Work Text:
Kirishima hated the weekend.
And he knew, yes he knew, how controversial that sounded. Hell, if you asked him a couple weeks ago about his favorite day of the week, he would proudly exclaim that Saturday night was by far superior to any other day of the week.
Which okay, yes he still loved the weekend, but now everytime the weekend started to roll around, he could feel his stomach start to turn. The pit in his stomach blossomed feelings so complex that he felt it would take hours to unravel them all, but so simple that even a sideways glance from Bakugou made them all rest.
Kirishima could spend hours looking at the gentle slope of Bakugou’s nose, the way that warmer lighting seemed to make his hair glow, and the way his eyes were such a perfect shade of red he wanted to drown in it. After all, it’s always been his favorite color.
“Yo, Kiri! You good man? You’re kinda zoning out on us.” Kamanari sat down next to him at the lunch table with a loud plop, loud enough to draw Bakugou’s sharp stare from his seat across the table.
“Haha, yeah man, I’m just thinking about the English paper due next week. I’m not sure if I’ll pass it or not, like I think I might be able to, but I need to start soon. I need all that extra time to revise, y’know?” Surprisingly that’s all it took for Kamanari to start off on his own spiel of how he planned to wait till last minute because, duh, that always makes his work 10x better.
As Kirishima started to slowly eat his lunch he felt a harsh kick under the table, across from him bakugou glaring at him. He sheepishly smiled as the other boy leaned forward, face far too close for his own liking, well he did like it, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with that at the moment.
“Shitty hair” His voice was a low whisper, rough but spoken far too softley to provoke any fear from the redhead, not that Bakugou’s voice could ever pull that reaction from him.
“What the fuck is up with you and your shitty ass lie? Don’t think you can fool me like Pikchua over there.” Red eyes met red with tension so thick you could choke on it, but before Kirishima could brush off Bakugou’s concern, Midoryia’s cheerful voice pulled away the attention.
With a final stare, and a hmph, Bakugou shoved his chair back and walked away, with only a slight glance of annoyance sent Kirishima’s way. And so Kirishima watched as his best friend was led away, by the one person he began to dread seeing.
“Hey wait! We didn’t discuss weekend plans!” The electric blond’s cry hung in the air as the doors to the cafeteria slowly shut.
-
On Friday nights, the squad typically played Mario Kart, staying up until the moon had long since reached its peak. Kirishima used to live and breathe for these nights, nights when he could lean too close to his best friend, press their knees together, and see the joy in his face as he demolished everyone again and again.
But now as he lay alone in the dark of his room all he could think about was the fact that Kats- no, he told himself, Bakugou was with Midoryia. Like he had been the past few weeks, all his free time goes to the person that has been with Bakugou through all of his important moments.
And Kirishima had always thought that maybe Midoryia had the past and the big moments, but Kirishima had the mundane, day to day. The weekend sleepovers, the nights full of secret laughter that was only ever heard in the walls of the redhead’s room, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Midoryia had been there for so much, logically Kirishima knew that Midoriya had heard the soft laugh Bakugou lets out after a particularly funny joke, but he still wanted to think that what they had was special. That it was Kirishima’s hand that Bakugou took, where Midoryia said it had to be him, but now it felt as though Midoryia held all of the attention Bakugou had to spare.
And it wasn’t like Kirishima could be upset about it, he had encouraged Bakugou to fix their relationship, held him after he fought with Midoryia, and had basically shoved the two together. And God did they look happier now.
Bakugou was less riled up, more accepting of help, and willing to lend his hand to help more. And Midoryia seemed to laugh a lot lighter, less tense during class, and seemed to walk with a more pronounced hop in his step.
He wanted so badly for both of them to be happy, but he was selfish. He was so selfish. All he could think about was the fact that he wished he was still able to press against Bakugou on Friday night game nights, that he wanted to be training with the blond, and to watch him as he slept. He looked so pretty when he was asleep.
Kirishima didn’t want to admit that he saw the chemistry they had with each other. That he could ignore the history, and the way he knew that he could never compare to Midoryia. Not when it came to Bakugou Katsuki, he always was Midoryia’s. Never Kirishima’s.
Kirishima fell asleep at 4 am.
-
He knew he was getting bad again, he could feel the edges of his life slowly bleed black again.
The eyebags under his eyes started to become noticeable, and whenever asked he would always say he was just up too late playing Animal Crossing again.
The hair that so proudly earned his nickname, shitty hair, started to fall into his face. The new pack of gel that Bakugou had found on sale and bought for him remained unopened. Kirishima just wanted to hold onto just so he could have proof that Bakugou cared, that he did think of him.
He pretended not to see the new All Might magazine on Izuku’s desk. The sight made the ache in his chest worsen.
Of course he heard a few comments here and there about his hair, where he just would say he slept in late, or how he couldn’t stop thinking about the way that Bakugou had run his hand through a few pieces, and deemed it less shitty.
Though, while it did send electrical shocks to his heart, he knew the reason he wore it down more wasn’t because of how he liked the way it made Bakugou look a second longer at him.
Kirishima almost wished that people would see through his bullshit. He knew that if Bakugou had been around more, he would’ve noticed his lies. He always did. But it was selfish, undignified, to think that way. He might not know for sure, and his problems aren’t Bakugou’s, he didn’t need to bother him with some stupid feelings he was too weak to even deal with.
-
The feelings started to feel less stupid as the weeks passed by. They started to crawl into his throat and infect his words, infecting his brain with thoughts that were too scary to share. Infect the way he saw the world.
Kirishima had tried to go to game nights and weekend trips even without Bakugou, though he still had his rare appearances, but now Kirishima couldn’t even recall the last time he didn’t lock himself away from the rest of the world. And God did he loved the way it hurt, he loved the way it was so familiar that the pain felt comforting, and he knew the others didn’t care so he could indulge in his self destructive habits.
Both Kirishima and Bakugou barely came to lunch anymore, Bakugou with Midoryia and Kirishima hidden away in the lost corners of a library rarely used anymore. One he and Bakugou had used to study together, but now have barely spoken as of late. The distance Kirishima had put hurt, but he knew it was better in the long run.
And so it was that on one fateful day that Kirishima had heard voices muffled behind a bookshelf near where he ate his lunch. He didn’t mind sharing his space, and it wasn’t like he exactly hid where he was at, he just simply said studying extra at the library when asked. It felt nice to be able to bask in the silence.
“Kachaan please, you need to do something! He clearly-”
“What am I supposed to do? I- I don’t know what to do. Deku, please just, I don’t know what to do. He’s the one who always reaches out, and I just don’t know how to help him.”
“You have to try at least, you’re his best friend and-”
“I haven’t been though. Lately I haven’t been his best friend. I just, I wanted to work so hard to beat you, I want to beat you. But he's my equal. It’s different. And I don’t want to be his best friend anymore, I-”
Kirishima didn’t need to hear the rest before he left, the library doors shutting far too loud for a space designed for silence.
-
It was Saturday night, and Kirishima was alone.
Well as alone as you could get if you counted the fly’s on his desk, and the music that plays softly from his radio.
So pretty fucking lonley.
At least that’s how it started until there was a gentle tapping against his door.
“Kami, I already told you I’m not in the mood” His voice sounded far too harsh to be directed at one of his best friends, well his only best friend at the moment apparently.
“It’s not Kamanari, can I come in? Please.” Bakugou’s voice bled into the room almost too quiet to hear over the buzzing underneath Kirishima’s skin.
With a sigh Kirishima opened the door, seeing a disheveled blond standing before him.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?” The desperation of the blond’s voice leaked into each word almost too heavily. Kirishima rolled his eyes, “Can you? I’m not sure.” The sarcasm edging the blond on, who pushed his way past the taller boy.
“Kirishima, I need you to listen please, okay? Just please, I need to talk to you.” Anger seeped into Kirishima’s veins, he needed to talk? Now? After weeks of being brushed aside it seemed hypocritical to Kirishima, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Katsuki get away with it.
“Okay so now you want to talk? Is that it? It’s been WEEKS, man! I tried so hard at first okay, I tried to tell myself that I was being crazy, that yeah you can have your own time, have other friends. But then you started to ditch us, ditch me.” The boy pacing around his room, hands flying all around the room, taking up as much space as the words he spoke, all while Bakugou sat on the edge of the bed, guilt eating him alive.
“And now you want to talk? Where have you even been the past couple weeks? Do you even know where I’ve been? I’d ask if you even cared where I’ve been but you talk so loud I could hear you telling Midoryia of all people how you don’t even want to be my friend anymore and-”
And it was in an instant that he was on his feet, inches away from Kirishima’s face.
“What. The. Fuck. Kirishima” A hand softly pushed at Kirishima’s chest, forcing the space to open back up again. “You want to know why I’ve been around Midoriya so much? Because he was going to help me confess that yes I don’t want to be your best friend anymore, that I want to be more than that. And where the hell do you get off on being so mad at me, when you’re doing the same thing! Do you know how fucking worried everyone has been about you? How worried I have been?” It was Bakugou’s turn to pace, teeth grinding together, and eyes never meeting the redheads.
“And I’m sorry, okay? I am. I really am, I just, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I couldn’t figure out how to talk to you, and then you started to act differently. I’m not good at this, feelings don’t come easy to me. But I can’t watch you rot away anymore, okay? Jesus, fuck. I love you too much to watch you do this to yourself!” By the time he was done speaking his breathing was heavier, his eyes glassy. And fuck is Kirishima hadn’t felt a weight lifted off his chest.
“You love me?” It was such a pure simple question, but it held so much weight attached.
“Tch, that’s what you got from that? Of course I love you, it’s always been you, nobody else.” Bakugou looked away at the admission, far too embarrassed to look anywhere near his best friend.
It didn’t matter though, because before the clock in the room could make another sound, before the radio could let another note play, Kirishima was kissing
Him.
And it almost felt like a dream, and he surely would’ve thought it one, if not for the slight burn in his side from where Bakugou is grabbing him. And when Kirishima pulls away he swears he can see stars, the look on the other boy's face would surely haunt him, his lips slightly puffy and his cheeks so pink he looks sunburned.
“I love you too. So much, and I’m so sorry. I know I could’ve tried better but I don’t know, we can fix this okay? It’s an easy fix, alright? Just please stay with me, please don’t leave. I’m so sorry, I promise it’ll be okay.” Kirishima’s breath fanned over their faces, their foreheads still touching, and they could see the tears in each other's eyes.
“Shit, just, don’t blame yourself okay? I won’t leave, I promise. I’m sorry.” Bakugou brushed the tears across his cheeks, and pressed a light kiss where his fingers just grazed, and pulled Kirishima against him. And it felt so safe and warm again, and all those knots in his stomachs unraveled.
Maybe Kirishima could like the weekend again, after all, he doubted he would spend them alone again.