on someone else’s shoulders was the way to do that, then so be it.

His heart was hammering in his chest as he opened the doors to the infirmary. He knew he had to do this, but that didn’t stop the nerves from tearing a hole in his stomach lining. The pit in his stomach just pissed him off even more. Recovery Girl stared at him for a minute, and there was an awkward silence before he took his hood off. Relief coupled with confusion spread over her face. "Oh, Katsuki, I thought you were a villain come to end my days," she chuckled. "How can I help you?" Her statement sent a twinge in his chest, which caused even more anger to boil under his skin. Why did everyone think he looked like a villain?

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, "Isn't there some person here who I could... uh... speak to...about uh..." His voice was gruff and almost sounded like a growl, but he pleaded with his whole face for her not to make him say it.

"Oh! Yes, dear, he's through that door over there." She pointed to an area that he had previously thought was just a white wall. The door was practically hidden by hanging sheets separating cubicle type areas in the infirmary. It was big and made of oak with a window that blurred the inside of the office from prying eyes. Very generic, and very plain looking. It didn't look like it belonged there, and it definitely didn't bring Bakugou a sense of calm. The door read, "Hattori Haninozuka, Ph. D, Psychologist." He rapped on it twice before a high pitched voice chided him to come in. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Hopefully this guy wasn’t an idiot.

The man behind the big oak desk was greasy, stout, and quite resembled a mouse. What a big fucking disappointment. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this fucker. Bakugou did all he could to keep himself from snorting in laughter as the man stared up at him with curiosity spread across his face. "Hi. What's your name?" He squeaked. He sounded like Mickey Mouse. His hair was as scraggly as Aiwaza's.

Bakugou was suddenly frozen in place, a smirk on his face. All of the defense mechanisms that he had buried deep down and prevented from surfacing the past few weeks were surfacing. Like a confetti cannon was hidden in his throat, he felt all of it come up almost like vomit, but instead, he burst out laughing. A full belly laugh right there in front of the shrink. The ridiculousness of it all, the fact that he was even there, in a shrink's office... asking for help . It was all so hilarious to him all of the sudden.

"Uhm," the psychologist cleared his throat and spoke with a little more authority, "My name is Dr. Haninozuka, but most people just call me Dr. Honey. Can I help you?"

Bakugou was just losing it now. "Oh," he sucked in a breath, "Oh, God, I could never take you seriously. This was a mistake. I don't need a shrink." He wiped tears from his eyes as he caught his breath. He turned and was headed back out the door when he heard, "I know that you're sad, maybe even a little bit scared. I know what you're feeling, Katsuki." His voice was very stern and matter-of-fact, as threatening as a man with a Mickey Mouse voice could sound.

Katsuki froze and turned around, shear panic suddenly coursing through his veins. It was sobering to hear someone besides Kirishima call him out, but this guy was the first person to ever mention the words scared or sad when referring to him. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and somehow managed to form an angry scowl on his face when he turned around. "How in the hell do you know anything about me, you damn shrink?" His words came out of him in a biting tone, soft and grumbly, his voice thick with emotion.

"How about you sit down, kid?"

Katsuki shrugged, continued to actively avoid letting his emotions play on his face, and strode over to slouch down onto a wrinkled leather couch against the wall. He crossed his arms and avoided eye contact. His heart pounded in his chest erratically.

"I didn't mean to scare you. Of course I know who you are; Class 1-A has been causing quite a fuss this year. And I know what you're feeling because my quirk allows me to. Now, can we start again? My name is Dr. Honey, it’s very nice to finally meet you, Katsuki Bakugou. What brings you to my office?"

Bakugou glared up at the mousey man with his mousey face and beady eyes. "Why don't you tell me, since you already know so much about me, Mr. Shrink?" He sort of hated the way that his voice was coming out sounding like a spoiled brat, but it was that or it’d come out cracked and emotional. His hammering heart and turning stomach were not cooperating with the fact that he needed to present himself as a badass right now. His guard was failing miserably, and he was well aware that this stupid psychologist guy knew everything he was feeling.

"Katsuki, that's not how this works. Just because I can feel what you're feeling, doesn't mean I know how to help you. How about we start with some basic questions?" He reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Sure," he grumbled into his sweater, trying to calm down. He'd already come as far as the damn office, and he couldn't keep alerting people to his weakness if he wanted to be a hero someday, so he needed to somehow stop feeling scared at every dark shadow and stop yelling (abnormally) at everyone.

"Are your grades okay?"

Bakugou snorted. "Of course they are."

"Okay," he lazily wrote down some stuff on a notepad. "How about friends?"

Guilt twinged in his chest as he thought about Kirishima the previous night. "What about them?"

"Well. You could start by telling me why you feel guilty all of the sudden."

Bakugou rolled his eyes and scoffed in frustration. He hated that the guy could tell him what he was feeling. Deep down he knew that he really wouldn’t be able to hide how he was feeling with angry outbursts. Still, he couldn’t help himself. "Come on, man, this is bullshit."

"The only bullshit I can see here, Mr. Bakugou, is that you came to my office and are calling my methods bullshit," he smiled smugly at this statement and folded his hands on his lap.

Katsuki bit at his bottom lip and readjusted himself into a cross-legged sitting position on the couch. The fucker had a point. "Okay so..." he paused, heart pounding in his chest. "I've been... not me since... the uh... well since you're following class 1-A so closely, you know what fucking happened." There was an unnecessary bite to his voice.

The mouse-man nodded and scribbled on his notepad. Bakugou shifted uncomfortably. "Last night I...I was very irrationally mean, I mean, more mean than normal to... like the one person who I think is a friend?” He stopped and stared at his fingers, waiting for the shrink to say something. After a few seconds passed, he looked up and their eyes met. Katsuki licked his lips and huffed air out of his lungs in frustration. “I... don't want to be like this anymore?" His statements were coming out with the inflection of questions. He didn’t talk about his feelings. Hell, he didn’t even feel his feelings half the time.

"So," the shrink started, without looking up from his pad, "it sounds like the kidnapping may have had some impact on you."

    Bakugou fought against the anger in his chest. He was getting pissed, but he tried with everything in him to push it deep down so he could at least get something for the trouble of being here, put on the spot like this. "Yeah, uh, I mean, I feel scared a lot... like it could happen again at any moment. And I feel like people are looking at me with pity. I hate pity.” And the fear, don’t forget the fear in their eyes , he finished silently in his head. For some reason, that one was harder to admit out loud.

The shrink looked up at him and lowered his glasses the tip of his nose. "First of all, I think the last thing anyone would look at you with is pity. If they are, you could think of it as a way for them to be showing empathy to your situation. It would scare any normal person to be captured by the League of Villians, but you’re just a kid, Katsuki. I think we need to work on making you see yourself as just a kid.” The shrink’s voice was sad and almost desperate. Bakugou ignored the implications of that real fucking fast.

“Second, and I know this isn't an easy task for someone as serious about hero training as you are, kid, it sort of seems like you need to let off some steam and work through this stuff you went through. Develop a coping mechanism that isn’t anger..That guilt and fear you're carrying around is probably what's making you irritable."

Bakugou snorted. "I'm always irritable.”

The mouse-man grinned. “Yeah, I can see that.” He sighed and put his notepad down on the table. “I can tell that you don’t like to talk about your feelings--”

“Isn’t that the understatement of the year,” Katsuki interrupted, rolling his eyes. The shrink ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“I’m not going to make you. I am going to make a suggestion for you, and I’d like for you to come back and have a chat soon to see if it is helping.”
“Let’s hear it, Mr. Shrink.” His voice was dry and annoyed, but he felt hope pattering at his chest. He guessed that he should be open to just about anything, seeing as he had went through the trouble of coming all the way here.
“Apologize to your friend. Give them your best effort at a promise that you’re working through some stuff, and see if you can figure out a way to let off some steam.”


Bakugou had to admit that he felt just the tiniest smidge of relief as he walked back to his dorm room. He didn’t know if what the shrink said would help him, but at least he was trying absolutely everything to get himself back in tip-top shape to hero-train. He had an appointment Wednesday after class, so at least he wouldn’t need to worry about those searching beady eyes until then.

Katsuki walked back to the dorm with his hood up (no way was he letting people see his hair all smooshed after that intern week with BestJeanist), and thought hard about what had just happened. He didn't know if he felt any better having shared... whatever that was back there, but at least he had some sort of plan in place on what to do to fix some of his bullshit. He didn't know what he was going to do to let off some steam, but apologizing to Kirishima was his priority anyway. The tone of his friend’s voice was completely defeated the night before, and Katsuki was pretty sure that he had hurt him more than ever before. He wasn't one to take apologizes lightly, but Kirishima was his only friend, and if anyone knew how to "let off some steam" it'd be that pointy haired fucker.

He found himself standing in front of his neighbor's door way too quickly. His hands were in his pockets and were obviously sweaty; he needed to make a mental note to wash these pants before he caught his literal ass on fire later. He stood there for what felt like an hour, raising his hand repeatedly but then shoving it back into his pocket. He was mulling words over in his head, trying to think of the best thing to say to him when Kirishima's voice sounded behind him. "Bakugou?"

Katsuki jumped like he'd been smacked and turned to look at the red-haired boy. His eyes must have been super wild looking because Kirishima widened his own eyes and raised his eyebrows in return.

"Uh, why are you standing outside of my door like a crazy stalker dude, bro?"

Kirishima was sweaty and his hair, pulled back from his face with his signature bandana, was almost matted down to his head and deflated. He had just had one massive workout, probably in the new gym. Katsuki almost stumbled over his words, but caught himself quickly.

"I was about to-to knock," he placed his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing the skin there awkwardly, and looked at the floor. "I wanted to apologize for last night," he mumbled.

Kirishima laughed and stepped up to open his door. "I'm sorry man, it almost sounded like you were trying to apologize." He turned to look at Katsuki and his red eyes turned from joking to serious. "Oh, shit, you were! That's-" it was Kirishima's turn to stumble over words, "That's legit, man, that's manly, I mean, thanks? Its fine? You wanna come in?"

Katsuki followed him inside in silence, ignoring anger bubbling under his skin. No, he wasn't going to lose it this time. Just because he was uncomfortable didn’t mean that he should go on a rampage. Kirishima had taken too much of his shit already; he deserved some niceties. "I uh," Bakugou started, flopping onto Kirishima’s messy bed, "I took your advice? I went to see the campus shrink today."

Kirishima was busying himself with changing into less sweaty clothes. He paused, halfway in a new tank top when he finished his sentence. "Oh? That's great, man, how'd it go?" Kirishima maintained a serious look at the blonde, and Bakugou found it difficult to make eye contact, so he ran his eyes down Kirishima's body instead. Damn, if he hadn't beefed up the last few months. Bakugou quickly moved his attention back to their conversation.

"Uh, great, even though the asshole's name is-"

"Dr. HONEY," Kirishima finished for him, and they both burst out laughing.

"Yeah, I mean, how in the hell do I take him serious with his Mickey Mouse sounding, greasy, lookin' ass?"

Kirishima finished pulling his tank top over his body and grabbed a towel to clean off all of the sweat, poofing out his hair in the process. His mouth was full of a toothy grin when he said, "Hey, man, I'm just glad you went. Dr. Honey's awesome even though he has a stupid name; everyone has sat down with him one time or another, we just don't talk about it." He sat down on the bed beside Katsuki. "So, what golden advice did he give you?"


Katsuki and Kirishima stood outside of Kaminari's dorm room later that night. Bakugou was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Kirishima thought it'd be a good idea to dress up a little, casually throwing a suit jacket over his usual black tank top. Bakugou also sported a form fitting scowl across his face.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this bullshit," he grumbled, tugging at his jeans. They were actually Kirishima's jeans, and they were way too tight for Bakugou. He agreed to wear them, with a string of curse words in protest, because picking out his own outfit for some lame dorm room party disgusted him.

"Honey said you needed to let off some steam, and that's what we're doing. I'm going to get you drunk and Kaminari is going to help by supplying beer and girls." He tapped on the door lightly.

Katsuki grimaced. "I'm interested in neither of those things, stupid-hair."

"Just relax, Boomy, you'll have a good time, I promise."

Katsuki had to quickly quell the shouts threatening to come out of his mouth at this new, even shittier nickname, and any further protests he possessed were buried because Kaminari opened his dorm door.

"BROOO!" He and Kirishima exclaimed at each other. Bakugou shoved his hands deep into the too-tight pockets of his jeans and focused on not losing his shit. He wanted to scoff, scream, and tell all the idiots at this party exactly what he thought about them. Instead, he found a seat on the bed next to Kirishima and tried to look as disinterested as possible.

Others in the room included Mina, Mineta, and Jiro. All three already had a cheap beer in their hand, and Kaminari was handing one to Kirishima as soon as they were seated. Bakugou fought a grimace on his face when he was handed a beer. Alcohol was not a thing he was interested in. It did nothing but limit his ability to be alert and ready to fight. Mineta was apparently already guzzling down his third beer, and the dipshit was openly flirting with both obviously annoyed girls in the room.

"Bakubro, open your drink, man, it's gunna get warm. Hey, Denki, we should play some kinda drinking game!" Kirishima was nearly shouting, obviously overcome with the excitement of being in a social situation at all.

Katsuki opened his drink and pretended to sip on the vile liquid. He had no intention of drinking, and was feeling more and more out of place as games began. The group laid down some rules because obviously they needed to be careful not to alert other people about this impromptu party; they were breaking about 20 dorm rules and none of them wanted a lecture from Iida in the morning.

"If you assholes get me into trouble, I'll burn you all alive," Katsuki said very seriously. Everyone but Kirishima looked off put by his sudden outburst after being quiet for the last 10 minutes. They shared a moment of silence and sideways glances before Kirishima said, “Anyway,” and moved the conversation along. He silently scolded himself. No wonder no one wanted to hang out with him. These jerks probably didn't even want him there in the first place; Kirishima had probably just brought him along.

Kaminari's bed was in a corner, so Bakugou eventually scooted himself into said corner, cross legged, with his untouched beer between his legs. They tried to pressure him into games. "I'll have more fun watching you dumb shits make fools of yourself anyway," he said, feigning an amused grin. He honestly wasn't feeling any of this, and was only sticking around because he felt he owed Kirishima.

The rest of the group quickly got drunk. Shitty beer coupled with how small statured they all were may have had something to do with it. Mineta was out on the floor within the first hour of Truth or Dare and Mina had ducked out to return to her room when she started feeling sick to her stomach.

Kirishima, in his drunken stupor, had moved to sit beside Bakugou on the bed earlier, but was now slewing nonsense out of his mouth. Jiro and Denki were huddled close together across the room, and Bakugou rolled his eyes at their flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. They were obviously flirting.

"And you know, I said to him, Bro, you just have to go for it, you know?" Bakugou glanced up from his phone and nodded in the red-head's direction. Kirishima had his head leaned against the wall, and his eyes were lidded. He chugged the rest of his beer and crushed the can, discarding it somewhere over the end of the bed. He, too, glanced at Jiro and Kaminari. He put his hand in front of his mouth and whispered, slurring some words, "I'm pretty sure they're going to just do it in front of us if we don't leave, bro." And then Kirishima slowly dragged himself off of the bed into a wobbly standing position. Bakugou placed his full beer on Kaminari's side table, his phone in his too-tight pocket, and guided Kirishima to the door. The two love-birds in the room didn't even notice they were leaving.

Once the door was open, Bakugou realized that trekking upstairs to their dorm rooms, quietly, and without Kirishima killing himself on the stairs wasn't going to be easy. Kirishima stumbled from side to side down the hallway, mumbling… or half-singing?... some shitty song. Bakugou growled under his breath. This idiot was going to get them caught.

"Come here, jackass, shut the hell up and let me carry you so we don't get expelled," Katsuki whispered harshly at his back.

Kirishima turned from his sauntering position in front of the blonde, smiled, and skipped to Bakugou, jumping up to be caught. Bakugou fought the urge to scream angrily as caught the red-head mid-air. He was basically cradling him. Kirishima was giggling.

"Why thank you, Bakudad!"

“Kirishima, if you don't shut the hell up, I'll drop you in the floor and set you on fire. If you live til tomorrow, Iida will lecture you into a coma," Bakugou stated calmly and dryly.

Kirishima closed an open, toothy mouth and nodded, eyes wide. The alcohol he was drinking was causing the faintest blush across his nose and cheeks. Katsuki scoffed at him, but then walked the rest of the way to the dorm with Kirishima in tow. There was some uncomfortable maneuvering to get the red-head's keys from his pocket and the door open, but Katsuki was sure if he set him down, he'd fall or run off somewhere like an idiotic two-year-old. Dealing with Kirishima in a normal situation was normally quite like dealing with a child, but he was inebriated and full of himself in this very moment. Bakugouu didn't realize that Kirishima was heavy lidded and almost asleep until he got him to the dorm bed. He fought the urge to just drop him on his ass into the bed and leave him as he lay for all the damned trouble he was causing.

He looked down at Kirishima fully ready to wake him up, but instead was distracted by the soft, serene face in front of him. He quietly, secretly, looked over his features. The kid's quirk was hardening, but his face was actually fair and childlike aside from the red-ish scar atop his right eye cutting into his eyebrow. Katsuki felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. He really had been a shitty person to the dumb-haired freak. This fucker really was the only one who genuinely cared about Bakugou, and really the only person Bakugou didn’t feel like killing on a daily basis. Defeated, he chose against his natural instincts and slowly leaned forward to place Kirishima on the bed. His plans were thwarted, though, because Kirishima groaned and tightened his hold around Katsuki's neck with his arms, still obviously asleep.

Bakugou cursed under his breath. Of course he was going to be difficult. "Come on, asshole, just let go," he muttered more-so under his breath than out loud. Kirishima mumbled something and Bakugou turned to look at his face. His eyes were open in small slits and they were glazed over. "Hah?" Katsuki started.

"Said you sssshould jusst sssstay wif me, Katsssskiii,” he slurred a little louder, furrowing his eyebrows. With that, the red-head pulled the blonde down on top of him in the bed. He caught himself with arms on either side of Kirishima's shoulders, in a sort of push-up position, but they were still mostly pushed flush against each other. Kirishima's eyes were fully closed now and he was obviously asleep with a small smile on his face. Stunned, and at an uncharacteristic loss of words, Katsuki just stared down at the peaceful boy.

He was lost in the boy’s soft features again for a while, not daring to move a single muscle to disturb him. They were stomach to stomach, thighs to thighs, and Katsuki could feel Kirishima’s breath on his face. He was peaceful and… angelic? Katsuki was having...feelings? The kind he had successfully always suppressed, the kind he had very adamantly never had for a boy.

Panic started to rise in his chest just as his arms started to give out. They were shaking a little bit. Katsuki pushed himself off Kirishima in one swift movement, and only released his breath when he saw Kirishima turn to his side, curling into the fetal position. As fast as he could, Katsuki slipped out of the dorm room of actual, literal hell, and into his own quiet solitude next door.


He lay awake for a very long time trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach. What the fuck just happened? he kept thinking to himself. First of all, why had Kirishima made that suggestion? Why had he said Bakugou should stay, and when had he ever called him Katsuki? Second, or third, or fucking whatever number: why did he feel like his stomach was going to flutter up into his throat?

He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the dimly lit ceiling of his room. Katsuki had decided a long time ago that he would never experience romantic or sexual feelings for any of his classmates. He thought it to be unprofessional, not to mention incredibly fucking stupid. Mineta was the bane of his existence with all of his girl-crazy comments, and sometimes he felt like he needed to punch Kaminari in the throat for joining in. They were at UA to learn to be heroes, not scout relationships. As a matter of fact, Katsuki never really dated at all. He had fooled around with a few girls in middle school, but he never let himself get emotionally attached just because he knew his future lifestyle wouldn't allow for such flippant and incredibly stupid behavior.

Why then, had he felt some sort of twinge in his chest when he saw how peaceful, smooth, and soft Kirishima's features had been when he was sleeping? Why then, had he felt overwhelmed by how close their bodies were when he was pulled on top of the dumb-haired-freak? And for the love of God , why could he not stop feeling his body pressing firmly into Kirishima's?



Bakugou found himself watching the sun rise only a few hours later. His confusion had turned to anger, but he wasn't angry with himself or even with Kirishima. Obviously the red-head had just had too much to drink, and his usual lovey and friendly demeanor had turned into playful flirting. Naturally.

No. He was angry with Dr. Fucking Honey. That asshole had told him to let loose and blow off some steam, and where had that gotten him? He'd broken like 30 different dorm rules, partied with a bunch of extras, had a few awkward moments with the only person he could remotely stand on this Godforsaken Earth, and discovered that despite every fiber in his being, he couldn't stop thinking about the way that moment on top of Kirishima had felt.

He gave the sun time to get up in the sky before he stormed out of his dorm room and out of the dorms entirely. He wore a hooded sweatshirt again, lose ball-shorts, and tennis shoes. He ran, hard, about 10 laps around the dorm buildings, just trying to numb the thoughts out of his head. His leg muscles were aching and his chest was burning before he finally made a u-turn and angrily ran directly into the medical wing with a scowl on his face. He bypassed Recovery Girl and went straight to Dr. Honey's office to pound on the door.

"Come in," his voice sounded, calm and soft.

"We need to fucking talk," Bakugou gasped as he slammed down into the old leather couch and pulled his hood from his sweat matted hair.

"Uhm," started the large, clammy man, obviously a little startled, "Katsuki did something happen?"

He had to force his lips together to keep from screaming. Anger with force like he hadn't felt in a while was welling up inside of him, probably from all of the times he’d swallowed it in the past few days. Through gritted teeth he said, "You planned this all along, didn't you? You wanted me to open up to him so that this would FUCKING HAPPEN!" His last two words forced out of his mouth in screams.

"Katsuki, I want to help you, but I have no idea what on Earth you're talking about. If something negative happened, that was definitely not my intention."

"It doesn't matter. It was stupid coming here," he said, standing up, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket to punctuate. "It was stupid to think that a dumbass shrink could offer any insight to help me deal with my problems. Bye."

Dr. Honey didn’t even protest as Katsuki bounded out the door, almost in a full run before he even cleared the medical wing. He was out the building doors in an instant and didn't stop once his feet hit the pavement. He ran on at full speed for a while, straining against muscles that weren't properly warmed up. The pain was almost clarity. Almost.

His head was so fucked up and swimming with confusing thoughts. He wasn't sure why he had even went there. What would it solve? The kidnapping obviously had screwed up his head for good. He had never had trouble controlling physical urges before, aside from kicking other people's asses. On top of all else, here he was, treating his only friend in this world like shit without meaning to, yelling or cursing, putting him down. Who was he fucking kidding? Kirishima was his best friend... and with the way he couldn’t get the boy’s face out of his mind’s eye even with all of the emotional fucking turmoil going on in his chest, he obviously had some weird feelings going on for him. Or maybe he didn't and it was just a moment type thing. Shit. He didn't know. Any emotion besides anger was almost foreign to him before those goddamn villains went and fucked his life up. His feelings felt out of control and the only thing he knew to do to calm them down was run, and that wasn't helping. He needed to fucking hit something.

He skidded to a stop. He had an idea.

There he was, once again, standing anxiously (if you could call it that) in front of Kirishima's door. He took a deep breath and pounded on it.

"For fuck's sakes, I'm coming. Mineta if it's you, nothing happened last night and no one got naked---" he stopped talking as he opened the door, squinting into the light.

"Holy hell, bro, you look rougher than I do, and I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk from last night." Katsuki  tried not to notice Kirishima’s toned, naked chest on display in front of him.

Bakugou kept his hands in his pockets and his hood up, averting his eyes. "I need to beat the shit out of something. Put on some goddamn clothes."

After about 15 minutes of sitting on Kirishima's bed, continuing to avert his eyes very purposely and bouncing his leg nervously, the two of them were in the new gym facilities across campus. Kirishima, like the nice guy he was, could tell something was off and didn't talk much or ask any questions as they walked, or even as they got there. They most definitely didn't talk about the weird occurrence the night before. He wasn't even sure if Kirishima knew what had happened. He was probably too tanked to remember anything anyway. He forced the thoughts out of his head before he started thinking about being pressed against his friend again.

Bakugou inwardly groaned at the amount of people at this place on a Sunday morning, but scanned the workout equipment for something he could punch. Without a word to Kirishima, he walked over to a punching bag hanging from a lower scaffolded ceiling. He started pounding at it as soon as he got close enough, and that was all he needed to shut out the world.

Anger poured out of him into his fists, and he fought the urge to just burn the entire facility down with a fiery explosion. Kick, punch, punch, punch, kick, kick. Aimlessly plowing his limbs into something was helping. This was different than training with the teachers or working towards a grade or being a hero. He savagely and mindlessly kept slamming fist and leg into the punching bag and let the emotional stress from the last few days flow out of him. It was sort of as if something was coming to a head. All the pressure to be an adult and deal with all his bullshit on his own was boiling up to the surface.

Don't mess up. Gotta train to be a hero. Make sure you smile. Why are your grades slipping? How could you be such an idiot? You're so strong; its amazing how you escaped those villains. Never mind that he had been traumatized. Never mind that All Might had come to a shitty end because of him. Never mind that he was obviously fucked up in the head and alone.

"Hey, man, you uh..." Kirishima's uneasy voice brought him out of his trance. He gave one last hard punch to the punching bag and winced. He looked down at his hands and legs. They were red, forming bruises, and swollen. His forehead was covered in sweat and he could feel the scowl written across his face as he made eye contact with the worried red-head before him.

Kirishima raised his hands palms up and shook them. "I'm not trying to tell you want to do, bro, but... you're supposed to wear gloves when you do that. You're going to break a knuckle."

Bakugou noticed the whole gym was quiet and people averted their eyes as he glanced around. His heart beat in his chest and a pit of rage grew in his stomach. Who were they to judge him for letting off some steam?

"I swear to God I'll break all of your necks if you dont mind your own fucking business!" he screamed at them. His fists, now sore, were clenched at his side. He knew sparks would form soon without intention if he didn't find some way to calm down. He finally brought his attention to Kirishima, who's brow was furrowed with worry. They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound he could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears, but then Kirishima’s face and crimson red eyes lit up like Christmas. He laid a gentle hand on Bakugou's shoulder. "Come on, man, I've got an idea."

Bakugou, concentrating with all his might to calm his anger, blindly followed Kirishima through the gym. The last thing he wanted was to blow up on the dumb-haired freak again and give himself another emotion, this time more guilt, to ruminate on. So, hopefully Kirishima's idea wasn't fucking stupid.

He had led them into the sparing area of the gym. There was a sign as you entered the area that read, "Teacher On Duty: Aiwaza." Aiwaza's name was scrawled on the whiteboard lazily in small, scratchy letters.

"What, dumb-hair, you need your ass kicked today or something?" Bakugou mumbled as they opened the doors to reveal numerous students sparring. The noise in this place was almost comforting to Katsuki because of the screaming and the smack of skin contacting with skin. Quirks of all elements and strengths were firing off. In the left farmost corner, Aiwaza could be seen in a glass boxed room, obviously leaned back in his asleep.

Kirishima led them over to a clear space and turned towards Bakugou, about 5 feet between them. He pulled off his hoodie and shirt in one swipe, leaving a perfectly toned, bare-skinned chest. Bakugou scowled at the fluttering pit in his stomach. Damn this red-haired freak and his general tendency to be naked. He made sure his eyes were fixed on Kirishima's face. The red-headed boy smiled a sharp-toothed grin and put his arms up in front of him, hardening them with his quirk.

"Hit me," he chimed, grin still splaying perfectly across his soft face. Bakugou urged his thoughts to stop being so fucking lame and placed a purposeful smirk across his lips.

"If that's what you want, then I'll give it to you." He swiped his hoodie and shirt off in one go, too, and rubbed his sore hands together. The pain was clarity, he told himself. For an instant, he almost thought Kirishima's eyes glanced over his body, but he pushed that thought out of his head quickly.

Kirishima smirked and crossed his arms in front of his body in a defensive position. This would be way too easy, he thought. It might not even help his anger, but at least he'd have fun knocking Kirishima on his ass.

Sparks flying from his hand, he landed an open handed strike on the hardened arms. Kirishima didn't flinch or move; just simply stood there smirking. He didn't fight back, and for once, that didn't piss Katsuki off. Kirishima was letting himself be used as a punching bag because he knew Katsuki needed to just hit something for real. What better way to kick someone's ass than to hit the one person who could just stand there and take it? Bakugou chuckled lightly, and landed another few, quick blows. He noticed how the his classmate stood solid, unswayed, and didn't even flinch. He lowered his head with a grin and pulled both hands up in front of himself, sparks sizzling out. He had tested the waters, and now it was time to really blow off some steam. "Just scream mercy when you've had enough, dumb-hair," he growled, and then he lunged forward.

Later, after Bakugou had exhausted himself and he was covered in sweat, he and Kirishima decided to jog back to the dorms for a final work out. Bakugou's legs and body screamed in agony from the physical torture he'd put himself through over the past 24hours. His knuckles and the palms of his hands were scratched and sorta bloody from the sharp edges of Kirishima's arms in his hardened state. Neither of them had thought about that being a problem, and his hands were definitely sore. He had definitely abused himself. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through a week of hero training in his current state, but he couldn't deny that he felt a little better. His emotions weren’t threatening to spill out of every orifice, and by the time they made it back to the dorms, the sun was beginning to set in the sky.

As they walked into the dorms, Kirishima spoke for the first time since he had verbally said mercy when he couldn't keep his quirk up any longer. "Hey, I hope I haven't overstepped any boundaries or anything, dude. I know you're dealing with some shit, and that's okay."

Bakugou didn't say anything, just followed him into the dorm common room. His stomach growled out of nowhere, and he realized he really hadn't eaten at all this weekend. Kirishima turned and grinned at him. "Pizza and slasher flicks?"
"Only if you bring me hot sauce and jalapenos, and only if you promise not to scream like a little girl the whole time," Katsuki retorted back.

Chapter Text

Kirishima smooshed himself into the wall on Bakugou's twin-sized dorm bed. They fit, but just barely, and their shoulders and knees touched. Sometimes Bakugou would rest the laptop between them, balancing it perfectly on both of their knees. This was Kirishima's favorite way to watch movies with the blonde because their legs stayed pressed together and leaning on one another wasn't weird in this context.

Of course he could never admit out loud that he liked Bakugou’s bicep pressed firmly against his own or speak into existence the way his stomach fluttered when they sat together laughing on the bed like this. God forbid he make what little friendship they had with each other awkward. God forbid Bakugou think feelings existed at all.
Kirishima had only known the angry blonde-haired kid in his class for as long as they'd been first years, and he had only recently started noticing just how goddamn beautiful the asshole was. He had never been attracted to men before, but this one… His jawline could cut through glass, his muscles were chiseled by greek gods, his hair was fluffy and totally pullable…

“What?” Bakugou muttered without taking his eyes off the screen. He shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth unabashed and uncaring of the pieces that tumbled through his fingers onto his black t-shirt. Kirishima sat, mouth agape, realizing that he had been lost in his thoughts thinking about his best friend.

He reached for any excuse. “Huh? Oh, nothing, bro, you've just got some popcorn uh…” he reached and plucked a few pieces from the black shirt, popping them in his mouth. Kirishima instantly regretted his decision. Heat spread through his mouth and he scrunched his nose as his eyes began to water.

“Whad da thuck?” he managed to say with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Bakugou was nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter, a beautiful smile spreading from ear to ear and soft laugh lines at his eyes.

“What? Did you forget I cover my shit in sriracha? You watched me toss the popcorn in it, you dumbass!” He snorted and shoved another handful into his mouth. Kirishima chugged water from a bottle he had between his legs and tried to ignore his embarrassment.

His mouth was on fire but his heart was fluttering. All of the boy's features we’re gorgeous and manly, so manly that Kirishima had to remind himself that he was built like a machine as well a lot of the times. But, there was something about this angry, blonde-haired asshole that just made him melt as if he'd been hit by one of Bakugou's blasts. Something about how his nose scrunched just the right amount, as if he were screaming, something about his eyes fluttering shut in laughter, and fuck, there was something about his smile.

He forced himself back to reality as a scream protruded from the laptop speakers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bakugou grin at the death occurring and he inhaled maybe a little too loudly. “You scared?” he asked, turning red eyes and raising his eyebrows with a mocking, smirking expression.

“Nah, stupid jump scares would get anybody!” he said with as much joking lilt to his voice as he could muster. He rubbed the back of his neck and adjusted himself into a proper slouch on the bed. Bakugou followed suit, discarding his popcorn bag neatly away in the trash across the room with a flick of his wrist. They were so close, almost snuggling, and Kirishima felt comfort wash over him as they settled in for the rest of the movie.

If he was being honest with himself, and he always was even to a fault, he had spent more time than he wanted to admit worrying about the kid beside him. Bakugou had a way of trudging on into danger or into situations without really thinking about his well-being, and well… he had been even more reckless since he'd been rescued by his classmates from the villains. Whether he was trying doubly hard to prove himself or not, the increase in aggression and snappy remarks didn't go unnoticed by Kirishima.

He had really only been trying to help when he had asked what was wrong, but Bakugou didn't see it that way. Everything was an attack on his efficiency as a hero, or as a person. He guessed that if enough people had drilled into his head that he had to be perfect all the time or be considered a failure, he'd be the same way.
But Kirishima was a happy-go-lucky guy, and he was manly enough to admit he found joy in the little things. Like the sun or the breeze, especially when those two things were kissing the blonde in Bakugou's hair or rustling the fluffy locks around. That's why it was so easy for him to be berated day after day by his best friend. He was confident and could take the words, but he also knew deep down that Bakugou didn't mean the things he said.

Especially after the other night when he had found the gorgeous man outside of his dorm room with an attempt to apologize. Kirishima would hold onto the uncomfortable way he had stood in front of the door for minutes beforehand, mumbling to himself with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Of course he had stood and watched him for a few minutes, completely unnoticed, before walking up and acting surprised. Bakugou didn't stay mad long, so he had expected him to show up sooner or later. His anger was like a reversed dynamite fuse: explosion, and then it fizzled.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't noticed exactly when Bakugou had fallen asleep, but he was dragged to existence by the faintest snore. That's when he realized the weight on his shoulder and looked over to be greeted with spikey blonde hair. Holy shit the gremlin was actually asleep on him. Kirishima was face to face with Bakugou's hair, which, despite all the sweating he’d done that day at the gym, still smelled faintly of lilac and camp-fire smoke. He assumed this was a combination of shampoo and Bakugou's natural smell. His heart fluttered in his chest. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He didn’t want to wake him up, not in the slightest.

He softly and quietly closed the laptop with his free hand and slid it down from their knees. He desperately wanted to cherish this peaceful moment with this beautiful man. It wasn't like Bakugou would ever do anything like this conscious, and plus, he needed the sleep. Bakugou stirred at the movement, and repositioned himself into the fetal position further down in the bed facing Kirishima with his head on Kirishima's right thigh. Did he know what he was doing? Was he awake at all? What the hell was happening?

His face flooded red and he was screaming on the inside. He urged the desire in the pit of his stomach to abort mission. Just because a very attractive boy's face was right next to his crotch didn't mean he was seeing any action. He needed to calm the fuck down.

His right arm was free now, and it twitched as his attention turned towards Bakugou's scrunched up body. He wasn't sure that he had ever saw Katsuki Bakugou look so innocent or so small. Normally, the chaotic boy would be sprawled about some flat surface, legs and arms haphazardly strewn away from his center. He was uncharacteristically vulnerable in that particular position and it made Kirishima’s heart ache. His hair was ruffled, his knees were pulled in front of him, and he snored lightly.

It was a sight to behold and all sexual desire immediately lost its fuel. It was as if the poor kid hadn't slept in days. Realization dawned on Kirishima that he maybe had not slept very well this weekend because of all the inner turmoil he was facing. Without thought, he closed the distance between his hand and Bakugou's back. He ever-so-gently began to rub small circles around the middle of his back, holding his breath. He was nervous to be doing something so… intimate with someone so against feeling, but his concerns washed away when tension visibly released from the blonde’s body and he sighed in his sleep.

Well, emotionally inept or not, everyone needed a comforting touch now and then.

Chapter Text

Bakugou woke up slowly, blinking at the daylight spilling through his black, sheer curtains. He started to stretch, but froze. It took him only a moment to become keenly aware that something was off. He recognized the dark outline of his dorm room in front of him, but there was no way it was a normal morning because it seemed as though someone was sleeping behind him in his bed.

His chest fluttered in panic, but reality quickly flooded in and he remembered he and Kirishima had been watching movies the night before. He fought at a blush creeping up on his face as the boy behind him softly snored. He had fallen asleep early like a nerd and Kirishima had stayed?

The red-head's slurred words from that previous Saturday floated through the air around him. You should just stay with me, Katsuki, he had said in his drunken stupor. Memories of that moment caused Bakugou's stomach to flutter, with butterflies this time, not panic, and he inhaled a shaky breath. What was this idiot doing in his bed?

As quietly and fluidly as he could, Bakugou turned himself over to assess the situation. Kirishima was facing him, and Bakugou felt his cheeks involuntarily turn red because the idiot had been spooning him. Well, not touching him, but they were definitely almost crotch to ass. He furrowed his eyebrows in the beginnings anger because how could he do something so stupid, but it all dissipated when he realized the sight before him. Just like the other night when he had taken Kirishima back to his room, he studied the soft features of his face. They were not even a foot apart, and Bakugou could feel Kirishima's hot breath on his face as well as see just how fucking perfect the boy was. He couldn't deny it, laying here in front of him, so close… he was attracted to his best friend. Kirishima twitched and snored once loudly and Bakugou found himself grinning. He was so damn cute like this with his idiot face all angelic and those stupid beautiful eyes darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. His hardening quirk couldn't fool him; this boy was a ray of fucking sunshine in his life, and he was glad they had made up, at least for the time being. He worried that some day he'd go too far and lose him forever.

He was happy to lay there staring at him all day, but Bakugou could never deal with himself if Kirishima caught him staring or blushing. Even if he just caught him being awake first, they'd have to have an awkward conversation about why he wasn't screaming. He would never want to openly admit his feelings, especially since they were honestly really fucking terrifying right now. He was half-asleep and not willing to think clearly about his inner turmoil yet. The butterflies in his stomach and equally aggressively fluttering heart almost laid anger deep in his chest again because just what the fuck did Kirishima think he was doing? He used that anger to muster up enough courage to speak.

“Oi, asshole,” he said gruffly, ignoring the crack in his voice that showed he wasn't as composed as he'd wanted to be. Kirishima's eyes fluttered open, and amongst the pure look of confusion, Bakugou was lost deep, deep down in his crimson red eyes. He couldn't breathe, and this wasn't okay. The anger erupted.

Bakugou lept to his feet and began screaming at the half-awake boy rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What the hell are you doing in here?!”

“Uh,” he was on his feet, and Kirishima wasn't as good at hiding his emotions because his face was just as red as his eyes. “I, uh, I guess I passed out, dude, I'm sorry.”
There was a moment of silence as Bakugou stared incredulously, hands halfway in the air, growls laying just behind gritted teeth. Kirishima yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing and seeming a little dumbfounded. Bakugou tried not to notice the sliver of perfectly toned flesh peaking out from under his shirt because of the raised arm. This just made his anger and incredulity erupt harder.
“G-get outta here, dumb hair! The slumber party's over! We have class!” he shouted, motioning at the door. Spending one more moment with Kirishima would probably drive him to fucking drink. His feelings were raw, unwanted, and confusing… and the boy just looked too gorgeous in the morning sunlight all sleepy and toned and…
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!” Kirishima stumbled towards the door wordlessly, furrowed eyebrows and confusion spread across his own face.
As the door shut behind Kirishima, Bakugou felt his heart continue to pound in his chest. Here he was again, screaming and being mean to the poor kid for nothing once again. He had probably just fell asleep and had no fathomable idea that Bakugou couldn't handle close contact with him. Angry, he tidied up his room from the night before to its usual perfection (minus all the junk under his bed that he still needed to clean) and aggressively pulled his school uniform off the closet rack.


Some eight or nine hours later, Bakugou was sprawled across the floor amongst books, eraser firmly planted between his teeth in thought. He was stuck on ethical scenarios and kept erasing answers over and over until his worksheet was just a big smear. He didn't want to think about what he would do in a scenario; he wanted to be in that scenario and react on instinct. “This shit's stupid,” he muttered and threw his pencil down amongst the papers. He laid down on his stomach and placed his head in his arms.

He couldn't stop thinking about Kirishima long enough to do anything anyway, so it didn't matter. Class was awful that day with the amount of times he zoned out, and his notes were probably fucked. He’d need to ask fucking Deku for his shit. It was pissing him off how often obnoxious hair and pointy teeth flashed into his head. Concentration probably wasn’t happening any time soon. It didn't help that he had basically raged the poor fucker out of his room for no reason other than he fell asleep cuddled up to Bakugou's ass...

He sighed loudly and propped himself up on one arm. He needed to hit something, and what better thing to hit than the person you just couldn't get out of your mind?

Bakugou: hey dumbass wanna go to the gym? I need to hit things
Kiri: ill let you beat me up if you help me with maths afterwards
Bakugou: deal

Bakugou was smiling as he pulled his hoodie over his head. He left his papers scattered, grabbed his keys and phone, and stood directly by the door waiting for Kirishima to knock. The knock came and he silently counted to 10 before opening it so as not to seem too eager. He scalded himself for being dumb because who the fuck was he right now?

The walk to the gym was mostly comfortable silence. Like always, they didn't talk about the awkward experience between them, and Bakugouu didn't have to apologize for being such an ass this morning because Kirishima wasn't even mad anymore.

The gym was filled with people in sparring sections and Bakugou couldn't fit on all ten of his fingers the people he absolutely did not want to see. He swelled with annoyance and his fingers twitched at the urge to set things on fire. These nerds had no business training because they'd never be the number one hero anyway. Why couldn't they just evacuate the place so he could train in peace?

All of his annoyances were swept away when they stepped into an enclosed sparring room on the south side of the building. Kirishima obviously knew more about the gym than he did, because he didn’t know this place even existed. The glass door shut behind him and all of the noise was gone. It was different from the last time they had sparred. Suddenly, it was just him and an eager Kirishima locked in a soundproof room together. A comfortable silence settled in as they undressed and stretched out their limbs. Bakugou concentrated very hard on not looking at the nice curve of Kirishima's body as he arched out his back. He hopped up from his sitting position on the floor and bounced from foot to foot to warm his body up a little. Kirishima was covering his hardened arms and hands with some kind of ace bandage fabric.
“Oi, what's that shit?”

“You remember last time? I'm pretty sure your hands are still banged up. I know you're a masochist, bro, but you don't need bloody your hands again.” Bakugou felt a small blush race across his cheeks because of the masochist comment, and his stomach fluttered with anger...or nerves. He didn't want to figure out the difference right now because his partner had noticed the furrow of his eyebrows and was chattering on quickly. He probably thought he’d pissed him off by being considerate.

“....I figured I'd harden myself out, cross my arms, and just let you wail on me like last time. I can practice timing my harden skill while you beat the shit out of an impenetrable force.” His toothy grin was coupled with a wink in Bakugou's direction, and his stomach lurched with butterflies once again. It was definitely nerves or just his body reacting to something so fucking gorgeous, but-- Goddamnit, dumb hair.

Bakugou could only muster a nod in his direction, and Kirishima took that as an indication to get into position. “I-I'm not going to take it easy on you, dude,” Bakugou hated the way his voice sounded all shaky and uneven. It put just enough anger into his chest to drive him forward with his first blow. Kirishima grinned at him through bounded up arms. He struck again and again, creating some rhythm. Sometimes he'd kick other times he'd jab hard enough to push the red-head back a few feet. Eventually, he got caught up in the rhythm and let his feelings pour out through his fists. The sounds of their impact echoed in the small room and lulled Bakugou into a mindless trance. This was way different than last time when he was lost in his thoughts instead of avoiding them. It felt nice to release some tension and it felt nice to forget where he was or who he was with. He just continued jabbing, coupling in some small blasts here and there.

After about 20 minutes Kirishima, without warning, took a few steps back. Bakugou missed a rather hard kick and stumbled, almost falling on his ass. “What the hell, dumb hair?!” he shouted.

“I'm sorry,” he huffed, “I reached my limit all of the sudden. I wasn't even feeling tired.” He sat cross-legged in one fluid motion and put his head in his hands, breathing hard.

“Too much for ya, eh?”

He waved his hand. “No, no, I think I just exhausted myself by holding it out that long. Being an impenetrable force isn't easy, you know.” He looked up at Bakugou. His face was sweaty, his hair was matted down around his face, and he was biting on his bottom lip (probably in pain). Bakugou felt his face turn red without his permission as he could think of about 20 different scenarios where Kirishima would be looking exactly the way he was then. He was gorgeous and wonderfully caring when Bakugou was just using him to take out some anger. For once, his butterflies didn't turn to an angry swarm of bats in his stomach; they fluttered around happily. It made him feel like throwing up, a good way? There was no doubt about it. He didn't want to admit it, but he was in deep shit.

Chapter Text

The next school week had started and proceeded on rather normally despite the weird events that happened throughout the weekend. He managed to act fairly normal around Kirishima for the most part, but their interactions had been limited to classrooms and group homework sessions with pikachu and the alien bitch. They'd not really been alone much, and Bakugou couldn't tell if he was actively trying to avoid it or just getting really fucking lucky.

He'd went over in his head a few times whether or not he should go back to see Dr. Honey. He really wasn't having trouble coping as much since he and Kirishima had been sparring, but he had also been confronted with these weird crush-like feelings for his best friend over the weekend. These were coupled with the realization that he should be questioning his sexuality, and well… by Wednesday he found himself standing in front of Dr. Honey's door once again.

“Come in,” his voice chided after a very forceful knock. Bakugou wasted no time in trudging in and plopping down on the weird leather couch.

“So, I did all the things you told me to, but I've got new things to deal with as a result. Since you got me here, I'm really looking for you to get me the fuck out, doc.” Bakugou grinned cheekily and folded his legs up on the couch under him.

Dr. Honey blinked. “You're feeling rather amped--”

“No, no, no, dude. Don't head shrink me or feel my feelings or whatever the hell it is you're doing. I'm only here for advice,” he interrupted.

“Yes, I see,” Honey peered over his oily glasses and gave the blonde a half smirk with dry lips. “You see, dude, I have to know what's actually going on before I can give you advice… I can’t read your mind.”

Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed in dismay. He thought the shrink could just… tell him what to do. He had siked himself out to come down here on the pretense that he wouldn't really have to talk about shit as long as the shrink would just… tell him what to do.

“Oooo, straight from excitement to disappointment. What can I help you with, kid?”

Bakugou fought anger bubbling in his chest. He placed one hand palm up on his knee and made little sparks with his quirk to try and keep his anger at bay. It would have looked like a weird meditation stance to anyone else, but to him it was the only coping mechanism he had to get words to spill out of his fucking mouth. Through gritted teeth he managed to force syllables together. “I found a way to… let off steam.” His sentence was punctuated with a little pop from his hand. “I've been sparring with that friend I told you about.” Pop, pop. “But somehow or a-fucking-nother, that backfired,” pop , “because I thinkIhaveacrushonthefreak.” Pop, pop, pop. He stared down at his lap and the little sparks coming off his hand. He could tell his face was red, and he absolutely hated it.

"Oh, oh-kay," the shrink droned out slowly, obviously measuring his response before he replied. "So," he swallowed in between sentences, accenting a pause, "have you ever felt this way about anyone before?"

Anger welled inside Bakugou and sparks popped off from his fingers. He was embarrassed to be having this conversation, but embarrassment wasn't an emotion he could handle properly, so he copped to what he could face in this moment. "Hah? You mean… felt the fucking butterflies roll around when I look at 'em sorta feeling? No, this is the first bullshit of that kind that I’ve ever known."

"Do you know if this person feels the same way?"

Bakugou huffed in exasperation. He really didn't know. Did Kirishima like guys? If he did, was Bakugou even on his radar? None of that really mattered anyway. "I treat him like so much shit, doc, I doubt I've ever even crossed his mind like that."

"Well, Katsuki,” he sighed, “I have to say I'm proud of you for sharing a little bit more with me each time you rush into my office…unannounced." Bakugou raised his eyes to meet the shrink's and forced a half smile, only managing a partial grimace on one side of his face. "This… guy you have a crush on… this is normal teenager stuff, and I'm an expert on it seeing as it's been a task for me many times over my years as a therapist. I'm glad something is distracting you from other… issues--"

"I don't have any fucking issues anymore. I told you, I took your advice and found a way to let off steam. Problem solved." He nodded his head once to punctuate, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, but, Katsuki, people don't experience what you experienced and come out of it normal on the other end. You were kidnapped. It's okay to have some trauma you need to work through. I can help you with your crush, but we still have work to do on the other stuff, too.”


Katsuki left the shrink's office feeling fucking raw. He knew he originally went there to solve his other issues (that he definitely wasn’t having), but honestly since his realization that he developed some sorta fucking crush on his best friend, he hadn't really felt all that bothered by the other stuff. Sparring with Kirishima was helping him blow off steam, but (and these were definitely not the shrink's words) Kirishima was now acting as a distraction from his real problems... or whatever.

The blond huffed and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Classes were over for the day, the sun was setting in the backdrop of UA's campus, and all the fucking feelings talk gnawed at his gut like a hungry shark. They had spent a good 30 grooling fucking minutes going over the events of that night, successfully pulling out every piece of bullshit that he had managed to drill deep into his skull over the past months. It was all so foreign and easier to imagine that it never happened to begin with.

He felt empty inside in the absolute worst way. His memories from the villian attacks and the kidnapping were starting to pour back into his mind in drafts, using that empty space as an opening to fuck him up. It didn’t help that he looked up and noticed just how fucking similar the goddamn sky looked that day in comparison to right fucking now. Streaks of red, darker clouds looking like smoke from the nearby wreckage of buildings. Audible screams from people calling for loved ones or fleeing the scene. One-for-All beating All Might down into the crowd as he soared overhead, grasping Kirishima’s hand in his escape…

His heart started racing, and he all but had to close his eyes until he reached the dorm entrance. He had to keep telling himself that he wasn’t in danger, that villians weren’t right on his heels. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding as the door shut behind him and blindly found his way to the elevator. There was an incessant buzzing in his ears and he couldn’t focus. It was a miracle that he managed to hit the right floor button.

He needed violence of some kind and a distraction. Somehow, he found himself in front of Kirishima's dorm room, once again hesitating because of some idiotic fluttering in his stomach. Clarity happened, his hearing came back, and he went straight from a near panic attack to nervous sweats. He was still trying to catch up with the complete and total bullshit coursing through his veins when his fist acted on its own and knocked on the door. Jesus christ, these stupid fucking feelings were going to be the death of him.

Kirishima shouted something from behind his door and Katsuki could hear him stomp toward it. When he answered, the red-head was still focused on his video game across the room, controller in hand, headset lopsided across his spikey hair. He rushed back to the bean bag chair shoved against the foot of his bed, and mumbled a flippant, "Come in, bro," at Katsuki. Bakugou was thankful for the red-head’s distraction because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the cold sweat slowly disappearing from his temple. He at least had until the end of the match to get himself together properly. He closed the door behind him, remaining silent, and took a seat on Kirishima's bed, legs hanging over the foot board. He focused on his breathing for a long while before he allowed himself to properly look at Kirishima.

The nerd had his tongue perched between sharp teeth, and his forehead was wrinkled in determination, two short, red eyebrows drawn together. His muscular legs were crossed delicately beneath him. The way he was crumpled up on the beanbag gave him a small childlike appearance. Fucking disgustingly cute, Katsuki thought as he reached for a spare controller on the bedside table. At least he was capable of stringing thoughts together.

"DENK, the bitches got me, Denk, noooooo," he cried dramatically, leaning his head back to finally, properly acknowledge his friend. "We're getting our asses kicked, bro, can you please come teach them a lesson before Denki bursts my eardrums with his unbridled rage?"

Katsuki cocked an eyebrow and held up his controller, all the while being entranced by Kirishima's perfect damn eyes. "Oi," he started, but his voice came out strangled, so he tried again, rage at his dumb body bumbling in his chest. "Oi, can we just fucking do this, dumb hair?! I need to murder something."

Not phased at all, Kirishima's perfect ass says into the microphone placed haphazardly on his head, "Yeah, Denk, Bakubro is gunna join, hold up." Bakugou resists the urge to reach out and straighten the headphones the fuck out because how does he live in this world without them affixed properly to his head?

The boys played some random shooting game, curse words spewing from lips and Katsuki pausing to smack Kirishima roughly in the back of his dumb head for dying so many times. Obviously, Bakugou wiped the floor with the other team's faces, finishing the last match with 30 kills all on his own. By the time they finished a few matches, he had almost forgotten all about his almost- but not fucking really -panic attack earlier.

Finally off the party chat with the electric bastard, Kirishima laid horizontally across his bed behind Bakugou, and Bakugou laid back with his legs still hanging off the bottom of the bed. His head was level with Kirishima’s left thigh. "Holy cow," the red-head said with a sigh, "it's already 9pm, bro. Time sure flies when you’re kicking ass." He was idly scrolling through his stupid social media feed, phone held precariously over his face.

Katsuki snorted. “The only ass getting kicked in those matches was yours because you died I don’t know, like… 20 times?” Kirishima giggled and Katsuki felt like he might just explode from the very idiotic realization that they were laying in bed together. How could such a normal thing, laying on the bed with shitty hair, make him feel like he was going to throw up? Just a few days ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about being close to the spikey haired freak, but now he couldn't think about anything but their bodies laying in close proximity to each other in opposite fucking directions on the bed.

"Hey," Kirishima said softly, looking down awkwardly at him. Katsuki’s stomach dropped. There was no way that he could handle the absolute concern laced in that once syllable word. All of his previous work to put himself back together was about to be shattered just because Kirishima sounded like he cared when he really shouldn’t. He tilted his head just enough to lock eyes with the boy, willing him not to ask the question that Bakugou just knew was hanging on his lips. No, dumb-hair, he’s not okay, not in the slightest. Not when he can barely catch his fucking breath when looking at you…  or when looking at the goddamn sunset because they’re both equally beautiful and devestating.

"You okay?” he almost whispered, despite Katsuki’s screaming inner dialogue. There it was, there's the voice that would probably be his unraveling. He could feel the pieces unfurling inside him slowly. He needed to do something, and fast, because all of this raw emotion bullshit was coming up in his throat threatening to spill over in some weird tidal wave mixed with fire and nitroglycerin sweat.  

Without thinking, probably acting in sheer panic, Bakugou faked a stretch and nudged dumb-hair’s perfect arm just hard enough to knock his phone out of his hand to land with a satisfying smack right in the middle of his forehead. And just like that, they were laughing, and Bakugou had pulled himself out of the thick, disgusting emotions.

Somewhere in between laughs, Kirishima was saying, "Ow, bro! You asshole!” Katsuki was maybe laughing too hard, eyes closed and hand over mouth, completely oblivious, because suddenly Kirishima was wrestling himself on top of Katsuki in a straddling position. Just like that, the red-head was basically in his lap. He was holding a pillow and Katsuki had all but a second to be fucking mortified because-their-dicks-were-absolutely-almost-touching before he was knocked in the face repeatedly by a gorgeous laughing boy.

So, normal Katsuki Bakugou would probably have exploded shitty-hair’s stupid pillow until little crisp feathers floated around them, but this traitorous person controlling his body continued to laugh and grab at the pillow as he exclaimed, “Are we really having a pillow fight, you fucking nerd?”

Between smacks with the dense-ass feather pillow, Katsuki heard him say, “More like I’m beating your ass with a pillow and you’re going to take it.” He finally caught the pillow, like a period at the end of Kirishima’s sentence, and ripped it from his hands, pulling the red-head forward, flush against him, chest to chest, in the process. Silence ricocheted off the dorm room walls like a goddamn bullet. Oh, fuck.

Kirishima lingered just long enough to give Bakugou yet another memory of the dumbass’s hard body pressed firmly against his before he scrambled up off of him. Bakugou threw his legs over the bed into a sitting position and grasped for fucking straws . He knew his face was red. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Kirishima was also fighting a crimson hue akin to his hair-color on his cheeks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, it felt like decades ticked by before Katsuki was able to react, and when he did, it wasn’t with anger. Somewhere in those excruciating seconds, he realized he was still holding the pillow and lunged for Kirishima, whacking him up-side the head with the heavy thing. Stunned, it took dumb-hair another second to realize what had just happened before he smirked and grabbed another pillow from his bed.

Katsuki grinned. “Oh, its on, rock-boy.”


Sometime before they burst Kirishima’s probably very expensive pillows at the seams, their assaults on each other stopped. Katsuki sat breathlessly against the wall atop Kirishima’s bed, and Kirishima tossed him a water from his minifridge.

“We don’t have to talk about the fact that you literally cried mercy,” Bakugou said, cocking an eyebrow up at him. Kirishima searched for his phone among the wreckage of sheets and blankets on his bed, only sitting down once it was safely in tow.

“And we don’t have to talk about the fact that you screamed like a little girl... multiple times,” he retorted.

Katsuki just snorted and leaned his head back. Damn, he really needed that, which was fucking hilarious considering that they had just had a pillow fight like two little brats at a sleepover. He was elated, happy even, but he still couldn’t shake that fucking empty pit in the bottom of his stomach. The day had been cruel to him, reminding him multiple times of his fucking trauma, and for some reason he just couldn’t get it out of his head. Not even with the beautiful red-head to distract him. Dr. Honey should have warned him that all of this fucking talk they were doing was going to turn him into a pussy.

His nose scrunched up and he felt a snarl form across his face. Oh, there it is. The anger boiled up under his skin so fast that he couldn’t keep up, so he couldn’t react normally. He was presented with a foreign feeling this time, something he couldn’t really contain or recognize. He was suddenly left with an awful realization that he was out of control. With his heart thumping wilding in his chest out of fear, sadness, pain, or whatever the fuck , he felt tears brim his eyes and for once, his dumb ass couldn’t tell them to promptly fuck off.

Chapter Text

Kirishima was stunned. He had hit Katsuki Bakugou in the face with a pillow, and he wasn’t in the burn wing of the nearest hospital. He had straddled the explosion boy’s waist and had what he could only consider to be an absolutely erotic pillow fight with his best friend, and he was still alive. He was more than stunned, he was elated, speechless even. He knew deep down, however, no matter how happy he was to have fun in this way, that this was weird. His friend was not okay and something was definitely not right. The weekend watching Bakugou zone out and beat the shit out of him had told him that. Of course, that didn’t stop him from committing to memory every little laugh line next to his crimson red eyes as he took a big, supersized pillow to the face.

Nose buried deep into his phone, lost in thought in comfortable silence next to Bakguo, he almost didn’t notice when the dude tensed up beside him. Kirishima had known him long enough to know that he shouldn’t ask questions or acknowledge the change in the goddamn atmosphere when Bakugou’s anger set in. It wasn’t until some unworldly sob erupted beside him that he turned to look at the blonde, eyes wide.

And then his heart broke. Kirishima’s heart actually broke in two as literally the strongest, most beautiful person he knew shattered audibly beside him. Something was definitely wrong with Bakugou. Without thinking about the consequences, Kirishima pulled the blonde down by the arm to rest his head on his thigh, much like the night he fell asleep on him. It was like Bakugou’s body was malleable when it most definitely was not supposed to be because he followed suit willingly and blindly as tears cascaded down his beautiful, angled face. The grimace of pain written in lines across his forehead and scrunched up nose was unsightly. Katsuki Bakugou cried heaving, loud, devastating sobs when he was laid on his side. If Kirishima had to look at his friend in this amount of pain, he would probably lose his shit. He was thankful that Katsuki’s face was turned away from him.

A million thoughts raced through Kirishima’s head as sobs akin to screams ripped their way out of Bakugous mouth. He wasn’t sure that he had ever saw anyone like this, let alone could he imagine he’d ever witness this particular boy to break apart this way. He was stunned into silence and lost in his thoughts. Should he get someone? How long was this going to last? Did Bakugou need to go to a hospital? Was Kirishima allowed to touch him? He forfeited rational thought since this was not a rational situation and instinctively rubbed circles across Bakugou’s back, fighting the urge to touch his hair because he was sure that’d piss him off.

“Hey, hey, Katsuki, shhh, I’m here. Its okay. I’m here,” he managed to whisper. His friend’s first name was foreign on his lips, but came out naturally with his concern. This seemed to cause the sobs to wreck his body harder, and Kirishima grimaced as fingernails dug into his thigh.

It was at that moment that he made another irrational decision to probably sign a death sentence for himself, but he couldn’t stand it any longer. He gently nudged the crying boy up, his body as malleable as ever, and laid them down together on his bed in the spooning position. Bakugou instantly formed himself into the fetal position and Kirishima wrapped his body and his arms around him instinctually. It was so weird just how fucking small Katsuki Bakugou could look or feel. Oh, gods, was he trembling?

Kirishima continued to whisper soft reassurances while nuzzling into his blond hair, hoping to some God somewhere that this would be over soon. He would help him ride out whatever storm this was, but he never wanted to witness this again. While he enjoyed the feeling of his friend’s body pressed into his, he didn’t want to think about what sort of wire got crossed in Katsuki’s head to make him do something so unbelievably out of character. Soon enough though, the boy stopped shaking and the sob-screams turned into soft hiccups which later turned into silence. Kirishima braced for impact because there was no way in hell he was getting away with what he was doing.

“Kiri?” the blonde murmured.

His breath caught in his throat at the nickname, but somehow he managed, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being such a fucking pussy,” he said gruffly, voice thick with his spent emotions.

“Hey,” he said, all but praying in his head that he was doing the right thing. He pulled at Bakugou’s shoulder to turn him over to face him. The blonde complied and Kirishima’s heart broke for a second time that night. His eyes were puffy, lips swollen and red, probably from biting them to hold back his sobs. His tear stained face was probably the most equally beautiful and devastating thing he could ever imagine seeing in his life. “You have absolutely no reason to be sorry, bro.” He didn’t realize he was brushing hair away from Bakugou’s face until he felt the boy’s soft locks between his fingers as he spoke. “How many times do I have to keep telling you that I’m here for you before you get it through your thick skull?” He knocked lightly on Bakugou’s temple to accent his point.

Bakugou swallowed and for a moment, Kirishima thought he was going to start crying again. He didn’t cry, but Kirishima wasn’t spared because Bakugou’s nose scrunched up and a that horrific look of pain from earlier crossed his face. His voice came out in a soft whisper when he spoke. “Kiri, are you ever scared of me?”

“W-what? No, no, no, never. Of course not.” Both of his hands were on the sides of his friend’s face now, smoothing fresh tears away with his thumbs. He couldn’t even imagine what the hell was going on in the boy’s head right now to bring him to that conclusion.

“Deku is scared of me,” he hiccuped. “People look at me like some monster. The villians thought I would be easy to convert. I-- I--” A sob interrupted his sentence and Kirishima pulled him to his chest, rubbing small circles in his back once again.

“Shhhh. Katsuki, you’re a good person and you’re going to be a great hero one day. Fuck everyone else. I just need you to breath right now.”

A couple of beats of silence and breathing and Kirishima could barely stand the close proximity of their bodies and then, “You’re a ray of fucking sunshine, you know that?” the blonde mumbles into Kirishima’s tear stained shirt. Sleep was thick in the boy’s voice. The storm seemed to have passed, and Kirishima was pretty sure he was going to just pass out in his arms. He couldn’t really complain.

“I try.”

Chapter Text

Sometime in the middle of the night, Katsuki woke up feeling like complete and total shit. Even on his toughest days of hero training, he didn’t even feel like this much shit. Like, the biggest pile of stinking, heaping shit ever shat. He hurt all over, his throat was raw from sobbing so hard, his head throbbed, and somewhere deep down inside, he was pretty sure his pride was hurt. He groaned and stretched his aching body out from its fetal position and grimaced at the crusty feeling around his eyes. Fuck, he had really done a number on himself with this whole pussy breakdown stuff. The empty pit in his stomach was persistently still present, but less of a black hole now.

It only took him a few seconds to realize two things: he was alone in the bed, and the room was completely dark. Panic set in instantly and he bolted upright in the bed. “Kirishima?” he barked out, probably more harshly than he intended. He mentally berated himself for being so weak as to lose his shit in front of his crush, and yeah, he might as well start calling it by its fucking name. He had a crush on Kirishima. What other dipshit would hold him while he completely fell apart and not complain when he got snot all over his t-shirt?

From across the room he heard stirring and Kirishima grunted back a reply. “Where the fuck are you, hair-for-brains?” The dark was not his friend, though; the dark was cold and reminded him of the dark room the villians had proposed their shitty plan to him in. He’d held it together in front of them out of sheer spite and will power, but obviously he had been scared. It was difficult to keep the panic from rising in his throat.

“-m down here. What’s wrong?” Shit, he’d woken him up.

“Are you in the floor, you dumb fuck?” Had the dipshit really given him his bed? “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, get the hell up here.” Because I seriously don’t want to sleep alone right now, he finished in his head.

He could hear Kirishima groan and then shuffling noises as he pulled himself out of the floor. Hands blindly found his shoulders, and Kirishima hopped over Bakugou in one swift movement. On a different night, in a different scenario, Katsuki would have probably yelled at him for touching him, but right now, he didn’t give two nasty shits what the boy did as long as he wasn’t alone in the dark. The sleepy boy shuffled down into the bed next to him, facing the wall. It wasn’t as nice as the embrace he’d had when he fell asleep before, but as Bakugou got comfortable on his back, the warmth by his side soothed him nonetheless.

For some goddamn reason, he felt the need to explain himself, to give some reason why he had completely fallen apart earlier in the night. It felt like… once he let some of it out to Dr. Honey earlier in the day, it was like a dam broke and all of his bullshit was just going to flow out freely like emotional diarrhea. Like one big sewer shit-show.

“Oi, dumb-hair,” he said, pushing his elbow into the other boy’s back probably a little too hard.

“Ow! What’s wrong?” Well, if he wasn’t awake before, he was definitely awake now.

He wanted to say a million things, but instead he said, “If you tell anyone about this shit, I’ll blow you into a million pieces.” It was an empty threat, a cop out, but he knew that Kirishima wouldn’t say anything to anyone anyway.

“My lips are sealed, bro, I promise,” he mumbled into the wall, sounding just about as threatened as the phrase had come out.

A few beats of silence passed and then, “Bakubro?”

“I told you, that’s a shitty nickname, dumb-hair,” he dead-panned.

“I can tell that you really want to talk about something, so you should just spit it out. We’re already here. This shit has already hit the fan. You can just tell me.”

“What?! How can you tell, dumb-hair?” he jabbed his elbow into his friend’s back once more, and Kirishima finally turned over on his stomach to at least face him to some degree, even if they couldn’t see each other in the dark.

“Because, asshole, you’ve been shaking your leg since I climbed into bed with you and you keep,” he paused to gently poke Bakugou in the side, “jabbing me with your damned elbow.”

He immediately noticed the leg-shaking and willed himself to stop. Bakugou was thankful, at that particular moment at least, for the darkness that surrounded them, because he literally couldn’t control the blush creeping across his cheeks. He didn’t know he had a fucking tell . Is that how Kirishima always knew that he wasn’t okay? What the fuck?

He sighed, exasperated. “Ugh, I guess I just… I…”

“Don’t get emotionally constipated on me now,” the red-haired boy teased, mumbling into his arms.

Bakguo turned over towards him on his side and huffed in frustration.

“Fuck you. This is really fucking hard, you asshole. I don’t know how to fucking feel anything let alone put it into goddamn words,” he said, but there was no venom in his words. He was sorta worried that he wouldn’t be able to ever sound vicious again. It was sorta kinda his fucking thing. “I feel empty inside, dude,” he said, defeated. It was the only thing he could come up with.

“Woah. That’s… deep,” the red-haired boy said. In any other scenario, Katsuki would focus on just how fucking cute and sleepy the boy sounded. But right now, his heart was pounding because of course it was. He was having feelings.

“I guess I also… wanted to say thank you? For not being shitty earlier when I was a disgusting mess?” For some reason he couldn’t say anything sentimental without it coming out as a fucking question, but what-the-fuck-ever. The silence settled between them again and Bakugou wondered if he had said something stupid. The silence was just long enough for him to acknowledge the situation he had currently put himself in. He was laying next to probably his best friend, sharing his feelings, in the dark, after crying probably harder than he ever had before and passing out in said friend’s arms. Who the fuck was he?

Kirishima shimmied his body closer to Katsuki’s, properly resting his head on Bakugou’s shoulder and tossing an arm flippantly across his waist. Bakugou tensed.

“What the fuck, dumb-hair?” he said, again, no venom in his voice. Kirishima’s body felt so good next to his that he didn’t really care what was happening. It sorta felt natural and… safe? But he obviously had to call him out because despite all the horseshit going on, he still didn’t want Kirishima to know how he really felt. He was okay with controlling his shit-for-brains until the dumbass finally spoke and sent butterflies corralling around in his stomach.

“I’m just glad that you’re okay right now because I don’t think I could bear to see you like that again. Damn near broke my heart, Boomy.” It was soft, sweet, and mumbled straight into his neck like a fucking secret.

It took him a very long time, but eventually Bakugou fell victim to the silence and the soft snores coming from the absolute fucking angel cuddled up to his side. It felt like the empty space inside him was a little more full in this moment.

Chapter Text

Both boys woke the next morning just as daylight was approaching. Their waking had been quiet, peaceful, and Bakugou sorta thought he could forget that the previous fucking night had ever happened if he tried hard enough. With few words, they agreed to go on a run together before getting ready for Thursday morning classes.They ran in the cool morning air in comfortable silence. Katsuki grinned over at Kirishima as the red-head panted, trying to keep up with the blonde’s quicker pace. He was thankful for Kirishima’s talent to make things not awkward. Before he knew it, they were in class, going throughout the day as they normally would, and then the day was over as quickly as it had started.

Bakugou returned to his dorm after evening hero training to collapse in his own bed, absolutely exhausted. Something about being overcome with emotions and crying his fucking heart out had taken almost all of his energy away. His body was a battered, empty shell. Much to his dismay, he slept Thursday evening away, all the way into fucking Friday morning, disregarding all of his homework and forgetting to set an alarm. Given his track record over the past few months, it was weird for him to have slept so long.

After a rushed morning of feeling like he was walking through sludge, Friday morning’s classes and even hero training passed by without a hitch. Bakugou was finally finding himself able to concentrate on classes once more, and he felt a little bit better as he unlocked his dorm room door that afternoon. He knew that he had fallen behind in the past couple of weeks that this bullshit had started to surface, so, with a grunt, he started throwing his school books haphazardly on the floor. Throughout the day, he had managed to complete his late maths, physics, and grammar course homework in between classes and at lunch, but he still had goddamn ethical scenarios to deal with.  

“Fucking bullshit,” he mumbled outloud into his empty room. He wanted to burn the shitty book to pieces and use his notes as kindling. He was sprawled out in the middle of his dorm’s floor, papers scattered in chaos around him, when there was a light knock at the door. “Thank the gods,” he muttered as he hopped over his mess to answer the door.

The red-headed boy of his dreams was standing in front of him, looking flustered, holding a maths book up like a shield in front of him. “I can’t understand this stuff and I’m probably going to fail if you don’t help me,” he blurted out.

Bakugou simply turned around and kicked some papers out of the way to make some room for his friend in the floor. “How long have you been sitting over there erasing bullshit off your paper, nerd?” he said, sitting cross legged in front of his ethics book.

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the back of his hair with one hand. “Maybe like an hour?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and held out his hand for the maths book expectantly. Kirishima handed the book over and sat in the previously cleared space. He curiously picked up a piece of paper Bakugou had crumpled up and gingerly flattened it out. Katsuki flipped open the maths book, Kirishima’s paper shoved between the papers, and analyzed the mess that was his homework. He tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He sorta urged them to turn to fucking bats because being pissed off was easier than be smitten .

“Bro, ‘killing them all’ is not a viable option in any scenario. Are you going to fail this class?” The red-head was chuckling.

In almost feigned anger, Bakugou snatched the paper from his hand and cremated it with a small burst of his quirk. “Yeah, and you copied this damn formula down wrong, shitty-hair. Don’t talk to me about failure!” he huffed. “I’ll help you get this shit right if you can just tell me what I’m supposed to write for these goddamn scenarios because burning the whole city down sounds like a better idea at this point.”

After a few hours, the two of them gathered papers and books into respective piles. “Anyone else here?” Bakugou mumbled, dropping his books onto his desk with a thump.

“Nope. I mean Denki and Sero are coming back tomorrow, but I have zero shit to do if you wanted to get a pizza or something?”

“The amount of pizza I eat with you is probably the reason why I’m going to die of a heart attack at a young age, shit-for-brains,” he said dryly.

“Nah, that’ll be caused by your attitude. Or maybe Deku will give you a good punch in the chest some day for teasing him.”


“What do you want on your pizza, Boomy?”

Katsuki stopped midway getting into his bed at the mention of the nickname. It took about a mili-second for his brain to reboot before he could get his legs and arms to move him up against the wall into a sitting position. He made eye contact with Kirishima who simply had two eyebrows raised, awaiting a response. Okay, so he hadn’t noticed the lapse in programming. Good. Why did that nickname have some weird effect on him? He spouted off some random spicy shit before pulling out his phone and busying himself with some bullshit on his screen.

He was willing enough to admit that he had a crush on his friend, but he was trying his hardest not to let it interfere with their comfortable weekend nights and homework sessions. He had succeeded in the past week to act relatively normal, ya know, aside from his mental-fucking-breakdown just two days ago. Who was he fucking kidding? Kirishima was dumb, but eventually the asshole would ask him what was wrong again. Even worse, if Bakugou couldn’t stop staring at the red-head’s perfect lips, he’d probably realize he was staring and be idiotic enough to ask about that, too. Katsuki had to pull himself together, but it was so hard to focus himself on being normal, at least his version of normal, when he was being crowded with so many unintelligible emotions all at once. Did he want to cry over his trauma? Did he want to beat the shit out of something? He wouldn’t even let his mind wonder to the things he could think about doing to Kirishima.



Kirishima had gotten spicy sausage on the pizza and had even ordered Bakugou a side cup of jalapenos as a treat. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the boy knew Katsuki a little better than other people he interacted with. Katsuki couldn’t complain. Feeling super full and comfortable perched in the corner of his bed against the wall, he was starting to doze peacefully as Kirishima played on his phone sitting in his computer chair across the room.

“Hey, bro, you look pretty tanked, so I’m going to head out. Hit me up tomorrow if you’re bored.” Bakugou grunted an agreement and the red-head left, taking the pizza box out with him to dispose of somewhere. For some goddamn reason or another, he was wide awake all of the sudden. It was like Kirishima had left and taken all of the peace out of his soul with him. Then he noticed the quiet. Obnoxious fucking quiet. The kind of quiet that laid over him like a blanket and suffocated him. His room was sort of a little bit of a mess, and the overwhelming sense of being alone was causing his ears to buzz. He scooted to the edge of his bed and tried to focus on his breathing. Could he not be a fucking mess for ten fucking minutes right now?

It wasn’t dark. He was in his dorm, safe. He was safe. All he had to do was take a few deep breaths and lay back down. That’s it. But for some reason he couldn’t move. For some reason he couldn’t breath. Why hadn’t this happened when he was alone yesterday? Why hadn’t he fallen apart after classes? Had he been too exhausted?

His chest heaved and he finally took a deep breath which allowed his legs to move. He was up and out of his dorm room before he could think straight, and then he was pounding aggressively on Kirishima’s door. It was the only logical solution he could come up with in the moment. He needed the asshole to calm him down before he completely lost his shit again.

The red-head answered his door, and Bakugou was too far gone to notice that he was only wearing gym shorts, but put that image in the back of his mind for later use. “I- uh,” he forced out in a growl. He hadn’t even felt the anger at himself boiling up into his chest, but it was there underneath all of the panic. “I don’t know-- FUCK!” he shouted. Kirishima wordlessly pulled him into the room by the elbow of his arm and closed the door.

“Woah, woah, okay, bro, come here,” he said, leading him over to the bed. He pushed Katsuki down by his shoulders to sit down and knelt in front of him. “Look at me, you’re okay. Do we need to go see Dr. Honey?” Katsuki violently shook his head from side to side, swallowing hard to push his tears back down his throat. He was afraid if that lump spilled over it wouldn’t stop this time. He didn’t know what he needed or what would stop him from feeling this way, but he knew he didn’t want to be alone. Alone left him fucking vulnerable.

“I just- don’t know if I can- Can I just fucking stay with you again?” he blurted out. It was anger that presented itself in his words. That was about all he could do. Kirishima’s eyebrows had worked themselves into a furrow as if he was concerned but also relieved at the final partial explanation. He wordlessly got up from his kneeling position and went to turn the light off.

“NO!” Katsuki exclaimed without warning. Kirishima’s hand paused over the switch. “I can’t be in the dark, shitty-hair.” He mumbled out. Kirishima simply nodded, leaving the light on, and he crossed the room to crawl into bed behind Katsuki’s trembling form. With a soft hand ( fuck, how are his hands so soft when the fucker has a hardening quirk), Kirishima led Bakugou’s body down onto the bed like he had the other night.

Slowly, he could feel himself coming back to Earth in the red-head’s warm embrace. “I’m sorry… again,” he mumbled. Kirishima chuckled and Bakugou turned around in one swift movement, full offense on his face. “What shitty-hair?! You gunna make fun of me now?”

“No, no,” he managed through giggles, a fucking beautiful, full smile on his face. “I just can’t get over Katsuki Bakugou apologizing to me three times in one week. I should probably be worried, but you can’t blame a guy for basking in the moment.”

Katsuki felt a smile creep over his own lips, shit was contagious, and he chuckled with the red-head. “I mean, yeah, I guess it’s pretty fucking weird, hah?”

Their laughs died down after that and their closeness and Kirishima’s partial nakedness dawned on the blonde very quickly. It hadn’t really occurred to him, not that he could have managed to have coherent thoughts after his breakdown the other night, that the bed was so small. They were really smooshed together, bodies maybe an inch apart and faces so close that Bakugou could feel Kirishima’s hot breath against his nose. It was much like that one morning that he had caught the dumbass asleep in his bed. Bakugou found himself staring unabashedly at how sweet, soft, and fucking angelic the bastard was. If he was being honest with himself, and we already know that he rarely is, it seemed as though Kirishima was staring at Bakugou with the same lustful look in his eyes. Crimson eyes met crimson eyes and then they both quickly averted them. If this were a girl, or really anyone else but Kirishima, he would have already taken what he wanted from them and moved on. He would have smashed their mouths together the instant he thought about it. But this was his red-haired, dude-bro, best friend who definitely couldn’t be gay… or bi… or anything but straight and masculine. Could he?

It was Kirishima who broke the silence, clearing his throat before speaking. It jerked Kastuki right out of his spiraling thoughts. Kirishima’s voice was almost a whisper. “Seriously, dude, are you going to be okay?”

Katsuki fought the normal rise of anger down and met Kirishima’s eyes again, seriously. “I don’t know, really. Dr. fucking Honey has me talking about all the shit that went down with the villians and I think my brain is malfunctioning. It's like being alone with my thoughts triggers some weird panic shit that I can’t control.” Honestly, he was surprised by his own ability to string that many sentences together about feelings in their current predicament.

Kirishima was swallowing hard, almost audibly. When he finally replied, his voice was rugged and sent a shudder down Katsuki’s body and deep into the pit of his stomach. “If there’s anything I can do, you can always tell me. And I’ll- I’ll listen with no judgement if you ever think you can talk to me.”

Chapter Text

Gods be damned, Kirishima wanted to kiss him. Had anyone gotten the chance to be this close to Katsuki Bakugou and manage to not feel the urge to kiss him? He had to fight tooth and nail to swallow, no literally swallow , his emotions so that he could somehow be a supportive friend. But that task was getting more difficult by the second with Bakugou, all hard angles and blood-red eyes, laying inches from his face. He muttered out as much supportive jargon as he could, hoping that somehow the sentence made sense, and then licked his lips unconsciously. He pulled his gaze back up and forced eye contact again, heart pounding in his naked chest. Would the boy burn him to death if he even attempted to close the small distance between them? He figured that he would because there was no way that Bakugou could be that intimate with someone, and who was Kirishima kidding? If he was intimate with someone, why would he be that way with his dumbass?

They laid face-to-face for what seemed like an hour. Kirishima felt that the tension could be cut with a knife, but he didn’t want to move and break the literal stare down they were having. Bakugou’s eyes met his many times in the time that they laid there, and it looked like his crimson eyes were searching for something deep in Kirishima’s soul. YES, he wanted to scream, Yes, bro! I’m totally gay for you. Please, please put me out of this misery and use this vulnerability you have to just let go for a minute!

He felt like he might throw up from the butterflies in his stomach, and if nothing else alerted Bakugou to his inner turmoil, the breathing hitching in his chest whenever their eyes met eventually would. The evidence really was there, if Kirishima thought hard enough, that deep inside the explodey man might feel the same way. Why else would he come to him when he was on the verge of panic? Why else would they be lying there staring into each other’s eyes awkwardly for what seemed like an eternity?

A growl suddenly rumbled up in the boy next to him, and Kirishima barely heard a rugged, “ Oh, fuck this ,” come out of Bakugou’s lips like a snarl before he was leaning over him haphazardly, Kirishima’s back pressed into the bed. Bakugou was towering over him, all anger and power, laying on his side with one leg hitched over Kirishima’s waist. The blonde’s face was maybe centimeters away and the red-head stared wide eyed up at his sudden aggression. He willed his body to abort the fucking mission as he felt the lust lunge deep into his groin area. Bakugou looked like he was going to devour him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of what was happening, and he damn sure wasn’t going to let his body respond that quickly to something that might not even be sexual. Maybe Bakugou was finally going to murder him for cuddling him so much recently?

“Tell me,” the blonde spit out in a ragged breath, “Tell me, that I can kiss you, Eijiro.”

Kirishima’s heart stuttered at his first name coming out of Bakugou’s mouth. It sounded like sin , and although it took all of the courage that he had in himself to do so, he was the one who closed the small distance between their lips.

And then it was over for the both of them. Teeth raked against teeth, hands pulled at clothes or clawed at skin and hair. They were instantly lost in each other’s kiss. Bakugou was all rough edges and all but demanded Kirishima’s body to respond to every ministration that he performed with his lips. It wasn’t like Kirishima really had a choice. It was by far the roughest, most manly, incredible kiss he had had in his life. Kirishima made a noise deep in his throat when Bakugou climbed fully on top of him and rested his arms, elbow down, on either side of his head. Their hips coming together and the jolt of electricity that shot through his body was enough to sober him for a milli-second to question: What the fuck were they doing? Was Bakugou emotionally rational enough to make this sort of decision right now?

It took every ounce of control in his being, but he gently pushed at Bakugou’s shoulders to break the kiss. Bakugou’s eyes were lidded, crimson barely visible around dilated pupils, and Kirishima had to swallow a few times, catching his breath. He couldn’t get words to come out, but they had to. He had to make sure this was okay and it wasn’t just some weird defense mechanism that therapy was bringing out of Bakugou.  

“I’m no expert, dumb-hair, but I’d say that it seemed you were enjoying yourself,” he said seriously, eyes searching. “Why’d you make me stop?” He kissed the edge of Kirishima’s mouth softly and continued to make eye contact. How was he so calm and okay right now?

Kirishima found his words, but they came out breathless and his voice cracked in the process. “I want this,” he blurted out. “I-I was, I just… I don’t want to take advantage of you in the state that you’re in.” It was only a partial truth. He could honestly barely wrap his head around what was happening and felt like he was going to spin right out of existence if Bakugou kept this up.

The blonde only rolled his eyes and leaned his mouth down to almost touch his ear. In a harsh whisper he said, “Does it really feel to you like you’re the one taking advantage of me , here, Kirishima?” he said, grinding his obvious growing erection once into Kirishima’s own and making the breath hitch up in his throat once again. “I’d say it’s pretty fucking obvious that I know what I’m doing, and something tells me that you wouldn’t complain if just had my way with you right now.”

Kirishima felt light-headed, ferociously turned on, and anxious all at once. Okay, yeah, this is happening. He’s okay, I’m okay, and this is all I’ve ever wanted, he decided quietly. He slid both hands up Bakugou’s back, all the way up into his hair, entangling his fingers there. It was a slow, hesitant, and agonizing movement, and the blonde growled animalistically as he turned and took Kirishima’s mouth into another, rough kiss. Their bodies were pressed flush together, hips to hips, chest to chest, lips to lips, as they got lost in each other once more. At some point, Katsuki started to grind his hips into Kirishima’s in an even, purposeful rhythm. Of course Bakugou would be absolutely fantastic at dry-humping along with everything else in his life.

Kirishima’s favorite part were the noises that caught between their kisses. “Fuck, feels so good, Kirishima,” Bakugou would mumble (or growl, whatever that beautiful gutteral noise was) against his lips. Kirishima could only shudder and moan pathetically back.

Thank the Gods that they were both wearing gym shorts because the thin pieces of fabric between them was almost too much to bare. There was no stopping to take off clothes, there was no worrying about the mess that they would undoubtedly make; it was just them and the noises and the kisses and feeling of sparks flying. Kirishima could tell that Bakugou was well endowed, another check-mark on the of course he’s the best checklist. He loved the way that Bakugou’s thick erection slid against his own perfectly with every grind of the blonde’s hips. It was like he knew exactly what was needed to drive Kirishima crazy, and he didn’t falter or change pace at all. It was steady, agonizing, and incredible, and it left Kirishima’s head spinning and reeling. At some point, the red-head had gotten brave enough, or out of his mind enough, to put his hands on Katsuki’s hips and help with the friction between them. The whole ordeal was frantic, like the both of them had waited their whole lives just to rut against each other mindlessly. Bakugou mindlessly grasped at Kirishima's spiky red hair, the proximity to his hands only making sense.

Without warning, Kirishima felt his orgasm begin to build and he knew that he was about to embarrass himself and cum in his shorts. “Katsuki,” he mumbled, relishing in the way that the boy shuddered against him at the mention of his full name. “Feels too good. ‘m getting close,” he managed breathlessly.  

“Shit, me too,” Bakugou huffed out. He stopped kissing him and buried his face in Kirishima’s neck, which only drove Kirishima closer. His fingers dug into the boy’s hips as he helped to grind him harder into his erection. “Oh, fuck, oh gods, Eijiro, oh shit,” Bakugou gasped desperately against his neck. There it was again, that absolutely sinful sound of his name, and that’s all it took.

“Kats--” was all he managed before he felt himself tip over the edge, spilling cum into his underwear and shorts. It seemed like Bakugou finished almost at the same time as his hips stuttered their rhythmic movements and slowed to a softer grinding motion. Beside his head, he felt Bakugou release his hair, and then he could hear popping noises as literal sparks flew out of Bakugou’s hands, his quirk inadvertently activating in his pleasure.

Chapter Text

"Oi," mumbled Bakugou sometime later. He had collapsed beside Kirishima wordlessly after their encounter and had been trying to will his head to stop spinning. He was still partially on top of the spiky-haired freak, and his face was still against his neck. "I need a fucking shower, rock-boy. Shit feels gross."

He planted a kiss against Kirishima collar bone and reeled at the fact that he could even fucking do that. This all had to be some weird wet dream because there was no way this was happening. How did he handle the fact that he had just… rutted up against his best friend's cock to completion? On what planet was that a normal occurrence?

"No one's stopping you, Boomy," Kirishima said, nuzzling gently into his hair. Fuck , he could get used to this feeling and that nickname. What had even happened back there? He guesses it was the torture of close proximity or maybe it was the pleading way Kirishima had looked at him. It was pleading, right? He had wanted this, right? Of course he wanted it, Bakugou told himself, did you not hear the noises he was making?

Bakugou reluctantly pushed himself away from the warm bed and into a standing position. He grimaced at the sticky feeling between his legs. "Hey, dumbass, you're gunna hate yourself in the morning if you don't at least change clothes. Get the fuck up." He popped a few tiny explosions in his hand right by his ear. The red-head's eyes opened, but he didn't move. Bakugou shrugged and walked towards the door to go grab his shower stuff from his dorm.

"That's fine. Guess you didn't wanna see this fine ass all hot and wet after our weird sexual encounter anyway," he ventured a tease. As the door closed behind him, he could see Kirishima scrambling out of bed.



After Bakugou's teasing, they had actually showered in separate stalls and remained quiet until they were both standing in front of the shared mirror and sink area, partially dressed in more gym shorts, towel drying their hair.

"So," Kirishima started, looking too hard at some soap scum on the sink in front of him. "Are we uh, are we good, bro?"

Bakugou scoffed. "Do we really have to talk about us dry humping each other into a frenzy earlier?" He dropped his voice, pleased at the venom coming back. He sorta felt like himself again. The red-head's forehead wrinkled in concern. Bakugou could tell that wasn't really the answer he was looking for, so he tried again. He put his hand on Kirishima bare shoulder and looked seriously into burning crimson. "Yes, bro , we are fine. We don't have to analyze whatever happened because that's not what we do… like ever, about anything. So, why start now?" he all but pleaded. He didn't want to analyze it because he was pretty sure it was just sexual and he didn't feel like having his heart ripped open would help at this very moment. It was a spur of the moment, loss of control, and if Katsuki thought too hard about it, he might explode. He got closer to Kirishima's face and earned a cute little red hue across the tops of his cheeks as he spoke once again.

"I very much enjoyed whatever that was, and we can do it again, or never ever again. We can let whatever happens, happen," he finished matter-of-factly. But please, gods, let it happen again.

Kirishima nodded eagerly, a sideways grin appearing on his lips, showing pointy teeth. As Bakugou turned to leave the showers, he heard, “Are you still staying the night?”

He grinned and pulled the door open and called softly over his shoulder, “After I put this shit up, I’ll be there.”



Getting comfortable on the small bed was a little more difficult when Bakugou wasn’t emotionally inebriated, but they managed. Bakugou wouldn’t rest until Kirishima agreed to be the little spoon for once. He was feeling more like himself and he’d be damned if he were made to feel vulnerable again.

It backfired on him though because how the fuck was he supposed to fall asleep with Kirishima’s hard, perfect body pressed against him? He smelled like sweet cinnamon candy when Bakugou pressed his lips to the back of Kirishima’s neck, and the fucker cooed softly when he did that, wiggling a little to get impossibly closer to the blonde’s body. It was almost awkward, just being so close to him when they’d only recently crossed this line in their friendship, but it also felt… right? The way that Kirishima’s body fit like a puzzle piece into Bakugou’s in this position felt as if the universe had made them just for each other. Bakugou could really get used to the smell of cinnamon candy before bed.

Eventually, Katsuki had fallen asleep, and when he woke, he and Kirishima were a heap in the bed, all tangled limbs and messy sheets. Kirishima was laying on his chest again, and Bakguo was splayed out like he normally would be. The sun was barely visible outside, and he knew he should try and sleep more, but he was wide awake. Kirishima was snoring softly, mouth slightly ajar and hair smooshed down on his head more than usual. He was so fucking beautiful and it almost hurt Katsuki to look at him. He just couldn’t get over how angelic his features were and how right it felt to wake up next to him.

It was then that he finally noticed that his arm was under Kirishima, his fingers splayed across his shoulder blade. He hadn’t noticed sooner because his arm was fucking numb. He was definitely going to have to move soon. “Kiri,” he said, voice barely higher than a whisper. The red-head stirred only slightly, closing his mouth mid snore. Bakugou felt a sideways grin creep across his face. “Oi, dumb-hair,” he said a little louder. Kirishima all but jerked awake at that point and blinked confusedly at Bakugou. He looked for a second like he had forgotten who was in his bed, and then he nuzzled back down into the blonde’s chest with a wrinkled forehead.

“Don’t wanna wake up, Boomy,” he whined softly.

“Well,” he began to pull his arm gently as he spoke. “You don’t have to wake up, but you have to get the fuck off of my arm before it falls off.”

“Fiiiiine,” he groaned, and turned back towards the wall.

Bakugou turned, too, but hesitated before he just wrapped Kirishima in his arms again. “Is this shit okay with you? Like… the cuddling or whatever? Does it freak you out?”

Kirishima spoke into the wall, muffled. “I… really like it. Like a lot.” He let out a breath and then, “Is that weird?”

Katsuki gave in to whatever instinct was telling him to just wrap the boy up and hold him forever, and pulled Kirishima by the hips back towards him. He curled his legs up behind the red-head’s ass to put every puzzle piece in its proper spot. “Not at all,” he purred against the back of his neck. Shit, this boy brought out every bit of fucking sap or whatever he had in his body. It was like he couldn’t stop himself from treating him like… like… a boyfriend. For some reason even thinking that word startled him enough to hitch his breath and turn his guts over. Could Katsuki even have a boyfriend? He wasn’t really sure of his sexuality at this point; all he knew is that he probably had the best orgasm of his life through his fucking shorts pressed up against his best friend.  

As if reading his mind, Kirishima wiggled his ass a little against Bakugou’s crotch, feigning that he was just adjusting his position, but he was smarter than that. The little shit was trying to make him pop a boner against his ass. There’s no way that wasn’t a very purposeful wiggle. Bakugou smirked and pressed his lips to the back of the boy’s neck, taking in his cinnamon smell once again. Kirishima hummed in approval, and pulled the arm Katsuki had draped around him closer to his body.

“I thought you weren’t ready to wake up yet, dumb-hair,” he mumbled, placing another kiss closer to his hair this time.

“‘M not awake. ‘M still sleepy,” he mumbled, wiggling once again. Bakugou couldn’t fucking handle the way his ass just perfectly brushed against his cock in his shorts. He could feel himself growing harder just from their situation.

“Well,” he said gruffly, moving his legs to adjust himself to account for the growth in his shorts, “if you don’t stop that shit, you’re going to make my dick hard.” He was matter-of-fact and he felt Kirishima tense with his words. He should know that nothing about Katsuki Bakugou was subtle, so why would he act like it was now?

Kirishima was quiet for a little while, and Bakugou actually thought that he had threatened the boy back to sleep. He was sort of drifting off again himself when he felt that same damn wiggle, more purposeful this time. He opened his eyes and smirked again. If that’s how he was going to play it then…

Bakugou slid his hand down Kirishima’s sides as gently as the rough boy could muster, and teased his fingers at the hem of his shorts. He placed a kiss closer to the side of Kirishima’s neck this time, leaning himself up on one arm. "You feel really fucking good, Ei," he muttered against the boy's skin, grinning as he earned another, very purposeful wiggle of his ass against Katsuki's now fully hard cock. Emotions akin to anger flooded him, but he recognized them as arousal and primal urge deep in the pit of his stomach. This boy was seriously going to be the death of him. In what felt like an instant, he pulled the red-head over on his back and was leaning over him, much like the night before.

“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” he growled against Kirishima’s lips, barely brushing against them. He wasn't kissing him, just hovering so very fucking close. His hand snaked down the boy’s toned chest, and the shudder that slid down his body made Katsuki snarl as a wave of pure fucking sexual need came over him all at once. He reached the top hem of the gyms shorts and he could feel Kirishima’s breath hot and fast against his face. He paused, slightly concerned. He dared to open his eyes and was met with an almost fearful look. He backed off immediately and brought his hand back up to safer territory, heart hammering in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Kiri, was that too much?” he croaked out. His voice was really having issues between trying to be caring, incredibly turned on, and hurt all at once. He looked almost scared of Katsuki.  The sentence had almost came out as a taunt, but Bakugou was trying really hard to be a normal fucking human being and not be turned on by the fact that he had put the little shit in his place. He also had to fight a small voice in the back of his head that told him Kirishima was actually scared of him.

Kirishima’s eyes, if it were possible, got even wider as he shook his head fervently. “No, no,” his voice cracked on the second ‘no’ and he had to clear his throat. “I just-- I guess I’m just overwhelmed by the situation is all?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

"I was, trying to tease you, I mean." Katsuki could swear his face was the same color as his hair. "I just didn't expect you to almost shove your hand down my pants, and I've kinda never done that with anyone before." The last words came out rushed and soft with his embarrassment.

Katsuki scoffed and fought the urge to roll his eyes. He sat up on the edge of Kirishima's bed in one swift motion and put his head in his hands. He actually was afraid, and Katsuki had managed to overwhelm him very quickly by not controlling his urges. He was pissed at himself for being so fucking stupid. When he spoke, he hated the venom in his voice, but he couldn't stop it either. "And you think I've ever touched someone else's cock before, shit-for-brains? How the fuck do you want me to react when you rub your goddamn ass against me like that?"

Kirishima was silent behind him, and Katsuki could tell he'd struck a little nerve somewhere. "I was just trying to be playful, Boomy." He sounded defeated. And that fucking nickname, goddamnit. He sounded fucking defeated and sad and this whole fucking thing was just a big mistake. Who was Katsuki kidding to think that he, of all people, could have feelings like a normal person? Who was he kidding to think he was even capable of having a boyfriend ? He was a fucking idiot for even letting the thought cross his mind. He couldn't be this close to someone and cuddle with them or feel this good without at least fucking one thing or another up. He gritted his teeth and stood up, not able to stop himself from speaking.  

"I'll see you later, shitty-hair. I've got shit to do." And with that, he left a stunned, sad, maybe even hurt Kirishima behind and walked out the door. It closed and he was left outside in the hall with all the fucking silence. It was better to get out and show him who he really was. Fucked up, is who he was. Fucked up, unlovable, and above all else a shitty friend.

Chapter Text

The last two weeks of Katsuki Bakugou's life could only be described as complete and total hell. He surfed through the days, mindless and generally annoyed at everything and everyone, which was pretty fucking normal for him. On the outside, he was acting pretty fucking normal as far as he could tell, really. But on the inside, he was fighting a constant battle. He told himself off at least five times a day, analyzed every insignificant move he made, and even trash talked his fighting during hero training at school. Inside he was a goddamn mess, dark and swampy, but no one could tell the fucking difference because he was was so goddamn bitter on the outside anyway, so why would anyone question him now? 

His grades were perfect. His physical fighting was getting better thanks to the unfathomable mental beatings he gave himself after every hero training class. By day he was Katsuki Bakugou, slowly rising ranks to be UA's top first year student. By night, he was tossing and turning, staring at every shadow in his room for far too long, dozing off only to jerk awake at any dorm hall noise. About the only things visibly wrong to any outsiders would be the deep, dark circles under his eyes, or the increasing hollow of his cheeks. He made sure he ate enough to keep up his health with all of the physical demands in his school shit, but otherwise he just didn't have an appetite. Everything was so fucking pointless without Kirishima’s happy ass around to bug him about being okay.

"Kacchan, are you okay?" He stopped scribbling angry circles on his notebook to glance, maybe a little too eagerly at the source of the voice. Of course it was fucking Deku. Of course he'd be the first one to say something. Of course no one else would even care to notice his bullshit just emanating from all orifices. He fought at a soft, throbbing pain deep in his stomach at the thought that no one else really fucking cared to ask him. That pain quickly turned to anger, though, because on top of everything else, most of class 1-A, including the red-haired freak, had yet to leave the classroom for lunch when he'd asked it. 

"None of your goddamn business, nerd," he bit back, without even making eye contact. He could feel Deku roll his eyes beside him. He could see the visible tense in Kirishima's shoulders a few seats ahead of him. He could feel the worry emanating off of at least four people in the room, and it pissed him the fuck off. 

"Its none of any of you extra's fucking business!" He punctuated his sentence by sliding loudly and viciously out of his desk chair, books and papers falling into the floor with the force of it. "I'll rip any one of you a new fucking asshole if you so much as look at me the wrong way, got it?!" He screamed, looking around. Kirishima didn't move a muscle or even turn to look at his outburst. He could almost feel tears stinging his eyes. Almost.

And then he was out of the classroom and storming down the hallway to the boy's bathroom. People were parting away from him to the sides, pushing themselves up against lockers. His face was probably a force to be reckoned with. He couldn't stand the goddamn pity or fear in their eyes and he couldn't stand the flinch in the shoulders of the only person to ever stick by his side. Until now.

Well, if he were being honest with himself, and he never ever was , he knew that wasn't true. Kirishima had knocked on his door, texted, called, even braved the scowl on his face to come up to him in the hallway. Kirishima was trying, Gods, was the dumbass trying, to be his friend, but Bakugou couldn't stomach it. In his head he was the scum of the fucking Earth, and anything associating with him was just gunna get scum on it. Gods forbid that beautiful creature be tainted with his bullshit anymore. He’d hurt him once, he wasn’t going to do it again.

It took the first week for shitty-hair to give up and stop bothering him, but when he did, Bakugo couldn't blame him. Their last conversation had ended with Katsuki screaming, "Leave me the fuck alone, jackass!" into his phone before hanging up. He had really fucked up this time, and he was beyond trying to fix it. Shit, he didn’t even know how to fix it. So, he had just buried himself in the one thing he was at least decent at: school. He didn't go to any more appointments with Dr. Honey; without Kirishima to worry about, he didn't really have a reason to be a better person to those around him. 

He took a piss and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at the ghost in the mirror for a long time, sizing up his dark circles and prominent cheekbones. He looked like fucking All Might at this point. Whatever.  

He muttered, pussy , at his hollowed out face and then trudged his way back to the hellhole of a classroom. The room was silent as he picked up his papers and book and sat down right as the bell signaled the start of evening classes.

His undoing was really his own fucking fault. If he could have handled his emotions better instead of reacting with anger at the absolute worst time ever, he might not be in this situation. He just couldn't stand the fear he'd saw written all over Kirishima's face, and it reminded him of every shit thing he'd ever done and then some. He could only imagine the issues he’d caused Kirishima by trying to seduce him and reacting in anger when the poor kid had asked him to slow down. That was really all he’d asked, right? To slow the fuck down. But then again, nothing about Katsuki Bakugou screamed subtle, slow, or gentle by any means. 

After class, he skipped the rest of his bullshit routine and went to his room. It was basically trashed and had become a tomb for him to monologue about his failures of the day, but at least no one would fucking bother him. Snack wrappers and water bottles riddled the floor, mixed with his dirty clothes. The space under his bed and failed at containing the mess earlier in the week, so now he settled for merely a small path to walk through to his bed, his closet, and his desk. Everyday, he followed a strict schedule: run, breakfast, class, dinner, gym, shower, homework, brooding, shitty sleep. It was nice to have a routine that wasn't riddled with stupid distractions anymore. Or at least he could tell himself that if he stayed busy enough. 

Besides, everyone had really commended him for his rise in the ranks so quickly throughout the past two weeks, and he was happy about that… or at least moderately pleased. 

He could tell that this night was going to be a particularly gruesome one by the feeling deep in his gut. It was that empty one that had caused him to breakdown that first night with his friend. It was one that he had quickly grown accustomed to after he stormed out of Kirishima’s room that day. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to dive into bed and drift off to sleep, but of course his fucking brain wasn’t having that bullshit. He aimlessly shuffled around pillows and blankets, muttering expletives maybe a little too loud. This was probably fucking pointless. 

He huffed and slammed his head down into the freshly flipped, cold pillow. And then his stomach dropped, his world stopped, his head spun, whatever fucking phrase made sense here. He could smell cinnamon. Kirishima's smell. A smell he hadn't really realized he'd grown to probably love until it was gone all too suddenly from his life. Inexplicably, before he could even stop to think of any memories associated with that smell, comfort washed over him, and he fell into a deep sleep.  


His dreams were a mix between awful and amazing. In one he was laying next to Kirishima and the red-head was smiling, full set of sharp teeth visible and shining. In another he was staring down at Kirishima and his face was twisted into a sob. He was in the middle of a particularly happy one where he and Kirishima were wrestling around his nicely cleaned room when a loud booming noise erupted into his small space. He blinked at the sun streaming through a crack in his curtain. 

“Bakugou, open up, it’s Aizawa,” came the all too bored voice from the other side of his door. His heart raced and he all but fell out of his bed. What was happening? Were there villians attacking the school again? What other reason would his teacher have for knocking on his door at what he could only assume to be early morning hours? He rushed to open the door, stumbling over trash as he did so.

“What? What’s wrong?” he said breathless, probably a sight to behold with his eyes all wide and hair flying every which way from his sleep.

“Do you know what time it is, you idiot?”

“What? No, I--” he started to stutter out, feeling a sinking in his stomach. Oh, fuck.

“It’s 2pm, Bakugou. Put on some clothes, we’ve got somewhere to be,” the man said dryly. Katsuki couldn’t tell if he was pissed or concerned or even awake. That didn’t stop him from protesting, though, as panic rose up from his sunken gut.

“It’s 2pm?! Aizawa, I can explain. I--”

“Bakugou, I’ll drag you out of there in your boxers if you don’t put on some damn clothes,” he responded, voice ever-steady. Yeah, he was definitely pissed. 

Bakugou closed his door and slid pants haphazardly over his gym shorts and a t-shirt over his tank top. How could he be so stupid? How could he not set a fucking alarm? Good going, dumbass, now Aizawa is knocking at your door and you’re a whole day behind on studies. He mentally berated himself as he ran his fingers through his hair. Grabbing his keys, wallet, and phone (which was fucking dead), he took a deep breath and opened his door to face whatever hell he’d gotten himself into now.

Chapter Text

“I swear to the gods, I’ll kick that explosion fucker’s ass,” whined Mina, petting Kirishima’s red hair. She wore a cute pout across her face, but her hands were trembling in anger.

“No,” he croaked, “No, Mins, you won’t.” He promptly sat up and wiped the wetness from his face. “You won’t because this is partially my fault.” 

They were sitting on Mina’s bed, surrounded by pink, and green, and fluff, and Kirishima really felt like he was going to throw up. Normally he could take Bakugou’s bullshit, but he really thought they were getting passed all of the explosive anger with each other. Then, not even 10 minutes ago, he had stormed out of his room just because Kirishima was a little bit apprehensive about taking things another step further. Also, for some reason, this fight actually hurt like hell. Maybe it was the fact that he really was head-over-heels for the asshole, or maybe it was just that he’d seemed… more pissed off than usual. 

Mina was grabbing Kirishima’s face with both hands and looking at him very seriously. “I will kick your ass, too if you don’t stop talking like that. He had no right to react that way to a little doubt. Hell, neither of you are sure what’s going on right now, so obviously it’s okay to be a little careful with your teenage hormones. Bakugou can’t even admit to himself that he likes you, so he really has no right to be mad.” She ran her hand through his spikey red hair a few times and then wiped a fresh tear from his cheek. 

“Mina, I was the one who was being too much,” he said seriously. That one set her off.

“BUTT WIGGLES ARE NOT PERMISSION TO FULL ON RAVAGE YOU, KIRISHIMA!” she yelled, standing up in her fit of anger. She started to pace and Kirishima couldn’t help the chuckle that rose in his throat at how quickly she could turn into a pink stick of dynamite. 

He couldn’t really argue with her logic, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He knew that he and Bakugou had messed up something that had potential to be really good, and he knew that Bakugou, as awful as he felt right now, was going to take this a lot harder than he was. 

“Icecream!” Mina had stopped mid stride to shout her epiphany, arm extended and fist in the air. “We need icecream. Come on, lets go get Denki and Sero and blow this joint.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him off the bed. He really wasn’t going to win any battle with her sounding like that, so he just let himself be pulled. Who knew, maybe Bakugou would knock on his door later to apologize or to cuss him out or something? 


A week had passed and Kirishima was feeling more and more distraught. Sure, he had Denki, Mina, and Sero to keep him busy and to talk shit like, “Forget that asshole!” But at the end of every day, he was still coming back to his dorm room every night, still right beside Bakugou’s room, still hearing him toss and turn at all hours on the other side of their shared wall. Kirishima had watched him from a distance as he buried himself in school work and training. He watched as the vibrant blonde hair faded to lackluster, and he watched as the light behind his crimson eyes slowly died. No doubt, he was taking this harder than Kirishima. 

But if Kirishima were honest, he felt like a hole had been ripped in his gut that he couldn’t fill with anything. While he could tell that Bakugou had nearly stopped eating, Kirishima couldn’t stop. While he knew that Bakugou hadn’t slept a wink really in the past two weeks, he had crashed into bed every night feeling overwhelmed and utterly exhausted. Plus, if he went to bed fast enough, he wouldn’t have to hear Bakugou toss and turn and curse throughout the night on the other side of his very thin wall. 

He couldn’t concentrate on school, his abnormal eating habits were throwing off his training, and he walked around every day feeling like a zombie. Mina had told him two or three times that his sunshine was gone, and really, she couldn’t be more right. He was lost without that angry, flaming bastard. Which is why he had spent the first week texting, calling, and pounding on his door. 


Kiri: Hey

Kiri: boomy, i’m sorry, can we just talk?

Kiri: or maybe we don’t talk, we just sit beside each other and brood?

Kiri: Bakugou please. I’m really worried 

Kiri: i didn’t mean to please


The blonde had changed up his schedule a lot, so at first, Kirishima just attributed his absence to that, but by the Thursday of the first week, he had to admit to himself that he was being ignored. Somewhere in the second week, his hurt switched turned to anger and his hopeful demeanor about the whole situation was basically non-existent. He mindlessly wandered through his days, being pulled at the hand by Mina. She wanted to surround him with his friends because she knew he had the tendency to seclude. 

When Bakugou had his outburst in the 1-A classroom, he told himself he flinched because he was startled by the volume of his voice, but deep down he knew it was because a little bit more of his heart broke. They hadn't really been in the same room with each other other than classes since their 'fight,' and Bakugou wasn't really the type to speak up in class. So, when Kirishima heard his broken down, devastated, and rugged voice, it all but shattered his heart all over again. He'd zoned out for the entire day afterwards, unable to get the awful sound out of his head. Why couldn't he have just stayed still and enjoyed the feel of Bakugou's body against his? Why'd he have to let himself get too greedy, too carried away? 

Later that night, he was laid across Mina's lap while Kaminari and Sero played video games. Mina idly twisted pieces of his spiky red hair around her fingers and fussed at him about re-dyeing it soon because his dark roots were coming out. He was as relaxed as he could probably be with the scene from earlier still playing on a loop in his head.

“Awww, damn, Denk, did you really have to do that? I was in 1st place for so long!” Sero said, and Kirishima could hear the pout on his lips without looking. 

“Fuck yeah, tape-boy. Blue shell it up. Ain’t my fault you’re not good enough to catch back up,” taunted Denki. 

“You’re going to catch these hands if you don’t stop talking shit, bro,” Sero said, putting down his controller and cracking his knuckles. 

“Boys!” Mina raised her voice in warning at their bickering, and Kirishima grinned up at her. “You wipe that goofy grin off your face, too, rocky,” she scrunched her nose at him. “If you don’t see a hair stylist soon, I’m going to do it, and it’ll be pink, not red.” 

Kirishima relished in the comfort of his friends, the feel of Mina fretting over him and playing with his hair, and the general normalcy of it all. In that moment, despite the dark little tendrils of dread in his stomach that he couldn’t really explain, he thought, just maybe, he might be able to live without the angsty boom boy. 

He asked Mina to stay with him that night so that maybe he could keep the feeling of comfort going. They fought over an extra pillow before bed. Mina claimed it was the fluffiest. Kirishima didn’t have the heart to tell her it was the last one that smelled of Bakugou from his bed. He fell asleep breathing in the faintest smell of campfire smoke and lilac. 


The next morning was average enough. He actually did need a hair appointment, he could tell as he spiked his hair before classes. Mina trucked him down early to eat breakfast, and they walked to class with Sero and Kaminari in tow. His own little squad of happiness. 

And then class started, a murmur went around as the first bell rang and Bakugou’s desk was empty. Kirishima bit his lip and tried to calm the bile rising in his throat. He was pretty sure the blonde had never missed a day of class in his life. Endless possibilities swam around in his head. He glanced back at Mina and she curtly shook her head as if to say, “Don’t worry about that bastard,” but it was too late. He was worried. 

After the lunch bell rang, he found Aizawa in the hallway, hating himself for the desperation in his voice. Are we still doing this broken heart thing, Kiri?

“Uhm, Aizawa-sensei?”

Aizawa turned to stare back at him, bored look in his eyes, but he didn’t answer. 

“Uhm, I was just wondering if you had heard anything about where, uh, where Bakugou was today?”

“No,” he said dryly. “Do you know where he is?”

“Well, uh, no. But,” he brushed his hand up the back of his neck in apprehension, “I’m really worried about him?” And then the flood gates opened, and Kirishima couldn’t stop as he basically unraveled very quickly in front of his teacher. Tears pricked his eyes, and he had to bite his bottom lip very hard to keep from crying between words. “We sort of had a falling out, and-- Well, it's very unlike him to miss class-- Uhm, he’s been training super hard and I have this feeling he’s not doing it appropriately. He saw, uhm, Dr. Honey a few weeks ago because he’s been… having… Well, Bakugou hasn’t really been himself and I really think you should check on him.” Kirishima heaved a breath after his small outburst. He could taste blood. 

Aizawa’s brow creased with worry and he turned on one heel to walk fairly quickly down the hallway. He didn’t say anything. Kirishima could only hope that he was going to find that damn asshole and help him out of this dark hole he’d put himself in.

Chapter Text

Bakugou was lead with Aizawa’s hand planted firmly on his shoulder all the way to Dr. Honey’s office. He didn’t lecture, he didn’t even speak; they just walked quietly side by side. By the time they arrived, the pit in his stomach had turned to anger and he was all but growling under his breath. Aizawa had to cancel his quirk for fear that he might actually burn the building to the ground, and he wasn’t too far from the truth. He was infuriated at himself, at the situation, at the thought of being so shitty that he had literally missed the first day of class he’d ever missed in his life. He hadn’t meant to sleep for so long, but his dumbass should have known to set an alarm before he even put his head down. 

If his friends ever found out he’d simply overslept, he’d probably not live it down. Save for Kirishima’s ass who would probably tell him one mistake wasn’t the end of the world. Or he would if Bakugou was actually friends with him anymore. Gods, he missed Kirishima. 

After Aizawa led him to the leather couch, firmly pushing him down by the shoulder, he nodded towards the door to motion Dr. Honey outside the big oak door. Katsuki didn’t like that they were outside talking about him; he didn’t like being here in general. This was where the source of his problems started. Why would he even want to see this fucker? Dr. Honey returned not even a minute later with furrowed eyebrows. Bakugou crossed his legs and his arms up on the leather couch and stared down at the ugly carpet in the room. He didn’t want this. 

“So, Aizawa tells me you missed class today, unannounced. He says that you’ve also been very encased in your school work for the past two weeks, maybe too encased.” Boy, he really didn’t miss this fucker’s mickey mouse voice or know-it-all tone. 

“What do you want me to say, hah? I fucking overslept. I’ve been pushing myself too hard. Do I really need to fucking be here?” He was shouting and had thrown both of his hands around in his expletive. 

“I can tell you, kid, that you’ve went through about 10 emotions since you walked into this office, and all that compared to the common theme of our other sessions, ya know, anger? You might need some help managing whatever is going on.” The shrink finished softly and leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his pot-belly. Bakugou sneered at him in disgust. 

“All of this bullshit is your fault anyway. You say I’m feeling a shit ton of emotions? Well, that didn’t happen until I came and talked to you and you used your goddamn quirk. If Aizawa weren’t standing around out there somewhere, I’d probably have already left this goddamn office because there’s nothing you can do to help me.” Fucking prick, he thought. 

Dr. Honey sighed and took his greasy glasses off, rubbing his finger over the bridge of his nose. “Katsuki, here’s what I know,” he threw the glasses on his desk with a thunk. “You were attacked and kidnapped by villians. You came to me after a suggestion from a friend, and you told me you wanted help to fix whatever turmoil was happening inside you. Advice I gave you led you to realize some feelings for that same friend. We spent the last session we had talking about your kidnapping, and I stressed just how important it was to come back for follow-up sessions. You didn’t return, which means that something has happened to make you spiral. That right so far?”

Bakugou consciously made the effort to close his mouth and place a scowl on his face. “It fucking might be,” he grumbled. 

“That’s what I thought. I’m guessing that something happened with that friend of yours?”

“It fucking might have.” 

The mouse-man nodded solemnly. Bakugou cocked an eyebrow at him. The mouse-man smiled sadly and said, "So, you don't have to tell me what happened, but I can say that a good apology goes a long way."

Baugou snarled. "An apology ain't worth shit here. You wouldn't fucking understand."

"Okay, kid, listen. You're basically killing yourself out there trying to keep from thinking about this issue you've had with your friend. You aren't going to make headway anywhere if you don't get your shit together, and I'm telling you now, I don't think that happens until you talk to this person you've had a falling out with." 

Bakugou slouched further down on the couch in a pout. He hated to fucking admit it, but the shrink was probably right. He had overslept, and obviously Aizawa was pissed or worried. Hell, he didn’t know which one because the asshole hadn’t said anything to him on the way here. It wasn't really his intention to overwork himself, but he wasn't a fucking idiot and he knew it wasn't going to be good to continue treating his body like shit. Body is my fucking temple and all that horseshit. 

He rolled his eyes and sat up properly. "Okay, fine," he huffed, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. "I'll fucking apologize or whatever."

" And you'll come back to have meetings with me so this doesn't happen again," came his snide remark.

Katsuki got up and walked towards the big oak door, waving his hand, "Yeah. Yeah, whatever, Mickey Mouse." 


The last two times he had stood outside of Kirishima's door in complete emotional agony, he had also been sort of apologizing, so he could tell himself this wouldn't be any different. 

But it would. Behind the door was a ray of fucking sunshine that he despratey needed to pull himself out of whatever deep dark cave he was living in. He'd fucked up. That's all he'd need to say. Kirishima was probably hurt, and he knew he'd have to actually address the issue, but all of the uncomfortable conversations in the world would be worth it to see him fucking smile again. Jeez, really , what the fuck kind of sap was he? 

Blowing air between pursed lips, he knocked twice on the door and heard muffled grumblings and stumbling around. A bleary-eyed, shirtless, red-headed boy opened the door and blinked at the light in the hallway. Bakugou's heart fucking throbbed in his chest. He looked a little worse for wear with some roots showing in his hair and tone ever-so-slightly gone from his stomach, but he was there. In front of him. Beautiful. 

And then Kirishima was conscious of who had knocked on his door, and he crossed his arms with the cutest scowl painted across his face. "Yeah?" he said indignantly. Bakugou wasn't used to a stern Kirishima, so he stuttered on his words.

"I, uh, I think maybe we should-- I mean I'm really-- fuck. Can we fucking talk, Ei?" he finished with the nickname, holding his hands out in a half-shrug. He sounded desperate, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Kirishima's face contorted in pain or maybe that was anguish? Hell, Bakugou didn't know. He looked sorta surprised. "You think you can just waltz right back to my door and pretend you haven't fucking ignored me for two weeks--"

"I'm not pretending anything," he interrupted softly. 

"No, you let me talk, Bakugou,” he raised his voice, “I have been understanding and kind and fucking wonderful to you since we've met, and you have torn into my ass more times than I can count. Now, I understand that you have some type of emotional inadequacy," he paused to swallow hard, hand extended, eyes fluttering closed for a moment to catch up to himself. "But, I'm no longer going to sort your shit out for you. You have to do that, now. You got on top of me," fuck, Katsuki wished he'd keep his voice down, " and when I so much as fucking hesitated, you showed your ass and ignored me for two weeks. Now, whether that was because you can't admit you like me or if you changed your mind about whatever the fuck we’re doing here,” he paused to flail his arms back and forth between them. “I wouldn't fucking know, would I? Because you abandoned me, Katsuki. And if you think a conversation in the dorm hallway is going to fix that, you've got another thing coming, asshole." 

And with that, he slammed the door in Katsuki's face. 

Bakugou stood dumbfounded as seconds counted down into minutes, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He started pacing back and forth between his door and Kirishima’s in his frenzy, and he willed the anger to sink back down into his stomach away from his chest so that he could concentrate. Then he had an idea, and he decidedly pounded on Kirishima’s door once again. 

A groan erupted and a tear stained face greeted him. “What the hell do you--” 

“Hit me,” he said simply, a grin smashed across his face and Gods did he want to ignore the tears on Kirishima’s cheeks. 

The boy’s crimson eyes widened. “What? What is that going to solve, Bakugou?”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so all of that sass wasn’t you being absolutely pissed at me? You’re pissed, I’m an asshole. Let’s fight it out. I can’t do feelings and talk and all that absolute bullshit, so just beat the hell out of me and you’ll probably feel better.” Kirishima shook his head, and Bakugou could tell that somewhere, he had managed to break down a wall because the red-head was smiling

“Alright, fine. I’ll meet you at the gym in 10.” 


Sometime later, the two boys stood face to face in one of the sparring rooms at the gym. It was a familiar sight and Bakugou could feel comfort surrounding him. He willed himself not to seem interested in Kirishima’s body when he removed his shirt, and Bakguou tried not to pay attention to if Kirishima was looking at him when he took his off. The fucking sexual tension in this room , he scoffed to himself. 

Kirishima didn’t wrap his arms in bandages, but Katsuki also wasn’t here to blow off some steam. He wasn’t really sure what he was here for, but at least the two of them were gradually trudging through whatever shit they’d stirred two weeks ago. 

Kirishima readied himself and Bakugou did the same. No words passed between them, and the tension was broken when Kirishima threw himself forward, arm hardened, fist closed. Bakugou ducked and rolled back to his feet behind Kirishima. 

“I thought you wanted me to hit you,” he said as he turned. 

“I didn’t say I was going to make it easy for you,” the blonde said, using his quirk to pop off a few explosions in Kirishima’s direction. Kirishima grinned a cocky, toothy smile. Bakugou’s stomach flipped into butterflies because good lord he wanted to kiss that toothy smile. Then Kirishima lunged once more, connecting a fist in Bakugou’s abdomen.   He was too focused on it to dodge, and he was instantly battling anger in his gut along with the sudden urge to puke from the punch. 

He was quick to react and swiped a leg under Kirishima’s to land him hard on the ground on his back. He fell with an audible oof to the hard floor. Bakugou took a minute to smile down at him and then extended a hand in camaraderie. Kirishima used that hand to pull him down hard on top of him and Bakugou almost panicked at the lust in the red-head’s eyes. Nope, he wasn’t ready for that again.

“You’re supposed to be kicking my ass, dumbhair, not seducing me,” he said gruffly, towering over the boy holding himself up with his arms.   

“Who said anything about seducing, Boomy, ” he said, and then Bakugou was being flipped over roughly to his back. Goddamn the sexual tension.

He pushed against rock-hard shoulders and abdomen with his hands and knee until Kirishima stumbled up and backwards on his feet. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to aim a few blasts towards the boy, and Kirishima sucked air in through his teeth as his unhardened skin caught some of the heat. Bakugou hesitated in concern just long enough for Kirishima to land another punch in his gut, which successfully pissed him off. 

“It’s fucking on, now, asshole,” he growled, lunging forward. There was a chuckle and then a look of surprise as the blonde propelled himself forward with blasts. 

What followed was a frenzy of blasted punches and blocks from Kirishima’s hardened arms. Bakugou advanced on him, forcing him to be backed into a wall. Between flickers of light from his explosions, he could see sweat trickling down the red-head’s forehead and hear grunts as he struggled to keep up. Bakugou’s grin was proud and conceited. “Come on, dumb hair,” he taunted, “If you can’t take the heat stay out of the--”

Bakugou was interrupted by a cry of pain as Kirishima crumpled to the floor. His last blast had effectively burned both of Kirishima’s arms and he’d managed to collide with the boy’s chest as Kirishima’s quirk hit its limitations way too soon. Leaned against the wall, Kirishima’s face was contorted in pain and his arms and chest were bloodied. The smell of burnt flesh wafted into Bakugou’s nose. 

“Oh, shit, oh fuck,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of his slouched form. “Oh, gods, Kirishima, I didn’t mean to, oh fuck.” Panic was rising in his chest. What the fuck had he done? 

Kirishima sat impossibly still with his arms still crossed across his chest. He tried to grin at Bakugou through the pain, but grimaced. “Nah, bro,” he croaked, “Really, it's fine. Just get who ever’s on staff and we’ll-- we’ll go to-- recovery--girl.” His words faltered as his eyes drifted closed, and Bakugou was engulfed in sheer terror. 

“Ei?!” His head was dipped down to his chest, and Bakuguo pulled it up to tap on his cheeks lightly. “Come on, Kirishima,” he muttered, and when there was no response, “Oh, shit.” 


And then he was running and screaming for help, bounding out of the sparring room to find whatever fucking teacher was on staff.

Chapter Text

Bakugou sat in the hospital room beside Kirishima’s bed. He was hunched over, elbows to knees, one hand raised to his mouth. He had never been a nail biter, but as he sat there, looking at Kirishima’s sleeping form, he had to put his feelings of destruction somewhere. The nurses told him that he had just passed out from the pain and that they had given him sedation when he came in in order to dress his wounds. He would wake up; he wasn’t in a coma or anything that serious. He was okay, but he would have some scars.  

Aizawa had went with them to the hospital, and Bakugou had fought him tooth and nail to ride in the ambulance. This was his mess, he’d be around to see this shit through. 

It was an accident. Kirishima wasn’t in shape, Bakugou was stronger than he had been at their regular sparring sessions. They’d been emotionally charged, which was irresponsible, but it was an accident. Those were the words that Aizawa had told him in the waiting room as he trembled, a comforting hand placed on his shoulder. Horseshit.

He tapped his foot and stared at Kirishima’s peaceful face, tearing off another piece of nail between his teeth. He looked so peaceful and angelic. “Fuck,” Katsuki muttered under his breath. He stood up and paced back and forth in the small hospital room, his boots echoing off the walls almost in time with the beeping of the red-head’s monitor. “Come onnnn, dumb hair,” he whispered. “Wake the fuck up.”

He’d only been allowed in the room for thirty minutes, but it already felt like an eternity. He needed to hear Kirishima’s voice and see his blood-red eyes shining up at him. He’d fucked up even more royally than before, and yeah, he’d not meant to, but it was his fucking hands that’d put those wounds on his arms. 

He balled his fists up. He didn’t feel like he was good for anything except destruction. That’s all he caused with his temper and his hands. He wasn’t good for Kirishima, not as a friend or whatever else this bullshit turned into. He ran his hands up into his hair and tugged it as he continued to pace. He had hurt his feelings and then had hurt him physically. There was no way that Kirishima would ever talk to him again. 

“You’re gunna pace a hole in the floor, Boomy,” came a soft voice from behind him. 

Bakugou stopped dead and was by Kirishima’s side in an instant. “Kiri, I--”

“I know, dude. You didn’t mean to hurt me. Been eating too much junk food for the past two weeks on top of not strength training. My quirk just reached its limit, that’s all.” 

Bakugou pulled his chair across the floor from behind him to sit closer to the bed. He itched to touch him. He stared hard at Kirishima’s fingers peeking out the end of his bandages, and he craved to lace his fingers between them. His voice was there, he was still Kirishima, but for some reason, it felt like Katsuki needed to feel him exist. He could feel tears pricking his eyes and he gritted his teeth to physically bite back the tears as he spoke. 

“I could have seriously hurt you, Ei, and after the way I treated you before? It’s no wonder that you’re scared of me.” He stared down at his own hands as he spoke, this new weird feeling of shame overcoming him. He’d learned to accept that people were just going to be afraid of him and that he had the personality of a villian. It is what it fucking is, he thought. 

“Katsuki, look at me,” said the red-head, very seriously. “I am not afraid of you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone purposely unless it was a villian, and I think the whole world knows that, or they should.” 

Bakugou could feel his tear ducts become traitors as tears slid down his fucking face. Well, fuck it. We’re here now, aren’t we? Let’s fucking do this. 

“Kirishima, I thought I scared you that day. I legit thought that you were afraid I’d hurt you because I was being so aggressive. I really wanted you and I thought you, like, were trying to push me to be aggressive. But then your face-- I mean, that’s my own bullshit, and you didn’t deserve how I reacted one bit, but I didn’t know how to fix it afterwards either. I didn’t want to come at you with some half-assed apology because I felt like you deserve more than that. All I do is break things, but--” he stopped to inhale a shaky breath, and goddamnit he couldn’t stand it anymore. He shoved his hand forward and partially laced his fingers into Kirishima’s. 

“If these last few weeks have taught me anything,” he continued, “it’s that I need you in my life. I don’t care how you exist in my life; I just need you. And that’s not fair to you in the slightest because I’m fucking bad for you, Kirishima. I don’t know why you can’t see that. You’re a fucking angel and I’m a fucking train wreck and here you are laying in a hospital bed because of me.” His voice broke on his last sentence and he held back a sob. “I’m selfish though because I don’t care that I’m bad for you. I need you in my life because I need you around to tell me that I’m a good person, Kirishima. I need you to tell me I’m a good person because I don’t think anyone else sees it and it breaks my heart.”

Katsuki looked up and met the red-head’s eyes with his own. At some point in his bullshit speech, the freak had started to rub the top of his hand with his thumb. He watched as Kirishima swallowed a few times and then he broke eye contact. 

“Seeing you cry is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I’m hard all of the time, so--” he tearfully chuckled at his own bad joke. Bakugou grinned and cocked and eyebrow at the dumbass. “But no, seriously, Boomy, I am afraid.” Bakugou’s grin faded fast from his lips and his heart almost stopped. “I’m afraid of losing you.”

Katsuki felt a weight lift off his chest as he smiled and used the back of his other hand to smear some tears off the side of his face. “Tough, shit, rock-boy. I’m not going anywhere.” 


Kirishima was released from the hospital late that night with strict instructions to change his bandages everyday and to see the school nurse for some recovery kisses. The ride home in the uber with Aizawa was awkward to say the least, but he sat in the middle of them and made them promise they’d cut the bullshit and go back to normal because they were making him get grey hairs. 

He walked into the dorms without them, and a slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them. Kirishima kicked at a rock with his shoe. 

“So, uhm… are we good?” Bakugou ventured. 

Kirishima smiled, showing his sharp teeth again and making Bakugou’s heart flutter. “Yeah, I mean, how am I supposed to say no after you word vomited your feelings all over me in the hospital?” 

Bakugou almost punched Kirishima in the arm, but realized what he was doing just before it landed. “Oi, dumbhair, I’m trying here.”

“Well, you could always stay over in my room for a while and keep trying. I know talking isn’t really your thing but--” 

“I will do literally anything you want if you’ll rub my fucking back til I fall asleep,” he interrupted without making eye contact. “I’m basically a goddamn zombie after these last two weeks and your dumbass ruined my ability to fall asleep on my own.”

Chapter Text

Wordlessly, the two boys approached Kirishima’s dorm and filed in when it was finally unlocked. Bakugou, Kirishima noticed, was growing increasingly stiffer the longer that they were alone together, and he knew that it was because of all of the things he’d said back at the hospital. The poor guy was putting words about his feelings out into the world, and Kirishima could tell it was making him uncomfortable now that the moment was over. 

The hospital had given him antibiotics and mild pain killers for his wounds, but they were honestly mostly healed up save a few nasty scabs he was sure were going to scar later. At least he’d have a couple of manly scars to match the one above his eyebrow. The funniest part to him, if any of this situation could be called funny, was that his arms had been crossed during the blast, so his chest, which was also sorta banged up, sported a naked ‘x’ where his arms had been. He had thought to himself, while changing in the hospital bathroom, that it matched the ‘x’ across the chest of Bakugou’s hero costume. That was very fitting. 

He threw the bag of medicine onto his desk and winced at the pain of moving around his arms. His muscles were more sore than anything, and he was just disappointed in himself for the lapse in his training over the past few weeks. He knew that he’d have to work harder once he was healed to be back on his previous level, but at least, well maybe, he’d have Bakugou around to push him now. 

The blonde was standing close to the door still, hands shoved deep in gym short pockets. Neither of them had changed clothes from their sparring, so Bakugou sported tears in his shirt and Kirishima’s shirt was gross with blood and smelled of smoke. Bakugou stared at the shirt with wide eyes, probably only now noticing the carnage of his attack. 

“I’m fine, bro, I promise. Just sore,” Kirishima reassured him, reaching for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. It was at that moment that he realized he might not be able to undress himself, and that was going to be a problem. Probably noticing the pained look on his face from his movement, Bakugou was at his side in an instant, all apprehension gone from his demeanor and a determined look on his face. He ever-so-gently grasped Kirishima’s arms, and helped him raise them partially above his head. It hurt like hell , but nothing compared to the butterflies in his stomach from being so close to this concerned Bakugou. 

With Kirishima’s hands in the air, Bakugou pushed the hem of his shirt up and over, grazing against the skin of Kirishima’s abdomen in the process and leaving gooseflesh in his path. There was something so gentle and so… protective written across Bakugou’s face when the shirt was off. It was like he was worried he was going to break Kirishima by accident. 

Well, he almost had , he reminded himself. He didn’t remember much from the sparring except white, hot heat burning into his arms and then Bakugou calling out his name urgently. He was spared the ambulance ride and the healing from the doctor’s recovery quirk, and only woke up to see the beautiful blonde angel of his dreams pacing back and forth in his room. And then he’d really apologize and explained himself to the best of his ability. It was foreign and wonderful and scary all at the same time because woah, did he have feelings for this man. 

Bakugou was standing in front of him with the crumpled shirt in his hands, looking as though he wanted to incinerate it. Kirishima took the shirt from him and tossed it in the trash beside the desk. “So,” he started, walking to his bed, expecting the blonde to follow, “been one hell of a day, huh?” It was only when he turned back around that he noticed Bakugou wasn’t moving. Kirishima scoffed and closed the distance between them in two long strides. He took Bakugou’s face in both of his hands and made him make eye contact. 

“Boomy, I’m okay. We’re okay. I don’t want this to haunt you for the rest of your damned life. I’m going to have two manly scars on my arms and one on my chest that basically makes it look like I’m trying to burn your hero costume into my skin. You branded me, yeah, but whatever happened in that sparring room is done and we gotta move on.”

Bakugou’s eyes searched Kirishima’s for a moment before a sideways grinned appeared across his lips. Kirishima’s stomach flipped. “Okay, dumb-hair,” he said softly. Kirishima realized that they were so close with his hands still on either side of the blonde’s chiseled jawline. There was a tension in the air around him again, much like that from the sparring room, and he could see the hunger in Bakugou’s eyes. 

“Okay, no,” Kirishima said, catching his breath and dropping his hands to step away. 

“No, what?” the blonde said, catching one of Kirishima’s hands. His voice was deep and velvety and it took all Kirishima had in him to not just take whatever Bakugou was willing to dish out. They had to figure some stuff out first; ravaging each other would have to wait until later.

“We need to talk, Boomy,” he said, not confident in the sound of his voice. He walked over to his desk and gingerly pulled the chair out, minding the dull pain in his arm. 

“Well,” he said, walking over to flop down on his bed, “Usually those words come at the end of a fucking relationship, rocky, and I wasn’t so sure that we had started one yet.” Bakugou was leaned back on his elbows looking at him as he sat down, and Kirishima tried not to be distracted by how strong and toned his shoulders were holding up his weight. 

“That’s just it, bro. What are we doing? I don’t care about labels, but if we’re going to cut the tension in this room with a knife, we have to at least have some ground rules or something.” He sat with one of his legs pulled up against his chest in the desk chair, self-comforting because there was no way Bakugou was coming out of this conversation without anger. He could already see it bubbling up in the way the blonde licked his lips and clenched his fists. 

“If you don’t care about labels, then what’s the fucking point in talking about it?”

Kirishima scoffed and stood back up, taking a note from Mina’s book and pacing back and forth. “Because, Bakugou, I-- I--” he stopped and faced away from the blonde, unable to make eye contact or even look at him as he finally admitted it outloud. “I like you. A lot. Okay? If we are fooling around or whatever, I can’t just do that as friends who are secretly in the closet together. I’m all in, and I can’t be anything less with you.” 

He clenched his fists at his side and basked in the pain the action caused, hoping it’d bring clarity to his mind which was swimming with thoughts about rejection and learning to live without his best friend again. He didn’t notice the movement behind him until he felt Bakugou’s strong arms snake around his waist and a head resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” he said simply, so close to Kirishima’s ear that he shivered. 

He cleared his throat and broke the embrace to turn around and face him. “Okay, what?” he asked seriously, searching the blonde’s face. Bakugou let a smile play across his features that had Kirishima feeling like he was in deep shit because how could anyone be so fucking beautiful. And then he shrugged. 

“Okay. Fuck it. If you’re all in, then I’m all in. Let’s do this gay shit together, I guess.” 

Kirishima couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. “I’m pretty sure,” he chuckled, “that ‘gay shit’ is an offensive phrase.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, stepping in to close the distance between them once more before he placed a kiss, ever-so-gently on Kirishima’s lips. “Whatever, dumb-hair,” the blonde murmured against his lips afterwards. Alright, that’s it, Kirishima thought, ignoring the pain in his arms and ramming his hands up into Bakugou’s soft hair. He smashed their lips together in direct contrast of Bakugou’s soft ministrations, and oh, how the tables had turned, because he was the one taking what he wanted now.

They kissed like they wanted to devour each other, all teeth and groans and hands grasping until they reached the edge of Kirishima’s bed and fell down onto it side by side. Bakugou paused to throw his tattered shirt across the room and that was long enough for Kirishima to realize he forgot something. “Kats-” he mumbled against the boy’s returning lips. Bakugou took that as an indication to kiss down the side of his jaw to his neck and fuck it was really hard to concentrate. He settled his hand in Bakugou’s hair and cleared his throat so his voice didn’t sound so wrecked

“Ground rules, I still need-- ahh-- ground rules,” he’d managed. Bakugou paused to make eye contact with Kirishima and brush some red-hair back out of his face. Kirishima was so taken aback by the fire lit in the boy’s eyes that he forgot how to speak for a minute. 

Bakugou returned to his neck with an impatient growl, but his kisses were softer and less urgent now. Kirishima wasn’t sure if that was better or worse because he could feel an erection steadily growing between his legs either way. “Use your words, Ei, I’m listening,” the blonde mumbled between kisses. 

“Uhm-- ahh-- you have to try and talk to me about how you’re-- mmm-- feeling,” he stumbled out between involuntary noises. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate. Bakugou hummed against his neck in agreement. 

“Okay, uhh, Dr. Honey, you have to see him.”

“Already planned on it,” he purred against his jawline, moving back towards his lips.

“And this isn’t a secret, you have to take me out on dates,” he said breathlessly, pressing his forehead against Bakugou’s and staring deep into his eyes. 

“Done,” said the blonde, kissing Kirishima’s nose cutely and sending butterflies back into his stomach on top of the deep pit of arousal already existing there. Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Kirishima’s lips. “Do I get to give you rules?” he whispered. 

“Whatever you want, Boomy,” the red-head whispered back. 

“First off, I like that nickname, so keep using it. Second, if we’re fucking doing this, you’re mine and no one else’s. It’s just me and you, and if anyone lays their fucking hands on you, I’ll kill ‘em,” he all but growled the last few words and caught Kirishima’s lips in another, increasingly aggressive kiss. Kirishima was on cloud nine and floating because Bakugou had just said that he was his. You’re mine replayed over and over in his head. “Are we done with rules now?” Bakugou groaned against his lips. 

All Kirishima could do was nod pathetically and pull Bakugou over on top of him.

Chapter Text

Bakugou wanted to drink in every little ounce of the red-head under him. Despite every bit of his body telling him to hurry, he wanted to take his time and learn every inch of Kirishima’s body. His urgency was there, but as he leaned over Kirishima’s body for the third time in his life, his heart was swelling with affection and need and protection. Kirishima had used his damaged arms to pull him over on top of him, but Bakugou had overpowered his grip and pulled back to look at his beautiful fucking face. Eyes hooded, lips dark pink from their kisses, and cheeks a deep red, Kirishima looked like fire with his red hair atop his head. Katsuki gently kissed each cheek, his chin, his nose, and his forehead and then raised up to stare at him once more as his eyes fluttered back open. 

“You’re fucking pretty, Ei, you know that?” he whispered, enjoying the way that Kirishima seemed to shiver at just the sound of his voice. He kissed down the cooing boy’s jawline and to his neck once more and brushed his lips near Kirishima’s ear. He wanted to do this right because the red-head was his now. All of their previous bullshit wouldn’t matter anymore because Katsuki wanted to treat him exactly how an angel should be treated. “Can I touch you?” he whispered, and Kirishima squirmed as he hummed in agreement. 

Suddenly nervous because of course he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing , he raised to watched Kirishima’s face as he slid his hand down the boys bandaged chest and stomach. His skin was so soft beneath Bakugou’s fingers. He watched crimson eyes retreat from sight behind fluttering eyelids as he reached the hem of Kirishima’s shorts. The boy bit his lip and arched his back to Katsuki’s touch. Bakugou grinned wickedly and traced his fingers across the faint happy trail that disappeared under the shorts. He could practically feel Kirishima’s heart racing through his entire body due to nerves. 

“Just uh-- tell me if you need me to stop,” he said with a shaky voice. He didn’t want to scare him away again. Kirishima shook his head fervently and that was all the encouragement Bakugou needed before he dipped his hand lower under the shorts to catch Kirishima’s achingly hard cock in his hand. Kirishima’s eyes burst open and a deep moan escaped his lips, but then he was melting to Katsuki’s touch. 

“Fuck,” Katsuki heard himself say unevenly, “You’re so fucking hard, Ei.” And he was. It was like the boy’s quirk was working overtime on his cock, but Bakugou knew better. 

Kirishima chuckled under his breath and grinned daringly up at Bakugou in a way that caused his own erection to throb. “Well, that kinda is my thing,” he said, breath hitching in his throat at the end as Bakugou stroked for the first time. All Katsuki could do was send a devilish grin back in his direction as he experimentally started to move his hand rhythmically, gauging his partner’s reaction with each movement. It was different than jerking himself off, he noticed, but as he gripped his thumb and forefinger a little tighter around the tip, Kirishima responded well to the same technique he generally used on himself. 

Bakugou didn’t take his eyes off of Kirishima’s face the whole time he stroked agonizingly slow up and down. On top of gauging his reaction and making sure he was okay, he also couldn’t look away from the beauty of his scrunched up face and bitten lip. Kirishima his arm around Bakugou and was gently raking his nails up and down his back, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms and a shiver to dive right down to his groin making his cock twitch in his shorts. The noises beginning to erupt from Kirishima’s lips were both angelic and sinful all at the same time. Bakugou swallowed hard and tried to focus on his task at hand. He was ignoring every fiber in his being that told him to just ravage the beautiful soul beneath him, but his arousal was getting overwhelming and Bakugou was about to fucking lose it.

He sped up his hand a little bit, creating a steady rhythm beneath the band of Kirishima’s shorts, and he was stunned at the low, guttural groan that tore from the red-head’s lips. His breath was coming in short gasps and his nails were digging into the skin of his back. His eyes were closed, cheeks flushed red, bottom lip pursed between sharp teeth. Bakugou smirked down at him and gave into some of his aggression, dipping his head down to kiss, suck, and nip at Kirishima’s neck.

“Fu-- fuck, Kats, it’s s-so good,” he gasped, running his hand up into Bakugou’s hair and causing a growl to escape from between the blonde’s lips. Kirishima was absolutely squirming and mindlessly gripping the sheets with his other hand, rolling his hips up to meet the even thrust of Bakugou’s hands. He could tell that he was getting close, and that was wonderful for Katsuki’s ego, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want this to be over too quickly, and he absolutely needed more. 

With a protested whine from Kirishima, he released his cock, made very serious eye contact and whispered, “I’m gonna take your shorts off now, is that okay?” He waited for Kirishima to nod his head and then they were sliding his shorts and underwear down the boy’s hips together, his hand on one side, Kirishima’s on the other. 

Kirishima looked down at Bakugou’s still fully clothed body. “You, too,” he whined. 

Katsuki grinned micheviously, “Fuckin’ greedy aren’t ya?” 

Bakugou pulled his shirt off in one swipe, but it took a little more maneuvering to push his shorts and underwear down to his ankles in his position on the bed. Clothes finally discarded, their bodies were bare and Katsuki was pretty sure it was the most fucking vulnerable he had ever felt. It was almost overwhelming to him how beautiful the boy before him was. All toned muscles, thick thighs, cock hard and resting against his stomach. If he were being honest with himself, and he might as well be at this point, it was kinda like a dream come true. 

He wasn’t able to hesitate for long, carnal need taking over his body with every heaving breath Kirishima took beneath him. He kissed his swollen lips and pulled himself up on top of Kirishima, pressing himself down until their faces were inches apart. Naked bodies flush against each other, Bakugou willed himself to maintain control for just a moment longer. He needed to make sure that this was okay; that he wasn’t being too much for his precious red-head. 

“Kiri, you-- you gotta tell me if this is okay because I’m too fucking far gone to see any signals you’re sending me,” he said gruffly, searching Kirishima’s eyes for hesitation. What he was met with was near desperation. 

“Just-- Katsuki please, ” he said, pausing to bite at his bottom lip. He slid his hands up Bakugou’s back, raking his nails, and then pushed his fingertips up into his hair. The whole ministration caused a fucking snarl to come out of his throat. He was going to lose his shit if he didn’t get some friction going soon. “Stop,” Kirishima said pointedly, kissing his lips in between words, “treating me like I’m going to break. I’m yours, right? Then treat me like I’m yours.” 

And with that, Katsuki was completely gone. A simple, growling, “ Fuck, Ei, ” was all he was able to manage before he slammed their lips together and ground his hips unbelievably hard into Kirishima’s. Their erections slid against each other deliciously, molded together with the close confines of their bodies. When they’d been here previously, Bakugou was able to control himself enough to watch his rhythm, and he knew that was what had driven Kirishima over the edge last time, but he could care fucking less right now. He rammed his hips back and forth in a sloppy, needy way, but judging from the noises that Kirishima was making, it didn’t matter. 

In no time, their cocks were sliding against each other much easier, the slick of pre-cum creating a sort of slip and slide of ecstasy between them. Bakugou couldn’t maintain their kisses once this happened, and settled for nipping at Kirishima’s neck, causing the boy to shudder beneath him and pull at his hair. Katsuki was pretty sure that he had never needed another human being, had never wanted another human being, this close before. If it were up to him, Kirishima would be closer , but that wasn’t possible. 

The red-head was just as gone as Bakugou was, and he could tell by the mindless blabbering coming from his mouth: “Katsuki, shit, Kats, oh my gods, ahh- fuck you’re so good at that.” 

Bakugou was losing his own shit, face pressed against Kirishima’s neck, breathing in the absolutely intoxicating scent of cinnamon, gasping for air in between leaving small bruises on the boy’s neck. Kirishima would have to explain the marks later, but all Bakugou could think in that moment was, fucking mine.  

And he suddenly, desperately needed to hear those words spoken out loud. “Ei,” he growled, raising to stare at his angelic face, “tell me that you’re mine.” He kissed the side of his lips over and over as he spoke, “I need you to say it, please ,” he groaned out. 

“Fuck, Kats, yours. ‘M yours. So good, Kats, shit. Always been yours.” He was barely coherent and Kastuki loved the sound of his absolutely needy and desperate voice.

Katsuki’s moans turned into what could only be described as shouts as he buried his face into the pillow by Kirishima’s head. The red-head’s nails dug deep into the skin of his hips as he helped Katsuki grind harder against him, calling his name, probably too loud. He could see stars behind his eyelids as he and Kirishima came together in what was probably the most intense orgasm of his life. He collapsed almost immediately on top of Kirishima, trying to catch his breath. Their cocks throbbed and pulsed together between them, and Katsuki was sure if he didn’t move and remove the stimulation, he was going to pass out. He rolled over onto his back and promptly pulled Kirishima up against his chest. 

They laid like that for what could have been a half and hour just trying to catch their breath. It was Kirishima who spoke first. “Do I get to call you my boyfriend if I let you embarrass me like that again?” He could hear the smile on the boy’s lips.

Bakugou traced his fingers over Kirishima’s skin, deep in thought. He knew he was joking, but Bakugou couldn’t ignore the overwhelming feeling of affection welling up in his chest. “You can call me whatever you want, Kiri. I’m all in, remember?” he said softly, placing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Kirishima raised to meet Bakugou’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he honestly looked like he was going to cry. “So, you really meant that?” 

Bakugou playfully bopped Kirishima on the back of the head. “Of course I did, dumb-hair. I know you were trying to pull one over on me with all the fucking kissing and shit, but I meant what I said. You didn’t have me that distracted.” He flashed a cocky grin at him. 

Kirishima smiled, showing all of his pointy teeth. “Coulda had me fooled, Boomy.”

As Kirishima laid his head back down on his shoulder and snuggled up to his chest, Bakugou felt like he could face the entire world if he were just allowed to hold him like this forever. He’d been riddled with anger and fear and doubt for so long that these emotions were foreign to him, but he was finally able to be honest with himself and admit that he probably was falling in love with the dumbass wrapped up in his arms. Even if the universe had a way of fucking him over and sending him into shitty situations with villians and whatever, he knew he’d be okay if he’d just manage to keep this sappy shit going. 

As he closed his eyes he thought, Hit me with your best fucking shot, world.