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Of the many things that bothered Bakugou about his classmates, at the top of the list was how fucking handsy they were. He hadn’t really noticed it that much until after they had moved into the dorms, but after that it was constant, and grating. Always touching, hugging, hanging, hand-holding, head-in-lap-laying.
Not with him, of course. Or even with everyone, really. Reluctantly—angrily—he recognized that it wasn’t that just anyone touching just anyone else at any given time that irked him so.
It was that they were all constantly touching Kirishima.
Dunceface and Raccoon Eyes were the worst offenders, by far, though few of their classmates were totally innocent. Something about that shark-toothed bastard drew people in. They crowded him, sprawled across him on the couch, touched his hair all the time. Kaminari in particular would sometimes just drape himself over both of Kirishima’s shoulders, and Kirishima never so much as blinked at any of it. Sometimes he’d even return some of these gestures, to Bakugou’s revulsion.
This morning was no different. Kaminari had slung himself over Kirishima’s shoulders the moment they were in the door. Kirishima pulled out a comic book and leaned back into him, opening up to a page and immediately chattering away about one of the panels.
Bakugou stomped over to his seat, pointedly facing the other direction while trying to block out the laughter and shuffling emanating from the middle of the classroom. Thankfully, before long, round face had wandered over to crowd Deku’s fucking desk; annoying, but at a minimum it served to physically shield Bakugou from the sight and sound of Ashido sitting on Kirishima’s desk and Kaminari reaching around him to nerd out the comic.
Mercifully, Aizawa was on time and Four-Eyes called everyone to sit the hell down before Bakugou blew a gasket.
Class was much quieter, with more means of distraction, but he’d be damned if Sparky didn’t find a way to still pepper in some pokes and prods and whispers. Bakugou could have destroyed his desk.
At the end of class, just before the lunch bell rang, Aizawa made an announcement.
“We’re beginning a group project this week, and you’ll be working in pairs.”
Bakugou turned to lock eyes with Kirishima, who was already looking his way. Bakugou couldn’t help but to smirk.
If there was one small bit of solace Bakugou could take, it was that in spite of all the touching, he was still Kirishima’s first choice. In everything. They sparred together, walked to class together, and—since Kamino—slept next to each other. It had started with nightmares, all stiff and utilitarian and awkward, but eventually they’d settled into something different.
“Uraraka with Jirou,” Aizawa said, snapping Bakugou’s attention back to the front, “Midoriya with Yaoyorozu, Iida with—”
Wait, they were being assigned partners? Bakugou’s face scrunched back into a scowl.
“Kirishima with Todoroki.”
Bakugou slumped back into his chair. At least it wasn’t—
“Kaminari with Bakugou.”
Damn it.
***
“Kachaaaan, wait uuup,” Kaminari called from behind him. Bakugou had stormed out of the room as soon as they’d been dismissed, not even bothering to wait for Kirishima this time. He whirled around at the sound of footsteps running to catch up.
“I told you not to fucking call me that,” he bit out, palms crackling. Kaminari gave a good-natured chuckle, unfazed, and Kirishima laughed nervously from a few paces behind. Bakugou turned to continue his walk to lunch.
“I figured we could get a jump on the assignment,” Kaminari said, falling in step with him and waving around the packet they’d been handed. “I know you go to bed at the same time as my grandpa, so we can work on it during free periods so we don’t upset your routine.”
“Call me a grandpa again and I’ll write this damn paper using your ashes,” Bakugou growled, lacking venom. He missed the days before Kamino when most of his classmates feared him. Kaminari was too damn comfortable. With everyone.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sero said, appearing on Bakugou’s other side.
“Sure it does! You could definitely use someone’s ashes to make ink,” Ashido chimed in from somewhere behind them.
Kirishima laughed, throwing an arm around Kaminari and giving him a consolatory squeeze. Bakugou growled again and batted his arm at them. “Where the fuck did you all come from? Get the hell away from me!”
His anger was met mostly with laughter, though they did do him the courtesy of giving him more space and pivoting the conversation away from him. It was better.
“So, Kirishima,” Kaminari crooned, no doubt climbing all over him back there, “you hit the jackpot with project partners! Todoroki gets great grades—”
“Oi! I did better on the damn midterm than that Icyhot bastard!”
“—aaand he’s SO KIND and EASY TO WORK WITH,” Kaminari continued pointedly. Bakugou wheeled with a renewed heat and more warning pops from his palms.
“I’m a fucking treat, Dunceface, so you had better shut the hell up!” Satisfied with the level of cowering he'd achieved, he turned back around and started walking again.
Ignoring Bakugou entirely, Ashido added, “And he’s so handsome! I’m jealous you get to spend one-on-one time with him, Kirishima. We could trade partners!” She stuck out her tongue. “I got Mineta. Bleh.”
Bakugou didn’t have a retort for that one—in fact, it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He hadn’t really considered it, but he supposed Todoroki was attractive. The girls in his class mentioned it enough.
“That’s okay, you can keep him,” Kirishima chuckled. “Todoroki’s a bro, I’m happy he’s my partner!”
Bakugou snuck a glance over his shoulder. No one was touching Kirishima, to his surprise, but they were all surrounding him, drawn to his stupid grin like shitty little moths to a flame. He tsked and turned back. They’d reached the cafeteria, so he stomped the final few paces and jerked open the door, the rest of them following him like a herd of motherless ducklings.
Once sat, Bakugou pushed his food around and groaned as the whole group settled in around him, uninvited. They left the seat just next to him empty, though, which kept him from complaining. He couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest; even all these idiots could tell Kirishima’s place was next to Bakugou.
Kirishima himself dropped into the seat soon after, arriving last with meat and rice piled high on his tray. Normally, Bakugou would have made a scathing remark about Kirishima’s eating habits, but this time he stayed quiet.
Last week, he and Kirishima kissed.
It had been brief, and Bakugou wasn’t sure who had actually kissed who. And they hadn’t spoken about it, instead falling asleep next to each other like always. But even just remembering it made Bakugou’s palms tingle, his body vibrating with energy.
“What even was the project about? I wasn’t paying attention,” Kaminari said through a mouthful of food.
“Dude, you’re hopeless,” Sero responded.
“Well!” Kaminari stabbed at his rice indignantly as he spoke, “I was too busy saying goodbye to this earthly existence after finding out I was paired with Blasty here!”
Several sets of eyes slid expectantly to Bakugou, who glowered but didn’t take the bait. “What? He’s right. I’m going to fucking kill him before this is over.”
“See?!”
“We’re supposed to create a combat dossier on our partners,” Mina said, putting down her chopsticks and pushing her tray away. “Including creating scenarios to both fight against and alongside them. So exploiting weaknesses as well as complimenting their strengths.”
“Plus early-response disaster scenarios,” Kirishima added, rice clinging to his face, “and we’ll be tested on one of the three at the end.” He sighed. “It seems like it’s gonna be super work intensive. I was kind of hoping to go do something fun this weekend, but the next week is gonna be so busy.”
“For real, there goes all our free time,” Sero said, nodding.
All our free time, Bakugou thought. Fucking great.
“Alright. So, Blasty, what are your weaknesses?”
An image of Kirishima laying next to him flashed unbidden behind his eyes. “I don’t have any damn weaknesses!” he barked, “Unless you count being surrounded by a bunch of noisy idiots.”
***
That evening, instead of retreating to his room early and studying until Kirishima joined him, Bakugou sat himself in the common room like everyone else in his class. Everyone in the common areas was paired off with their partners, except Kirishima who hovered near Kaminari and Bakugou. Todoroki was nowhere to be seen. He scanned his assignment packet but didn’t really absorb most of what was in it. A lot of instruction for what should be a relatively simple task. He needed to come up with a way to beat Kaminari in a fight, to work with Kaminari against a villain, and how to work with him in a disaster scenario. It seemed to Bakugou that Kaminari barely needed to be present for the ordeal.
But he was, unfortunately, present. And prattling on about some bullshit.
“Kachan, we’re supposed to fill out these whole profiles! I need you to answer at least some of these questions!”
“Tch. Yeah, yeah. But I’m not spoon feeding you everything,” Bakugou said, not looking up from the packet.
“What do you even mean by that?” Kaminari covered his face in his hands. “We’re supposed to work together man, c’mon!”
“We’re clearly also meant to do some digging on our own, Dunceface,” Bakugou said, finally looking over at him. He pointed to a spot on one of the pages. “Look, it’s asking for shit like ‘greatest fears’ and ‘biggest secrets.’ Even if you could trust your partner to be honest with you and give that shit up, most people aren’t even honest with themselves about that shit.”
Kaminari sat up and leaned over to look, blinking. “Wow, dude,” he said, “that was surprisingly insightful, coming from you.”
“The hell do you mean?! I’m full of insight! Always having to point out the obvious to you extras.”
Kirishima laughed. “Honestly, Kaminari, that part’s true. Bakugou is surprisingly perceptive!”
At that moment, he considered that maybe it was good that he wasn't paired with Kirishima. It would feel cruel, because Bakugou already did know these things about him, and writing out a dossier on how to exploit them felt… Well, the thought made his throat feel swollen.
Kaminari, evidently on a similar wavelength, turned to Kirishima and batted his eyelashes. “Well then could Bakugou’s bestie spill some secrets for me, hmmm?”
Kirishima shook his head, still chuckling. “Not a chance, dude. I’m not getting blown up for your grades.”
Kaminari groaned and slumped in his chair dramatically, and the doors to the common room opened behind them, putting a halt on the discussion. Todoroki, Deku, and Hagakure strode in together, cheerily chatting away. Todoroki’s gaze slid over the room, eventually landing on Kirishima. He smiled at him. Something about that pissed Bakugou off, but he decided immediately that he’d rather fight All Might himself than examine why.
“Good evening,” Todoroki said to the three of them as he approached. Bakugou tsked and looked away pointedly, which everyone ignored. “Kirishima, I apologize for being late. I got distracted talking to Midoriya. Would you mind if we worked in my room?”
“Too good for the common area, Icyhot?” Bakugou said, too quickly and too loudly.
“Not at all, if it’s preferable. But Midoriya has agreed to lend us his notes on our quirks, and I thought it might be best to review them in private. Sometimes Midoriya’s notes are… detailed.” He paused, glancing between Bakugou, simmering, and Kaminari, pouting, then added earnestly, “It may also be best if we had each other’s full attention.”
Bakugou nearly snapped his pencil, but Kirishima didn’t falter.
“Sure, man! I’m excited to see what Midoriya has on us!” he said, hopping up and leading the way to the elevator.
Bakugou watched as the elevator numbers rose, from 1 to 5, and Kaminari watched Bakugou, quickly scribbling a note in the ‘weaknesses’ section.
***
Kirishima was—predictably—not around that evening, even long after Bakugou retired from his nightmare of a work session with Dunceface. In spite of his antics, though, they managed to get a decent amount done, the accomplishment of which helped mask Bakugou’s roiling anxiety. For a while, anyway. He went to bed at the late-for-him hour of 9pm, but in lieu of sleeping he stared restlessly at the inside of his eyelids.
Waiting.
Mercifully, it was less than an hour before Kirishima let himself in and Bakugou felt his weight and heat slide into the bed next to him. He had an overwhelming impulse to talk about—or perhaps to simply repeat—the kiss from last week.
Instead, he said curtly, “Took you long enough.”
Kirishima froze for a half-second, evidently surprised that Bakugou was still awake. But, with a smile audible in his voice, he responded, “Yeah, sorry. Todoroki wasn’t joking about Midoriya’s notes.”
“Damn nerd.” Bakugou did his best to stifle the heat in his voice. He did not want to talk about shitty Deku or shitty Icyhot right now, but he also felt compelled to hide his annoyance from Kirishima.
“It’s really useful, actually.” Kirishima sidled close to Bakugou’s back. Then he draped an arm over his waist, which was new. They often woke up tangled with each other, limbs akimbo, but so far had not fallen asleep like this.
“Tch.” Bakugou thought about how Kirishima had wrapped his arm around Kaminari earlier today. That hadn’t meant anything, he was sure of it. But he wasn’t sharing Kaminari’s bed, nor was he kissing Kaminari. So this—this touching meant something, right?
Bakugou didn’t know how to reciprocate, so he simply pressed back into Kirishima very slightly to hopefully express that he approved of the new addition to their routine. Kirishima tucked his forehead against Bakugou’s shoulder, and they didn’t speak again before falling asleep.
Unfortunately, the high that spooning had brought on Monday had quickly soured as it became apparent throughout the week that this project was going to dominate their daily routines. Sparring partners for quirk training was now dictated by the assignment, as everyone had collectively decided that the best way to learn to fight both against and alongside their partners was to literally practice doing so.
Kaminari was a sheepish sparring partner, which annoyed Bakugou, but at least here he could confidently fix the issue. Within a single day, they’d developed a workable rhythm for developing team-up tactics. As much as he wanted to blow the idiot to kingdom come, Bakugou knew they’d get more out of it if Kaminari had time to build confidence around his explosions.
Still, it was exhausting, and a sharp reminder of how effortlessly he and Kirishima synergized.
Worse still, it meant he had no satisfying outlet for the inexplicable pangs of anger whenever he caught Kirishima and Todoroki working together. Kirishima was all smiles and enthusiasm and he’d even managed to make Todoroki laugh a couple times. Out loud. Wednesday evening, he’d walked in on them in the kitchen, mid-conversation.
“You can tell me if it bothers you,” Todoroki said, quietly, like there was some damn secret they were keeping.
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah. I actually kinda like it! I’ve never really—oh, hey Bakugou!”
Bakugou just glared and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge to bring to his room. “Idiots…” he muttered, once out of earshot.
It was hard to say what pissed Bakugou off more: seeing Kirishima with Todoroki, or the fact that he was pissed off in the first place. Frankly, he didn’t want to think about it at all, he just wanted to get through the hellish assignment and go back to normal. Or at least, to go back to last week, when ‘normal’ was being challenged by Kirishima’s lips on his, rather than it being challenged by Shoto-fucking-Todoroki.
“And so I’d say you can probably write that down as a strength, but put the delay in reaction time as a weakness,” Kaminari said, cracking open his bottle of water.
“Mhm,” Bakugou said, absently. He hardly needed help pinpointing Sparky’s weaknesses. The kid still fried his own brain at least twice a week in quirk training. And, try as he might not to dwell on any of it, he couldn’t help but wonder about what Kirishima had said. He actually kind of likes what?
“Aaand, also, my mother abandoned me as a child,” Kaminari continued casually. “The resulting abandonment issues cause me to break down into tears if anyone so much as walks away from me.”
“Hm.”
“So all you need to do in a fight is run away from me at top speed. I’d be done for. You can write that down.”
“Right.”
Kaminari sighed. “So about your weaknesses, Bakugou,” he said, slightly raising his volume.
“I told you I ain’t got an—”
“I wrote down ‘gets super weird when Kirishima hangs out with Todoroki’.” Kaminari chewed his pen in a feigned thoughtfulness. “Should I also add ‘daydreams about redheads during—ack!”
Bakugou lunged over at him, palms crackling, and Kaminari narrowly ducked away.
“Hey—hey! I was just joking!” He said, palms up in surrender, though he still wore an infuriatingly coy smile. “But I mean, I can’t blame you. Todoroki is, like, the complete package. Polite, traditional, good-looking—”
“Get the hell out, fuckface! We’re done tonight—I’ll fucking murder you tomorrow.” Bakugou seethed.
Kaminari gathered his things and scrambled out, grinning the whole time. “Night Kachan~!” he called, closing the door just as Bakugou threw a book right where his head had just been.
Cheeks and ears red, Bakugou shoved his face into a pillow, burning through the pillowcase with several sharp pops and a muffled scream.
By 11pm, Kirishima still hadn’t come that evening. This wasn’t totally out of the ordinary, they didn’t spend every night together. Nor did they have to. And sometimes Bakugou went to him rather than the other way around, so maybe that’s just what Kirishima had expected.
Just as he decided he’d give in and go, his phone buzzed.
Shitty Hair
11:08
Got back super late! Dont wanna wake u
11:09
See you tmrw 💪
Bakugou grunted and flung his phone to the ground. He couldn’t believe Kirishima had been in Todoroki’s fucking room this fucking late. What the hell were they even doing? This assignment was not that work intensive, and the only thing there even was to do past curfew in someone else’s room was—
Bakugou pressed his singed pillow into his face, unable to evade the reality of the situation any longer. He wanted Kirishima in his room so they could sleep and touch and maybe even kiss and that was the exact same reason he did NOT want Kirishima to be in Todoroki’s room. Because if Kirishima did those things with Bakugou, then he was clearly into guys and there was nothing Bakugou could offer that Todoroki couldn’t, but there was plenty Todoroki could offer that Bakugou couldn’t.
There was no avoiding it. Even Kaminari, using all four of his brain cells, had been able to put together:
Bakugou was jealous.
***
Class the next day was a bleary drag. Bakugou had not slept nearly at all, and his mood was all the worse for it. Even Kirishima had obviously taken note, doing a double-take when Bakugou had stepped out of his room. He had the decency not to say anything about it, at least.
He kept his head bracketed in his arms throughout the morning, ignoring the puddle of idiots towards the heart of the classroom.
By the time they hit Gym Gamma, Bakugou was eager to blast something to pieces. Particularly, something blonde and stupid. As they geared up, he shouldered Kaminari and reminded him he was going to die for yesterday.
“Kiddie gloves are off, Sparky.” And he meant it. He was quick and relentless—though, frustratingly, Kaminari kept up better than he’d anticipated, delivering a quick tase that gave him time to create distance. Bakugou went airborne, as keeping out of line of his disks grew more difficult as the battle went on, getting in close was a risk, and touching him was a non-starter. Bakugou had much better combat acuity, though, so finding an opening was just a matter of—
“Ah, like this. Let me show you.” Todoroki’s voice hooked Bakugou’s attention. He looked over, eyes immediately locking on the red-and-white shocks of hair a few meters away. It was only a glance—Todoroki standing flush behind Kirishima, hands on his arms as he adjusted his stance. And Bakugou swore he could see a creep of pink across Kirishima’s cheeks.
Before he could process the scene any further, Kaminari’s voice called out, “Yo! Focus!” followed by a crack of electricity and the searing pain of his muscles contracting involuntarily.
Bakugou let out a yell and plummeted several feet to the ground with a thud. When he sat up, he came face-to-face with Kaminari’s hand, offering him help to his feet. Kaminari was smirking, an eyebrow raised high. “Guess I was spot-on with that weakness, eh?”
Bakugou swatted his hand away, anger rising white hot, rivaled only by a surge of embarrassment. He growled but held his tongue, hopping to his feet and stalking off to the locker rooms. Kaminari jogged after, intercepting Aizawa as he came to investigate.
“I got lucky, but it was kind of a cheap shot,” he heard Kaminari explain. Aizawa listened, but Bakugou knew his eyes were locked on him, and that he’d probably get a talk from his teacher later. “I think he might have hit his head. Didn’t even yell at me or anything!”
The kindness Kaminari was doing him didn’t go unnoticed, either, though at the moment Bakugou couldn’t decide if it made up for the ‘cheap shots’ or if it ultimately just pissed him off more. He threw his costume forcefully to the ground as he peeled it off, cursing under his breath.
He couldn’t stop replaying what he’d seen. Or, what he thought he’d seen. Had that dumb bastard actually been blushing? It’d happened so fast, Bakugou honestly wasn’t sure, but the thought of it made his vision pulse. He was so preoccupied that he hadn’t heard anyone come in after him, so when Kaminari stood in the locker room as Bakugou stepped out of the shower, he faltered.
“The fuck do you want?”
Kaminari’s eyebrows curved down in that maddening way Bakugou recognized as concern—no, pity—and he felt his palms tingle. He stalked over to his locker and flung it open, putting the door between them as he dropped his towel and got dressed.
“You know, I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re actually mad and when you’re just using it to keep people away.”
Bakugou froze. The hell? “What are you, my damn therapist?” He tugged on his shirt and slammed the locker door shut. “You need a fucking pat on the back or some shit? Get away from me.”
Kaminari didn’t move. Thoughtfully, he said, “You’re also way less scary now that I’ve been forced to spend the week with you.” His grin softened a bit. “Have you, like… talked to Kirishima?”
“Have you become suicidal?” The words lacked bite, though, as though Bakugou had physically run out of anger.
“Haha, right, stupid question.” Kaminari stepped back to let Bakugou walk past. He called after him as he left, “Anyway, I told Aizawa that you hit your head and that you’d go to Recovery Girl. If you don’t, just let me know or something so I can cover for you.”
Bakugou considered the possibility that he had hit his head, given that he couldn’t bring himself to explode Dunceface for any part of what had transpired over the last 20 minutes. He then decided on going to the infirmary anyway, if for no other reason than having somewhere to be where other people weren’t.
Recovery Girl was just stepping out when he arrived, so she instructed him to wait in a chair. Bakugou obliged, happy that this would take longer than it needed. It took a bit of concentration, but he found he was able to still his mind and avoid thinking about anything by focusing on the tick-tick-tick of the analog clock hung on the wall behind him. He could have fallen asleep to it, even, after the day he’d had.
Unfortunately, the respite was short-lived. After a few minutes, Bakugou could hear a set of footsteps approaching from the hallway, and let out a frustrated sigh. He looked up and—
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said. In the doorway stood Shoto-fucking-Todoroki, looking around the empty infirmary with that infuriating vacant expression. His gaze then slid to Bakugou.
“Good. You’re here,” he said.
“Fucking great,” Bakugou parroted, “you’re here.”
“Kirishima wanted to check on you,” Todoroki continued, taking a seat next to Bakugou along the wall. Bakugou reflexively craned around to look at the doorway, but no one was there.
Todoroki’s lips tugged up at the corners into the barest of smirks, which looked alien on his face. Clearly proud of himself, he said, “I sent him to grab you some water. As a diversion.”
“What the hell for?!” Bakugou snapped.
“I am doing reconnaissance,” he replied, suddenly very serious again. He leaned in closer. Bakugou flinched away.
"Kirishima is fond of you. Did you know that?"
"The hell? I—do you want to die?" he sputtered. Was this shit really so obvious to everyone other than him?
"On the contrary. I am looking for weaknesses of his."
"What is that supposed to mean? I ain't anyone's damn weakness!" Bakugou leapt from his seat, little pops tickling his palms.
Todoroki nodded, ignoring the physical threat. "Hm. That’s too bad. It has been quite difficult, because his reaction time and the nature of his quirk make him difficult to penetrate."
Bakugou’s mind blanked. Rage, confusion, white-hot embarrassment, all crawled up from his gut through his chest into his throat, locking up his voice as he attempted to have every thought and none all at once.
Todoroki did not seem to notice, instead folding in on himself. He looked at the ceiling and mused, earnestly, "Although… it seems you actually helped him develop that, so I suppose to your credit that would make you one of his strengths…"
"I'm going to fucking murder you if you do not walk away from me right now."
Todoroki considered this, then stood. "Okay. This was informative, thank you.”
Bakugou ground his teeth together, and he slumped back in the chair as Todoroki waved pleasantly and exited, passing Recovery Girl on the way out.
“Sorry for that, dear,” she crooned, placing a stack of papers on a nearby desk. “What was it you said was the matter? A headache?”
Bakugou huffed. More like a damn aneurysm, he thought, and I don’t think your ass is gonna fix it, old lady. And if Kirishima showed up here smiling like an idiot after Icyhot’s stupid water errand he might actually demolish this entire building. So instead, he said, “Yeah, might have bumped it or some shit. I’m fine.”
She let him go with little fuss, and Bakugou stalked off, towards the dorms. At least the school day was done now.
***
Shitty Hair
15:08
You good? I came to the infirmary15:09
fine15:11
Denks is trying to get a group to go to dinner
Said we should all take a break
Mina says u put the fear into him 😂15:16
didnt do shit to him15:16
I take it ur not going?15:17
👎
15:21
Is it cool if I come up then?
Todoroki’s going with the others
Bakugou stared at his screen for a long moment, mouth pinched into a tight frown. He was already out of his uniform, grey sweats and a black t-shirt. He definitely wanted Kirishima to come over. It felt good that Kirishima asked to come over. But he was also still bitter about last night, and about this afternoon. He didn’t want to sit in the same room as Kirishima and try not to be a total asshole. And he definitely did not want to sit and talk about any of this shit.
The phone in his hand buzzed again.
Pikachu
15:28
I’m only doing this if you talk to him
Otherwise I’m coming up 😘15:28
🖕
Bakugou typed out a quick ‘do what you want’ to Kirishima and tossed his phone on the bed. He wanted to plan Kaminari’s demise, but he was grateful for the break from spending another evening wondering what Kirishima could possibly be doing in Todoroki’s room—especially now that he had the image of those two idiots touching and fucking blushing carved into the depths of his psyche.
His phone buzzed a few more times on the bed, but Bakugou ignored it. He figured he’d take whatever time he had between now and Kirishima getting there to work on the ‘versus’ section of his dossier. Kaminari had fared far better today than Bakugou had anticipated, and now that the frustration had worn off, he found himself a bit more engaged in the idea of actually creating a plan for him.
If he’d been thinking straight, he would have blasted the disks right away. He was fast enough that he probably could have done it midair, like shooting clays. He wondered if Kaminari would have an answer for that at all.
It was a little over an hour before there was finally a knock at his door. It was confident, familiar, definitely Kirishima, but Bakugou’s lip curled at it. They had been well past the point of knocking for a while.
“Just come in you idiot,” he called. The doorknob turned and Kirishima stepped in, wearing that stupid white headband Bakugou liked way too much. He looked sheepish.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Bakugou said, returning his attention to his paper after a brief appraisal.
“Oh, uh,” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck and sat on the bed. “Nothing. I thought maybe you’d fallen asleep.”
Bakugou turned in his chair to look at him incredulously. “It’s fucking 5pm. Why the hell would I be asleep?”
Kirishima chuckled. Why was he being so fucking awkward? Bakugou’s chest clenched. Was there something he wasn’t saying? Or something he wanted to say?
Something he wanted to admit to?
“No, I just—I noticed how tired you were today. I thought maybe you’d—I mean, I could tell you hadn’t slept well last night.”
Bakugou didn’t respond. No shit, he hadn’t slept well. But he’d never been in bed this early just because of a poor night’s sleep.
“And you stopped answering your phone, so,” Kirishima offered, evidently reading his confusion. “Look, I’m sorry. You could have texted me.”
“Texted you about what?”
“Last night. Nightmares? Isn’t that what kept you up?” Kirishima’s brow furrowed. “It had just been so long, I thought—”
“I didn’t have any nightmares,” Bakugou said, turning to finish his notes for his dossier, hoping Kirishima would be dissuaded from pulling that particular thread.
“Oh…? Okay,” Kirishima said slowly, relief mixed with confusion in his voice. He stood up and stepped behind Bakugou, reading over his shoulder.
“Oh! Man, I’ve been wanting to ask you about how this was going. Kaminari thought Aizawa had it out for him when he paired you guys,” Kirishima chuckled.
“That makes two of us,” Bakugou said wryly.
“He actually landed a decent hit on you today, too. I couldn’t believe it!”
“Why are you so fucking noisy?” Bakugou snapped. He regretted it immediately.
“Aw, c’mon man, no need to be sour about it—” Kirishima reached out to squeeze Bakugou’s shoulder.
Igniting at the touch, Bakugou jerked his arm away and sprung up, chair scraping loudly on the floor behind him. Kirishima stumbled back, a reproachful look quickly replacing the shock.
“What the hell is up with you, Bakugou?” he demanded. “Whatever it is, just say it. You cannot seriously be this upset about getting zapped—”
“Haah? Zapped? You think I’m upset Sparky landed a damn hit for the first time in his life?” Bakugou slammed his hand on the desk, tiny explosions crackling under it, emitting a faint smell of acrid smoke from the blackened finish. “The only reason I got ‘zapped’ in the first place was because I was distracted watching you swoon with Icyhot’s hands all over you!”
Kirishima’s head reeled back. “What—”
“And aside from the fact you were in his room until way the hell past curfew—which I can’t even fucking be mad about given where you spend every other fucking night—I get cornered in the damn infirmary by him, calling me your—your god damn weakness—”
“—Bakugou, wait—”
“Don’t even get me started on all the fucking giggling and laughing and walking in on hushed conversations about what you ‘like’—”
“Tea, Bakugou.”
“And Dunceface had the fucking audacity to—” Bakugou paused. “What did you say?”
Eyes wide, Kirishima shook his head and gave a little flourish with his hands, as though saying something incredibly obvious. “You walked in on a conversation about tea. Todoroki was excited to have someone to serve it to, and he kept offering me new kinds to try.”
Bakugou blinked. A ghost of a smile pulled at Kirishima’s lips, dousing his fire entirely.
“You—you’re,” Bakugou faltered. After a moment, he added lamely, “We kissed.”
Softening, Kirishima screwed up his face and pulled on his own shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe we should have talked about that sooner.”
I don’t want to talk about it, Bakugou thought, I want to fucking do it again. Instead, he said, “Todoroki is—Pinky said… And Dunceface.” Bakugou grumbled reluctantly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “Most people who are into guys would be way more interested in kissing Todoroki than kissing me.”
“Oh, I’m not—I mean sure, Todoroki’s popular, and I guess he’s pretty good looking—But I don’t think I’m really into guys,” Kirishima said, his expression unreadable. “I have always liked girls, I mean. I’m really—I think I’m mostly just… into you?”
“You’re…” Bakugou’s brow knitted together. He suddenly felt naked, exposed. Uncomfortable. “So you weren’t fucking blushing earlier?”
“Ah, well,” Kirishima smiled, abashed, and averted his eyes. “No, I probably was blushing. But it’s not what you think! You see, Todoroki caught me…” His gaze flitted back up to Bakugou. “Looking at you. During practice.”
“At me.” Bakugou felt like he could have fallen through the floor. What a fucking idiot, he thought, though he wasn’t sure which one of them he meant.
Kirishima laughed. “Yeah, man, he totally called me out right then and there, too. Breezed right past it, though, but then I was totally off my game so he was trying to help me position better…”
“Why?”
“Huh? Why, what?”
“Why the hell were you looking at me?”
Kirishima’s face flushed. “I mean, I was kinda keeping an eye on you all day—you were tired and I was a little worried—but during training, I kind of…” He trailed off, staring at the ceiling.
Bakugou smirked. “You kind of what, Shitty Hair?”
“Oh, shut up dude, don’t make me say it.”
Bakugou held his gaze, still smirking.
“I kind of like how you look when you fight, all right?” Kirishima punched his arm playfully. “Sue me, I gu—”
Bakugou smashed his mouth into Kirishima’s, cutting him off. Kirishima kissed back, choking down a surprised sound. Their first kiss had been soft, slight, as though by barely touching they could maintain plausible deniability. This time, Bakugou wanted to feel Kirishima’s lips, to remember in an hour or in a week precisely how they felt. He wanted to taste him as well as feel him.
He pulled back and looked at Kirishima, face flushed, dazed eyes. There was a half-beat where they just stared, neither of them any better than last time at knowing what to do after a kiss.
“I’m the fucking same,” Bakugou said, “I guess.” Kirishima laughed, and they settled for going down to make food and not talking about it for the rest of the night.
After eating, they retreated back to Bakugou’s room before the others came back and put on a movie. It was some dumb American action film Kirishima had suggested. It didn’t really interest him, but Bakugou frankly didn’t care. When they settled in to watch, Kirishima wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s waist, and Bakugou kissed him again, just to make sure.
When the credits finally rolled, he looked down to find Kirishima already asleep. He rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, placing it on the floor next to the bed so as not to disturb the arms thrown over him. He gingerly adjusted the two of them to make sure he could sleep and Kirishima’s arm wasn’t going to fall asleep, and he sighed deeply.
The week’s events seemed distant all of the sudden, stupid and small rather than catastrophic and agonizing. He thought about how Icyhot had deadpanned ‘Kirishima is fond of you’ earlier that day and how much stupider it was, in retrospect, knowing that he had literally puzzled it together maybe ten minutes prior because Kirishima was fucking oggling him.
He also replayed Kirishima’s words in his head.
“I have always liked girls, I mean. I’m really—I think I’m mostly just… into you?”
He allowed himself a smile. The stupid thought lingered as he drifted toward sleep.
But just before sleep fully claimed him, his eyes snapped back open. Wait. He’s into girls?
Bakugou stared at the ceiling, thinking about every time he hugged Raccoon Eyes and spun her around the room. Or how he’d wanted to study with Ponytail and Ears.
So Kirishima mostly liked girls, and Bakugou was mostly an exception…
Fuck.