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Kirishima Eijirou has been sick all his life.
When he joins UA, he takes advice from his mother. Start new, fake it till you make it. He dyes his hair, chops some of it off, changes his whole wardrobe, and buys new notebooks, pens, phone cases, and shoes. He faked being someone else because if he was himself he would surely fail.
Kirishima has never been happier. He comes 2nd in the entrance exam. He's fast, he's strong, he's smart. He studies, he sleeps well, and he eats healthily. Eijirou Kirishima is doing well. And then;
“Kirishima.” Pink hair. Dark eyes. Well, Fuck.
“Ashido.” Kirishima's smile turns to a grimace. He grabs his wrist, a dull nail scratching gently. Soothing, he thinks.
“You look…” She's gripping her bag straps like they might run away, leaving her to deal with this uncomfortable conversation alone.
“Different? Yeah, I– I changed my hair over the summer. How have you been?” He touches his spikes self-consciously.
“Good! Yeah, I've been really good.” She smiles, hands gesturing awkwardly.
Kirishima walks to the train very quickly. His mind is going a million miles a minute. Mina Ashido, of fucking course someone from middle school was here.
–
“Wait… Eijirou is in the ER?”
“Yeah, well, he was at the hospital on Friday. Someone said it was on purpose.” Two girls gossip, voices just above a whisper. Mina's eyes widen.
“What was on purpose?” She blurts, mind racing. The girls jump, looking at her, eyes dark.
“Oh um… It's not really my place to say, since I don't know all the details. But apparently, he had a seizure on Friday night. Some sort of medicine fuck up.” A hand flies to her mouth. Mina turns away after that, mumbling a quick, thanks for telling me before she walks home. When she gets there, she falls to the floor, and her father rushes over.
She has never cried harder in her life.
–
Rescue training.
Kirishima's hands won't stop sweating. He forgot to take his meds this morning. If he had Bakugos quirk this place would go sky high with just a spark. When he reaches to untie some rope from around a dummy's body, he can feel the sweat drip from his armpits. His senses are in overdrive, he locks in on all noises, grunts, and creaks.
The piece of fabric on the webbing of his thumb won't stop rubbing uncomfortably. It's red, raw, and painful. He thinks about taking it off and then thinks better of it.
The dummies for this training are heavy. They all weigh differently, however, most are above 100 pounds. Rarely do they find child dummies, usually no heavier than 80 pounds.
This one is 180 pounds. Kirishima grabs the fake person and throws them on his shoulder one-handed.
“Up you go!” He mumbles before throwing the sack on him. Jirou gapes, and then smiles,
“Nice dude, maybe I should be working out with you instead of Denki.” Kirishima laughs.
Yeah, he was good at this. Red Riot, the sturdy hero. He's strong, trustworthy, reliable. He could do this. He is doing this.
“STOP!” A scream causes Kirishima's head to whip to the side.
The training site they are on has 3 large buildings. Each building holds a different scenario. Their building was collapsing, which was easy to handle. He, Jirou, Sato, Tsuyu, and Mineta were in charge of the collapsing building, building number 2. There were 3 groups.
Bakugo, Momo, Mina, and Shouji take Building 3. Kirishima stares at the building, a sick feeling in his stomach. His gut tells him something is wrong, and a dangerous part of him makes his foot twitch in the direction of a certain blonde.
“Hey, Jirou!” She stands from where she was helping Tsu. Her head turns in his direction.
“Im advancing to help Momos group.” Jirou raises her hand, a thumbs-up held high to the sky. Kirishima turns and sprints off in the direction of explosions. The building isn't too tall, but based on the screaming coming from the 3rd floor, he decides to forgo the stairs. He could do this.
He jumps on the wall, hardening his hands, and climbs. He looks like a spider monkey, or like a spider man. He has to climb quickly, otherwise, the grip he has on the wall will crumble and he will fall.
An open window is about 10 feet above him, and he leaps to grab the edge, pulling himself through easily.
His brain goes into autopilot. Assess the issue. The building is in an office setting. He jumps through the window into some kind of conference room. There are large plants in the corner, and all of them are dying. He notices a leak in the ceiling, and muddy water dripping onto the carpet. His eyes narrow in on the puddle, it's bubbling, but it appears to just be water. A light bulb goes off in his head. He remembers a lesson Mr. Aizawa gave him a couple of weeks back. Ah, that's why everyone screaming.
“BAKUGO, CUT IT OUT!” A voice screams from down the hall. A burning anger fills Eijirous chest.
For being the smartest guy Kirishima knows, he’s pretty fucking stupid.
Kirishima breaks down the door separating him from the group. Everyone turns to him. Bakugo has his hands up, about to detonate a robot, its mechanical red eye looks his way. It's not aggressive, but if it's touched, Eijirou is sure it would have triggered some sort of command.
“What the fuck is going on, you guys were supposed to be done 4 minutes ago.”
“Mind your fucking business Shitty Hair!” Bakugo screams, and just before he lets his sweat catch, Kirishima has his hand in a vice grip, bending his wrist back. He doesn't break it, but Bakugo screams anyway. Kirishima's eyes scan the room. There are wires, everywhere, giving power to whatever is behind the door the robot is guarding. This means that the civilians are in this room, held hostage by explosive gas and some sort of electrical system. God, Aizawa was such a dickhead. He's a good teacher, but a dickhead.
In 2 seconds, Kirishima comes up with a plan. This room has a steel door, an electrical robot guarding it, and an explosive boy next to him who is shaking out of anger.
If Kirishima smashes this robot, it with 100% spark, and the building will explode. If Kirishima throws this robot and smashes open the door, he could trigger whatever these wires are giving power to. If he has Mina melt the robot, it will spark. If he has Shouji punch through the wall, the robot will be triggered. Fuck, this was stressful.
Kirishima has decided. “Mina, melt the door. Momo, I need you to be my backup, and Shouji,” Kirishima turns to speak to him.
“Grab Bakugo.”
“Wha-” Bakugos next words are muffled as Shouji wraps his arms around the blond and jumps out the window.
Mina has the door melted when Kirishima turns around. He speaks through. He was right. Wires of all thickness and color are connected to one large box. At the top of the box, sits a comically small lighter. It's ticking menacingly. Kirishima snorts.
“Man, Aizawa hates you guys huh? All we had was a collapsed building and y'all got the explosion quirk mixed with a gas leak. Shit, I do not envy you-”
“Kirishima! Focus!” Momo snaps.
“Right, okay.” Kirishima's eyes go to the robot. “I'm gonna do something, and when I do it, you both need to run.” They nod, gazes steely.
Kirishima runs towards the robot, and just before the thing can grab him, he dodges and jumps through the hole made by Mina into the other room. He grabs both dummies and fuck they’re heavy.
A loud ticking sounds in the room. Fuck.
“Self-destruct in 3…”
Kirishima looks at the window in front of him.
“2….”
He stands, smiling.
“1.”
He jumps, twisting his body and bracing for impact.
BOOM!
Kirishima lands on something soft, bouncing very slightly. Backup.
Kirishima lets himself relax, checking the dummies. Mina pulls one dummy off of him, bridal carrying the sack. Momo does the same, pretending to check vitals. He looks up at the building, staring at the blown-out windows and black smoke. He turns his head.
Shouji is next to him. Empty-handed. A hand snaps into view.
“OOF!” An explosion hits him in the stomach.
“You IDIOT! I HAD IT HANDLED!” Bakugo screams, holding his wrist. Kirishima tries to twist his hand out of his grip and gets another explosion to the face this time. He laughs, really laughs.
Aizawa is annoyed he helped the other crew but doesn't dock points. Bakugos wrist is bruised and Kirishima feels terrible.
“Bakugo, I put you in that group for a reason. If Kirishima wasn't there, you would have lost all points.” Kirishima's chest warms. He saved them. He saved them from Bakugo, but he still saved them!
And even more than that, he helped. He was smart, decisive, and moved when it mattered. Kirishima's smile doesn't go away all day. When he gets back to the command room where a whole bunch of monitors are hooked up, Group 1 is already waiting for them. Everyone cheers as he enters.
“So cool dude!” Denki shouts.
Izuku walks up to him, eyes wide, notebook clutched to his chest. “I wasn’t aware your quirk gave you enhanced physical strength.”
“It doesn’t. That was all me.” He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. Midoriyas eyes widen, and he quickly scribbles more in his book. Iida runs over, congratulating him.
“I was very impressed how quickly you figured out the gas leak, we were all very worried Bakugos group would fail.” Kirishima blushes.
He chances a glimpse to his left, a certain blonde is leaning on the wall, staring at him. He thinks he sees his ears turn pink before he walks out of the room. Weirdo.
--
Bakugo Katsuki is not stalking him, he decides to tell himself. After their strange rescue training incident, Kirishima noticed how Bakugo sticks weirdly close now.
Sure, they were friends, but this was—This was weird. He gets a shot of electricity to his heart whenever he catches the blonde staring (which is quite often).
“So. . . training camp, huh?” Kirishima says one day at lunch. Sero snorts a laugh. Bakugo is sitting with them. Kirishimas sweating, which is weird, since he knows he took his meds.
—
It's his first year at UA. He should be ready for anything. Resilient to anything. However;
Kamino ruins him.
Kirishima can't stop thinking about Bakugo. Going to save him wasn't the smartest thing, but it was the most logical at the time. He's sitting on his bed, the only light in the room comes from the crack under his door. He has his mouth pressed to his arms, knees pulled to his chest. His hair is flat against his face. Tears run down his face, cold.
He was so scared. So scared, he almost couldn't move. What if he didn’t? What if he just stood there, frozen, until eventually Bakugo got too slow, too weak, and fell? Burned. Turned to dust. Stabbed. Anything.
He thinks about how he moved, how he reached out a hand. How he called out to him, even though he felt like he was going to throw up. Even though he felt like his voice wouldn't work.
He thinks about calloused hands, and the noise their hands made when Bakugo took him. Loud, sweaty, and strong. He tries to remember the feeling.
Kirishima rubs his thumb on his arm, head tilting to the side. That night he dreams of falling.
—
Dorms. Kirishima Eijirou is cooked.
Kirishima buys new room decor. If he moved all his posters and his bed sheets someone would be bound to see at some point. The dark skull sheets make him feel queasy thinking of Red Riot enjoying such a thing. He gets a new clock, new sheets, new posters.
Kirishima sits in his new room. He made sure to pack lots of long-sleeved compression shirts. He wears them under all his short-sleeved shirts. Bakugo is one room over. He thinks that's just his luck.
He thinks about his mom. He thinks about med fuck ups. He thinks about fuck ups in general. He glances at his desk. An obnoxious orange bottle stares back at him.
“Fuuuck.” Two hands pressed to his face.
Fuck indeed.
—
It’s their first year at UA, and Kirishima and Bakugo hang out at least twice a day. Whether he’s walking him to class, or coming over to watch a movie, it doesn’t matter. As long as they are together, Kirishima is having fun. Bakugo isn’t much of a talker at school. He only really joins in on the conversation to correct someone or to tell someone he hates them.
However, alone? Alone, Bakugo Katsuki is quite chatty.
They are sitting on Kirishimas' bed, watching some American movie. Bakugo complains that he hates subtitles, but halfway through Kirishima looks over to see him completely entranced.
When they finally get to the end, Bakugo has tears in his eyes. Kirishima has tears in his eyes, mouth, and probably his ears from looking up to try and stop them from falling.
“Fuck.” Bakugo says wetly, mouth quivering. Kirishima lets out a comical waile like a child, but it breaks into a chuckle.
“Oh my god, that was so good.” Kirishima is smiling. It wasn’t a sad ending, more bittersweet than anything. Bakugo sniffles and Kirishima shoots a look at him, smiling.
Bakugo looks back at him, red eyes shining. His eyes are gorgeous in the TV’s light. Kirishima stares at him and watches as Bakugos quivering lips turn to bubbling laughter. Red shines purple when he tilts his head just right. Kirishima can’t look away.
“Jesus, we are such a mess,” He wipes his own eyes, and then gasps, pointing a finger at Kirishima's face. “Don’t tell ANYONE about this.” Kirishima smiles.
“Of course, I won’t.” He mumbles, sincerity in the words. Kirishima's hands grip the blanket, gaze fond as it runs up and down Bakugos face.
“That was really good.” He agrees, staring at the credits, red eyes unaware of the lingering looks.
“Yeah, I wish it didn't end.” Kirishima comments. Bakugos eyebrows scrunch, and he looks down at his hands.
A breath, and then.
“Nothing ever really ends.” Kirishima stares. What?
Bakugo gulps. He's fidgeting, obviously nervous to be sharing the sentiment.
How strange was this? Bakugo Katsuki was always so thorough, logical, and exact. Yet here he was, spouting some…idea. Throw away thought.
Kirishima's heart soared.
“What do you mean?”
Bakugo leans back on the pillows, deciding to fiddle with Kirishima's phone charm. It's a cute little roll of sushi. Bakugo traces the lines in the design.
“People never stop experiencing. Even after they are dead, the experience is passed on to the next person. It’s like never-ending energy. Reincarnation. It doesn’t even matter if it’s a person. Those who die alone will be remembered by the place they died, remembered by the things they did.” Bakugo sighs, lips pursed.
“I dunno— Even the movie, like…” He pauses. Kirishima hums.
“In my head, It doesn't- It doesn't hold an end, because I just don't want it to.” His voice is gruff, comically deep for his light, airy thoughts.
Kirishima doesn't really get it, but he sure as hell isn't telling Bakugo that.
After a moment of silence that stretches a second too long, Bakugo clears his throat.
“That was stupid, I just meant, you shouldn't be sad about an ending that isn't ever going to come.” Wow, poetic. A smile peels at Kirishima's lips, like a ripe orange or a satisfying sticker.
“It's not stupid if it's how you feel.” Kirishima lifts his hand and drops it on Bakugo's head, ruffling his hair once, and withdrawing the hand before Bakugo can push it away.
“Anyway, wanna play a game or, somethin’?” Bakugo smirks.
“Always.”
–
In their second year at UA, and getting a hero license opens doors for Kirishima he didn't think it would. Working with Fatgum is incredible.
He saves people, he makes the right decisions, and he makes the wrong ones. He doesn’t fall to pieces every time he makes the wrong call, maybe every 1 out of 7 times.
He has plans to go out with Bakugo and Denki after this. All three of them are on patrol duty tonight. It's 7 pm when he gets the call. Villain, westbound, quirk unknown. Calling any available units to stop him.
Kirishima finds him in 6 minutes. He calls out, holding the earpiece gently. “This is Red Riot, I have a visual on the westbound villain, quirk unknown. Subject has grey hair, middle age, male-” He grunts, dodging a thrown beer bottle. It shatters behind him. “Subject is violent. Requesting backup.” He lets go of the earpiece. The man laughs at his struggle.
Kirishima twists out of an outstretched grasp. He hardens a hand and aims a punch at his face. The man dodges and- turns to run. “Subject is running,” He lets go of the earpiece. “Why do they always run?”
The man throws trash cans and cuts corners, but Kirishima keeps pace. A voice in his ear picks up.
“Dynamight to Red Riot, we might be able to intercept you guys, are you still Westbound on Jaku?” Kirishima smirks. Bakugo Katsuki.
“Affirmative!”
“We're waiting for you on Phoenix.” 2 more blocks. Light work. “Has his quirk been identified?”
“Negative, he hasn't even given me a clue. It may involve contact.”
Kirishima gasps as the man suddenly changes direction, sprinting across the street to- to a woman.
“Fuck! No, you don't!” A hand to his ear. “Kat–, I need you with me.” He calls, running to grab the man. The guy is smiling like a maniac. His eyes are blown, pupils black. He's on something, Kirishima thinks. A loud pop! resounds down the street somewhere. Bakugo is on his way. Something smacks against his head, shattering on contact. It was most likely another bottle. His earpiece falls out. Before he can see where it went, he steps on it. Crunch! Great.
The man reaches a hand to the woman, and just when his fingers graze her blouse Kirishima grabs him by the collar, shoving him to the ground. He lands a solid punch, knocking him out before everything starts to fade away.
Fuck. He's out for about 4 seconds before he comes back. Bakugo crouches down next to him. He can see him mouth something, Get up. But he can't hear it. His vision twists, Bakugos face blurring into nothing. A weird high flows over Eijirou for a total of 3 seconds before his chest starts to rumble.
Oh, he thinks.
He is having a Seizure. Kirshimas mind races. The first thing he thinks, however, is
This is so fucking embarrassing.
He chances the look to his left where the villain is out cold, foaming at the mouth. His vision goes out right as he feels his throat close and his arms shaking.
–
Eijirou? Eijirou-
He remembers his mom finding him. He remembers her look of terror. He was sitting there, alone in his room before she found him. He passed out once. Twice. Then he started shaking. She finds him like that. Head banging against the wall.
He wasn't wearing a shirt.
He remembers that being his last thought that night.
–
When he wakes up, he's still on the ground, except now there's police tape and more people. He sees colors before the shapes.
Yellow. Red. Blonde. Red. Hair.
Orange. Red. Blue. Red. Flashing.
In an unnaturally clear, commanding voice, he speaks.
“You need to hold my head still. It's going to happen again, I can tell.” Tears roll down his cheeks. Be strong. “Fuck, Eijirou. Please don't.” A watery voice cries. He doesn't hear it. He can’t hear anything.
He thinks to himself; I'm supposed to be strong, unwavering. Unbreakable. Here he is, on the cement, scared shitless. Fuck, he's so scared.
Bakugo has a hand on his head. The other is pulling his sleeve up, pressing a thumb to his wrist—
Kirishima sits up, pushing the blonde away. His stomach churns and he vomits, barely turning his head in time to keep it off Bakugo. Something is very wrong. He spits and pulls his wrist to his chest.
“Don't touch me.” He tries to yell, but it's weak. Weak, and scary. Bakugos eyes widened. Kirishima cant make out his expression. He hasn't seen it yet. He tries to swallow, but he can't. His vision twists.
“Fuuuuck, not again. Katsuki-” He tries to breathe. Yellow. Red. Yellow. Blonde. His vision goes and then comes back again. It's like he's looking through static. He looks at Bakugos face and glances a look behind. He sees his mother, a hand to her mouth.
Eijirou? Eijirou– , She calls.
He sees his arms, bare, covered in—
He passes out.
–
When he wakes up, Fatgum is standing over him, His head fucking hurts. White light.
“You know they should really make a law about these lights. I feel like I'm wakin’ up on the other side.” His voice croaks, chuckling. Fatgum flinches, frowning.
Kirishima gets a weird feeling of deja vu.
“Did you call my mom?” He asks, swallowing painfully. Fatgum nods. “She's in the waiting room, we had her wait in case you…” Kirishima's eyes widen.
“How many times?” Fatgum clears his throat.
“Three. Including the one from last night.”
Time stops for a moment.
During that time, he realizes some things.
He is not strong enough. Not strong enough to protect Bakugo from seeing him, Not strong enough to withstand that guy's weird ass quirk, not strong enough to keep his mother from worrying. Not strong. Not enough.
He isn't wearing a shirt.
Wait– What?
He looks down at the IVs, and the patches, and panics. The scars are bright against his tan skin. Fatgum sees them. Who else saw it? How many nurses saw this? How many fucking classmates saw this?
He rips out the IVs quickly, sitting up. Multiple machines begin beeping. Fatgum rushes to stop him, hold him down, but he’s pushed off.
“Don't FUCKING touch me.” He orders, voice raw. He hates how it cracks at the end. Fatgum moves forward. Kirishima pushes him again, weakly.
“Don't! Don't, Do not—” He breaks into a sob, letting Fatgum pull him into a hug. Fuck. Fuck.
He should've let someone else take the call. He should've gone home early and waited for Denki and Bakugo to get off. Could've gone to dinner, and had a lot of fun. He cries harder.
“Did he see?” He doesn't say who. The machines are still beeping.
Fatgum doesn't answer, just hugs him tighter.
His mother rushes in a moment later and finds them like that. She's crying, pulls him in for a hug, sitting on the bed with him, letting her son cry into her shirt. Fatgum leaves and closes the door behind him. Black hair gets in Kirishima's mouth. Kirishima cries so hard he thinks he screams at some point.
His mother sits, patiently. She doesn't say anything.
“It wasn't on purpose mom, It wasn't-.” He sounds so young. He's still just a kid.
And to her, he's still just her baby. Her baby boy. The same boy back in middle school she found in that dark room. She cries.
“I know, I know.” She holds his head.
–
He was discharged a day later. The guy's quirk involved him injecting others with some kind of opioid with just a touch. He was high and willing to send a lethal dose to anyone too close. Kirishima got lucky, the doctor said.
Amijiki comes to visit him, having been on duty when it happened. He says he didn't see what happened, but he heard about it. Kirishima cracked his skull on the concrete after pushing Bakugo away. Amijiki says he was almost on the news but Bakugo exploded 3 cameras to keep it from happening.
“Said something about how being on the news would make you ‘too cocky’.” Kirishima chuckles. Yeah, I don't think that's why he did it, he thinks.
“Do you know if anyone came to visit while I was out?” Who saw him? Who saw? Please know. Please tell me.
“Fatgum said it was just some Pink-haired girl and Bakugo. Your mom was there the whole time, but nurses rushed her out when… Yaknow. Other than those three, and Fatgum, I came once.” He looks at the bed, fiddling with a string. His hair covers his eyes. Kirishima sucks in a breath, chest aching.
“Mina brought you this really ugly blanket though, covered in colorful cartoon bears. She said it was your favorite. I think she was lying.” Amijiki smirks.
Thank god for Mina. She covered him. He makes a mental note to thank her.
–
His mother asks him to come home for a couple of days, but he refuses. It would scare the others too much if he did that. People would talk.
Kirishima has on a Crimson riot shirt. A bandage still wraps around his head, so he’s wearing a beanie. A black long-sleeved shirt is under his clothes.
Every single student in the whole school seems to be in the common room when he arrives. At least, that's what it feels like, even if in reality it's just 15 people. Still.
Bakugo meets hie eyes, and stands. Everyone follows after.
“Kirishima!” A million voices shout in unison, and he smiles, weakly. Everyone rushes over and tackles him. Mina screams, telling them to be careful. He noticed nervous glances, however they weren't at him. Everyone is watching Bakugo.
Denki, Midoriya, Sero, Jirou, and… Jesus Christ, even Todoroki’s crying.
“What happened!?”
“Are you okay?”
“You're finally here!”
“What was his quirk?”
“Bakugo wouldn't tell us what happened!!”
Wait. What?
“Wait… You guys… You guys don't know what happened?” Kirishima asks, sitting up from where he was tackled to the ground.
“No!!” They all shout at the same time. They need to stop doing that, it's super creepy.
Kirishima's mind races. Holy shit, Bakugo didn't tell them.
He must have been fucking hounded for answers, but he didn’t tell them. He didn't tell them for Kirishima's sake. Even after Kirishima was such an asshole to him for just trying to help, for saving his life. Bakugo didn't tell them what happened.
He looks up to him, eyes wide. Bakugo is already looking at him, arms crossed. His expression is soft, relieved. His gaze darts to the idiots still clinging to Kirishima, and he rolls his eyes.
“Alright dorks, get off!” The sniffling idiots stand and smile wide.
Kirishima tells them what happened, and how Bakugo came as backup. He tells them how the guy's quirk fucked with him and how he had full-body convulsions.
“Seizures, huh.” Deku mutters under his breath. Mina punches his arm. Deku apologizes and blushes.
“That's badass,” Jirou mutters. Kirishima raises an eyebrow at her, smiling.
What?
“You said the doctor thought you got lucky. That guy must have been super close to overdosing, but you managed to get the guy help and stay alive. Kirishima, that's awesome.” Kirishima gapes.
He didn't think of it that way.
Bakugo snarls.
“The guys are incredible, what'd you expect.” He turns and saunters to the elevator.
“Where're you going?” He calls. Bakugo glances over his shoulder.
“To bed.”
Kirishima tilts his head in confusion.
“He refused to sleep until you got home. He's been awake for like 2 days.” Shoto adds, noting his confused look.
He what.
--
–
Kirishima finds Bakugo the next day, at dinner time. He brings him some food, noting he is probably hungry after his long sleep. He misses class to spend 15 hours.
He knocks on his door and stares at the stir fry, the Tupperware is hot in his hands. He focuses on the smell.
Bakugo opens the door, eyes hard. They soften when he meets red eyes.
“Hey.” He says, breathless.
Kirishima smirks, “Hey. I brought you food.” He hands it over, sleeves partially over his hands. Bakugo grabs the food and opens his door wider.
A silent conversation happens then. A silent invitation, to; Stay. Please?
Kirishima weighs the pros and cons of saying yes to this. Bakugo looks so tired, hair messy, eyes watery, cheeks ruddy.
They watch a show. Bakugo has him watch some goofy ass series that make him laugh way too loud. Bakugo has great taste in entertainment. By the time the episodes are over, he's finished eating, and Kirishima has his knees pulled to his chest.
“Thanks for this.” Kirishima smiles weakly. Bakugo rolls his eyes, laughing.
“Shut the fuck up, you cringey fucker.” He hides a smile by turning away to put the Tupperware on the ground. Kirishima laughs.
“I'm serious! I love hanging out with you.” Bakugo shoots a look at him, eyes wide.
“Kirishima…” Bakugo is looking at him weirdly. For a second he thinks-
“I need to tell you something… About the other night.” Kirishima's stomach drops. He has an urge to get up and run. He lets out an awkward chuckle.
“Look-” His happy smile drops, replaced with a frustrated grimace.
“Kiri, please, just-” He raises his voice, blushing when it cracks loudly. Kirishima frowns, eyes angry. He missed a couple of seconds ago when they weren’t talking about this.
This isn't him. This isn't the Kirishima Eijirou that Bakugo Katsuki was supposed to know. Bakugo shouldn't be talking to him like this, because there should never have been an experience for him to need to speak like this about. Discomfort settles heavily in Eijiro's stomach.
He’s supposed to know Red Riot. Smiling Kirishima. The kid who gives him shit for being a dick, the friend who steals his food. The man who can take his explosions.
He’s supposed to be his best friend. He’s supposed to be trustworthy.
He fears that now he is known for what he truly is.
Kirishima waits for him to speak. He knows what he saw. He knows how disturbing it was, how terrified he must have been. He was supposed to keep him safe. He was supposed to be the level-headed partner that Bakugo needed.
“You are,” He starts, eyes locked on his hands. His palms are glistening with sweat.
“You are the strongest person I have ever met in my life… And I wanted to say thank you.” Kirishima blinks. It pains Bakugo greatly to say such a kind thing, but Kirishima completely misses the red crawling up Bakugos neck, or the sincerity in his eyes when he says it.
“What are you talking about.” Anger flares up inside him;
“Are you— are you fucking making fun of me?” He gets up, fists clenched. Bakugo watches him, eyes wide.
“What? No. I'm serious.” His eyebrows furrow.
“You're serious?” He mocks, tone sharp. His face is screwed up, mouth in a snarl.
“Yes, Kirishima. You… can you sit down, Please? I didn’t mean to make you think I was making fun-”
Kirishima scoffs, bringing a hand to his forehead, and rubbing his temples. His hair is down, it keeps getting in his eyes. Bakugo is looking at him like a kicked puppy. Is he for real right now?
“I'm sorry, go ahead. Let's hear it.” Kirishima crosses his arms, gesturing for Bakugo to continue.
“. . .Why are you mad at me? I’m being fucking nice right now.” Bakugo scowls at him. His arms are tense. Kirishima wishes he’d just fight him instead of whatever emotional rollercoaster this is.
“I don’t want you to be nice to me, Bakugo!” He throws up his hands.
“Why not!?”
“Because I don't deserve it!”
Bakugo stares at him, still sitting. His eyes search the redhead's face. Kirishima feels angry tears well up, but he raises his gaze to the ceiling to keep them from falling.
“Shit, that's not… You know what I mean.”
Bakugo looks confused, angry, perhaps even a little constipated. His face twists and an exasperated sigh falls from his lips.
“If you ever say anything like that again, I'll fucking kill you.”
Kirishima turns to him, eyes wide. A flash of movement.
Bakugos hugging him. Kirishima gapes, hands hovering awkwardly. Something wet is pressing to his collarbone. Bakugo shakes.
“I wish you could see you the way I see you.”
“Katsuki…” He mumbles into his hair. Bakugo tightens his hold. He doesn't make noise as he cries. Kirishima wouldn't know he was if he didn't have a wet spot on his shirt. His hand curls in blonde locks.
This was too much. This was way too personal. They didn't do this.
“What if I said that? What if I told you I didn't deserve it?” Bakugo grumbles.
Kirishima bites his lip. Fuck. He would be pissed.
“I’m sorry… I didn't- I didn’t even think about that-”
“You are so fucking…” Stupid? Inconsiderate? Selfish? Arrogant?
“Troublesome.” Bakugo chuckles wetly. Kirishimas stomach flips. Oh…
Oh. Suddenly Kirishima's heart doesn’t feel so heavy.
–
Kirishima has weekly therapy. This is how it happens;
Aizawa tells him he wants to see him after class, so he goes to his office, only to find Fatgum sitting there, chatting with Aizawa-sensei.
“You ratted me out!?” He shouts, anger, betrayal, and disgust filling his chest. That is so not manly. He thinks of IVs, patches, and beeping machines.
“No. He didn't.” Aizawa clears his throat. The door opens behind him.
Mina steps in. Okay, someone's going to die tonight, and it's not Kirishima.
“I'm gonna beat you, Ashido.” Kirishima mumbles, cheeks red. This is so humiliating.
“Shut up, I didn't tell them anything.” She whispers.
Fatgum clears his throat.
“Listen, Red. We think it would be good if you went to see someone about… the other night.” Fatgum starts.
Aizawa sits up, “Are you taking your meds.”
“What are you my- Mmm,” He hums to stop the rude comment that was leaving his mouth “Yes, I'm taking my meds.” Kirishima feels kinda bad for being a dick, but this is weird. Invasive.
“Would you be up to seeing someone, Eijirou?” Kirishima blushes at Aizawas's forwardness. He nods.
“Yeah, that's fine. You didn't have to call a whole meeting to ask me though.” He chuckles awkwardly. Aizawa nods.
So he's seeing a therapist weekly. When he texts Amajiki he says he's seeing the same therapist. He says a lot of UA students see her.
He sees her every Wednesday after class. At first, he hates it. He doesn't like this chick. She's like a younger version of his English teacher who failed him for turning in an essay 2 MINUTES late in middle school (that bitch). After 2 weeks, He warms up to her a little bit. She's nice and weirdly funny. When he makes jokes, she laughs, or sometimes she just looks concerned and writes it down. That freaks him out a little bit.
“So, he hugged you. What did you say after he hugged you?” Kirishima flushes bright red.
“Well… I said I was sorry because I was. And then he said, um…” He scratches his cheek, licking his lip.
“He just— He asked me how I would feel if our roles were reversed. Which was shocking because Bakugos is not a big—Like, feelings guy.” Kirishima chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap.
“Well, it's a good question. Puts your response in perspective. How would you feel if the roles were reversed?” Kirishima sighs, lips forming a loose smile.
“I would be livid.” That's… true.
“Why?”
“Because it's so wrong. He… deserves the world.”
She nods. Okay, she says.
“Now you know how he feels.” All the air leaves Kirishima's lungs.
Oh. His stomach flips again.
–
“Alright class. Today we're pushing our limits with some sparring. As you can see class B is going to train with us.” Kirishima waves at TetsuTetsu. He waves back, giddy. Bakugo rolls his eyes at them.
“You have each been assigned a partner you will be fighting. This is similar to the sports festival in that the goal is to contain your opponent. Understood?”
Yes sir! They all call. Aizawa begins to list the pairs. Kirishima stops himself from rolling his eyes. It was so boring going up against the same guy over and over again. Tetsu was a good opponent but they always-
“Kirishima Eijirou vs… Bakugo Katsuki.”
Everyone in the gym holds their breath. Kirishima and Bakugo turn to look at each other very slowly.
“FUCK YEAH!” They shout at the same time, high-fiving.
“Shut up! …Next is-” Kirishima can't even hear Aizawa. He is so pumped!
Tetsu gets teamed up with some Class B rando. Kirishima's body is buzzing with energy. He can't remember the last time he and Bakugo got a chance to fight without holding back, in a real arena.
They go 6th out of all the pairs. Denki and Kosei are before them. Denki won, obviously.
Kirishima walks out first. Both classes cheer for him. He smiles, waving happily. Present Mic comes over the speakers.
“From class 1-A, Kirishima Eijirou! Quirk? Hardening! His skin can turn as hard as a rock, or maybe even harder than a rock. Is there anything that can hurt this guy?” Denki lets out a high-pitched scream. Kirishima laughs loudly. He smashes his fists together when Bakugo starts walking out.
He's wearing his winter costume. The sleeves compress his incredibly muscular arms, and shoulders. His hair is shining in the light, and Eijirou can't hold back the blush that spreads on his face when Bakugo smiles at him.
“Also from class 1-A, Bakugo Katsuki! His quirk? Don't lie, you already know his quirk. Will Kirishima be the only person to stop this bomb of anger and hatred? Let's find out!” Everyone chuckles at Present Mics' informality.
“You ready for this pretty boy?” Kirishima smirks. He pulls an arm across his chest, stretching.
“You know I am, Red.” Bakugo looks down at him, even though Kirishima is much taller.
“Begin!”
Bakugo flies over his head, an explosion aimed at the back of Kirishima's head. Kirishima twists, grabs Bakugos wrist one handed, and slams him into the ground. Everyone gasps, cheers, shouts.
Bakugo dodges the punch Kirishima aims at Bakugos head. He grabs Kirishima's wrist, detonates his palms, and kicks him off. Bakugo is in the air before Eijirou can blink.
“Quit running!” He screams.
“Quit being so grabby!” Bakugo screams back. He lands, aims a hand at Kirishima's red hair, and pulls the pin on his gauntlet.
BOOM!
Silence fills the room as the explosion rocks the arena. Dust and debris fly into the air. Bakugo loses sight of Kirishima. Shit. The wind picks up and Bakugo sees something fly past on his left side.
Slam! Bakugo finds his head in the concrete. People shout, gasp. Kirishima picks him up and throws him as hard as he can. Bakugos nose is bleeding, but for some reason; He is laughing. Kirishima has a shit-eating grin on his face.
Bakugo rights his trajectory mid-air, landing on his feet.
Kirishima hardens his front and allows Bakugo to run at him as fast as he can.
“I'm gonna kill you!” Kirishima licks his lips.
“I'm counting on it.” Kirishimas voice takes a dangerous tilt. The crowd of students turns from cheering to making sounds of slight confusion.
“Are they… flirting?” One girl says.
“Yeah… I think they are.” Iida says.
Bakugo rushes Kirishima, explosion after explosion aimed at his face. Kirishima reaches through, grabs the blonde's waist, and pins him to the floor. Bakugo groans.
“Fuck,” His head smashes back. Kirishima frowns. His grip softens, skin smoothing out. His hands stay on his waist. Bakugos hands grab both Kirishima's wrists. A groan leaves his lips.
“Agh-...hah-” Bakugos eyes squeeze shut. That's so hot, Eijirou thinks. Kirishimas whole body burns warm.
“Oh shit, are you okay-” BOOM! Kirishima is pushed backward. He falls flat on his back. He groans, trying to stop himself from losing consciousness. A foot steps on his chest.
“Oof-!” Kirishima blinks up at him.
“Gotcha.” Bakugo purrs. Kirishima growls. He grabs Bakugos foot, and lifts it off of him, standing quickly. Bakugo screeches and falls back on his ass. He lets out 5 quick explosions, 2 hit the cement causing a cloud of dust to cover them from view. Everyone holds their breath.
After 3 seconds, the dust clears. And Kirishima has Bakugos hands pinned above his head. Their chests are heaving. Bakugos lip is bleeding, and his hair is stuck to his forehead. God, he looks so good like this.
“Gotcha,” Kirishima whispers, a smirk curling on his lips. Bakugos smiling, probably concussed. He kicks his feet twice and then stops.
“Mmkay. You got me.” Kirishima's heart fills. He turns his head to the crowd.
“Didja hear that!?” He's smiling. Bakugo turns too.
Everyone is staring, eyes wide in horror and disgust. Aizawa and Present Mic sit there, jaw dropped.
Kirishima looks back at Bakugo. They seem to realize their position a second too late. He stands quickly, putting at least 20 feet of distance between them.
“Kirishima is the winner!” Present Mic finally calls out loudly. Everyone cheers, albeit a little hesitantly.
Fuck. Embarrassing.
--
Kirishima and Bakugo walk back to the dorms together. Kirishima thinks of what to say.
That was weird, right? Yeah.
Should he talk about it? Probably not.
Is he gonna? Yeah.
“Hey, Bakugo-” He starts, at the same time Bakugo calls;
“Kirishima-”
They stare at each other and chuckle.
“You go first.” Kirishima gestures.
“You never let me thank you the other day.” He tests. Kirishima grimaces. Oh. Yeah.
“Didn't I?” He kicks a rock.
“Kirishima. Look.”
He thinks of his therapist's words. He turns to Katsuki, cheeks heating.
“We're equals. Which means that we… represent each other,” Bakugo sighs, and says,
“I'm proud to have you at my side. I hope you know that. But, when you say bad shit about yourself, you're saying it about me too.” A smoking hand falls to his side.
“So quit being a fucking idiot.”
Kirishima chuckles.
“Thank you.”
“Also, we should probably keep our flirting behind closed doors. I think I saw someone throw up in their mouth earlier.”
Kirishima stops in his tracks. Bakugo continues walking.
“Is that a joke?” He calls. Bakugo shakes his head, giggling, and continues walking.
“Kat- Bakugo! Is that a joke?” Bakugo speeds up.
“That shi-” He starts chasing him.
Laughter echoes down the sidewalk.
–
It's their third year at UA and Kirishima sits on a couch and groans loudly.
“Eijirou, you need to talk to him.” She says.
“And say what?” He tosses a tennis ball over his head.
“Say what you're feeling.” Catch.
“I have no idea how to do that.” Throw.
“Sure you do. You're great at it.” Catch.
“Give me one example.” Throw.
“You can't put me on the spot like that-” She flips a page. Catch. He sits up.
Kirishima points out, “Ah ah! No cheating. See? You gotta consult the notes to even remember a time.” She sighs.
“Kirishima. This is serious. It's eating away at you, and even you said it's causing mental strain.” Kirishima groans loudly, glancing at the clock. A curse leaves his mouth, and he picks up his bag.
“Fine, whatever, I'll think about it.”
“Hey, before you go, how are the new meds feeling?” Kirishima toses her the tennis ball and slides his bag on.
“So far so good. See ya.”
–
It's their third year at UA and Kirishima comes downstairs shirtless for the first time since moving into the dorms. No one pays it much mind, since they live with 8 other men who are allergic to shirts. Bakugo, however, won't stop staring.
“Take a picture, baby.” He purrs, pouring himself a glass of milk.
“Oh, fuck off.” Bakugos cheeks are so pink he's giving Ochako a run for her money right now. Bakugo is only staring because he’s proud, okay?
Kirishima’s confident enough to come downstairs shirtless (especially since it's 95 degrees outside and his dorm's AC broke yesterday night)(don't ask how)(Mario Kart Accident).
“You look good.” His gaze shoots up, mouth agape.
“What'd you just say?” He asks, smirking. The cocky bastard just… hit on him.
“You heard me.” Bakugo turns around and walks into the common room. Kirishima has never moved faster in his life. He wraps his much bigger arms around Bakugos waist and lifts.
“HEY!” He screams, blasting the redhead's arms.
“You can't just run away after saying that!” Kirishima winks at Mineta, who is the only one who sees them have this interaction before they disappear into the kitchen once again.
When he sets the blonde down, he twists in Kirishima's hold, facing him with a fake glare.
“You're an asshole.”
“You think I look good.” Kirishima teases, and watches Bakugos face go red. Anger, embarrassment, maybe both.
“Not anymore.” Kirishima lets out a laugh, flabbergasted at Bakugos nerve.
They're both smiling like idiots and only after a long silence and a whistful sigh does Kirishima look down. His hands are on Katsuki's waist, and Katsukis hands are on his shoulders. Kirishima lets go and pulls away quickly, turning back to the glass of milk he was in the middle of pouring.
“Hey, can I borrow your fan tonight?” Kirishima asks. Bakugo coughs.
“No. But you can spend the night.” He laughs.
“Deal!”
–
It's valentines day when it finally dawns on him. After 3 years, Denki is the one to make him realize.
Denki and Sero sit in the common room, watching some random horror movie.
“God, having a girlfriend is hard. I never know what to get her for Valentine's Day.” Denki rubs his eyes, laying back on Kirishima's legs.
Kirishima answers quickly. “Bro it's easy; flowers, chocolate, a handwritten letter, and then dinner. Done.” Denki snickers.
“Easy for you to say, you could give Bakugo a broken car battery and he'd still sing your praises.”
“What?”
All eyes are on him.
“What does Bakugo have to do with this?”
“What do you mean?” Sero asks.
“No, what do you mean?’ Kirishima asks in return.
“Wait… aren't you and Bakugo dating?”
Kirishima sputters, gears turning, turning, turning, stuck.
“No. Why would you think that?” Seros face goes ghostly white.
“Dude. I'm so sorry.” Denki interjects. “I’m so sorry you’re such an idiot.” Kirishima chooses to not respond to that.
“How long have you guys thought this?” Kirishima asks, face red.
“Like… a really long time.” Sero mumbles. Denki nods. Kirishima gapes.
“We thought you guys were dating ever since that one night when you got hit by that guy's quirk.” Denki grabs a chip out of Sero's bowl, chomping loudly.
“Bakugo's reaction made a lot of us think you were together. I guess he never told you.” Sero adds, joining in on the loud eating. Definitely a nervous habit. Kirishimas mind is blank.
“No, no he didn't. What happened?”
“Dude.”
“Bakugo was ruined.”
–
Class 1-A was having a hard weekend. Never, in all of the 2 years they have been a class, have they struggled this much to pick a movie for Friday night movie night. No one can agree on a genre, and at this point, Midoriya just wants to go to sleep.
“Wait! Guys!” He shouts, gaze fixed on the TV. He was in charge of the remote tonight (they have a system).
“What about Ponyo?” Everyone looks at each other. He waits for the grunts of complaint, but they don't come. He presses play. Everyone settles, and about 30 minutes in, the front door opens.
Deku tilts his head back, trying not to jostle Todoroki who has fallen asleep on his arm. A lot of the class was on patrol tonight so he wasn't too surprised at the intrusion.
“Welcome back!” He calls, looking upside down behind him.
Kacchan falls to his knees. Someone gasps and Midoriya is up, pausing the show in seconds. Shouji is closest, hands hovering over the cowering blonde.
“Kacchan?” Midoriyas heart sinks.
Sero runs over. He puts a hand on his back.
“Dude, you're scaring us, what happened?” Please don't say someone is dead. Please don't say someone is dead.
Bakugo brings his hands to his face, holding both to his mouth as if he's trying to stop any unwanted noises from coming out. Like he’s trying to keep a secret.
He has tear stains on his face and blood on his hands. Iida comes up behind them, a rag and glass of water in his hand. Someone turns on the light. He's obviously just left work, he didn't even stop to change or shower.
He's shaking.
“Kirishima's…” His voice cracks. His eyes look up, red, and wet. He looks at Midoriya.
“I couldn't do anything.” He looks back down, and when he sees Iida's outstretched hand, he pushes it away.
He sways when he gets to his feet. Sero tries to wrap an arm around him, and Bakugo pushes it away.
“Don't.” He growls, one hand up. He looks like he's gonna puke.
Bakugos tears fall quickly. He turns away, limping to the elevator.
“We just want to help Kacchan.” Bakugo stops and turns.
“If you wanted to help you would leave me alone.” He hisses. Midoriyas face twists.
“How would that help you?”
“Because it's what I want!”
“Well, what you want isn't always what you need, Kacchan.”
“What I need, is for you to shut the fuck up.”
“Is Kirishima okay?”
Bakugo turns to Mina, gaze hard. His bottom lip quivers.
“They said—,” Kirishima is lucky to be alive. “Yes. Yes, he's okay. I'm going back to the hospital in a second, I just need to grab some stuff—”
“No, Kacchan, you’re in no state to walk back right now.” Midoriya fusses.
Bakugo bristles.
“Yeah, I don't know if that's a good idea.” Sero agrees.
“All of you need to leave me alone.” Bakugo turns and trips. Ochaco catches him.
“Bakugo, you need to stay here tonight.”
“I CAN'T!” Loud. Someone behind Ururaka flinches. He's so tired, that adrenaline is quickly leaving him. He needs to go back.
“Why not?” Her voice is so gentle. Like she's talking to a child. She is.
“Because I need to be with him.” He cries, a sob wracking his frame. His shoulders hunch forward and his gaze faces the ground. Midoriya has seen this scene before, on a night in the fall. Ochaco still holds him, two hands in his arms. A shadow covers his face.
“I need to be with him.” He repeats. He cries harder now, and Ochaco pulls him into her chest. He clings to her shirt. Midoriya sighs, pressing his hands together and bringing them to his lips. He’s deciding what to do when someone stands.
“I'll go.” Mina steps forward, placing a hand on Bakugos shoulder. She's calm. Not a lick of worry on her face, as if she has been here before. Midoriya faintly wonders if she has.
Bakugo shakes his head, a grimace on his mouth. His face is still shoved into Ururaka's shoulder.
“Bakugo… I'll watch him for you. Okay? Just until you get back.” Bakugo sighs. A silent yes. Mina leaves that second. Midoriya was smart enough to make sure she had her phone, wishing her luck.
Bakugo insists on sleeping on the couch, in case Mina comes back for some reason. Midoriya, Sero, and Ochaco stay down there with him. Sero walks Bakugo to his room to change, and when he gets downstairs, he falls asleep in seconds.
Bakugo wakes up 2 hours after Mina leaves.
He shoots up with a shout. An explosion pops from his hands, carrying the blanket covering him.
Ochaco sits up quickly, hair askew.
“What! Who's there??” She has her hands in weak fists. Bakugo gasps for air and stands, pulling on his shoes.
“Kacchan, wait!” The door slams behind him.
“Dammit.”
–
“See?” Denki restates.
“Crying at your friend being hurt doesn't seem like very unnatural behavior.” Kirishima defends.
“It is if you're Bakugo Katsuki. Plus, he was weird when he came back too. He wouldn't eat, he was super irritable, and wouldn't stop cleaning shit. Kept ranting to us about cameras, and how he was going to kill some random ass news reporter. It was weird, bro.” Sero points, mouth full. The chip dust on his fingers gets uncomfortably close to Kirishima's face, making him wrinkle his nose.
“That's why we were all so shocked when you got back and he barely said anything.” That's right. Kirishima suddenly remembers all the weird stares pointed at Bakugo when he finally came home. He remembers worried glances and confused looks. A warmth runs down his neck.
“That doesn’t explain why you thought we were dating.”
Sero scoffs. “Dude. I love you, but even I didn’t react like that,” A gesturing hand. “Sure, you could use the argument ‘Well you weren’t there when it happened! You would react differently if you saw it!’ but Bakugo was” Sero shakes his head, “…it wasn’t normal behavior from him.”
“He’s seen Deku get smashed into concrete and almost die. Never once did he react like that.” Denki adds.
“React like what?” All three boys jump.
“Speak of the devil!” Denki teases. Kirishima smacks him on the back of the head. Sero cackles at them both.
“Oi, Kirishima.” Bakugos arms are crossed. Kirishima turns.
“What do you want for dinner.” Kirishima's face lights up. He never gets to pick!
“Something with a lot of meat,” He pauses, and then, “And no vegetables.” Bakugo rolls his eyes, walking to the kitchen.
“Of course you do,” And then, quieter. “Why’d I even ask.”
Sero’s the first to speak up.
“Dude. You should talk to him.” Kirishima looked at where the blonde was standing.
“Okay. I will.”
—
The food is incredible. Kirishima eats with Bakugo at the kitchen table. People come in and out, but because of the time most of them are in the common room watching TV or upstairs studying. Sunday nights were always pretty quiet.
Bakugo is mumbling something about Aizawa's inability to respond to emails when Kirishima stands to bring their plates to the sink. Bakugo follows him up.
“Like motherfucker, what are you so fucking busy with? I saw you retweeted a Mirko fan edit two hours ago. And yes, I stalked him because this shit is due Tuesday and he still won’t answer!” Bakugo leans back against the counter, tank top rippling over his stomach.
“Maybe he took a nap.”
“Ahh yes, A nap at 7 pm on a Sunday.” Bakugo sarcastically counters. Kirishima snorts.
“You know what Bakugo, I think he’s doing it because he wants you to fail.” Bakugo picks up his head and gives a glare so hard Kirishima almost doubles over from the impact. Cute, he thinks.
“Shut the fuck up, not helpful.” He pushes himself off the counter just as Kirishima gets done rinsing the dishes, whipping his hands on a rag. He throws said rag at Bakugos face, and watches it fall into the explosive boys hands.
“Quit stressing.” He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms, facing the blonde.
Bakugo stares at him for a moment, setting down the rag next to him. Red eyes lock on his sleeveless top. His eyes are dark, thinking. Kirishima uncrosses one arm and brings it to his hair. Bakugo leans his head down, out of habit. Kirishima tousles it once and chuckles.
He feels strange after his conversation with Sero and Denki. He never realized it until now, just how domestic everything they did was. How they move around each other with ease, how they riff off each other's jokes. When Bakugo pauses eating and does that thing with his lips Kirishima knows means he's thirsty. How Kirishima stands to grab Bakugo a drink, and immediately knows what he wants.
How he can tell something is eating at Bakugo just from a glance. They could switch bodies today, and barely anything would change. They knew each other so well.
Kirishima feels guilty suddenly. He hasn’t been honest with Bakugo, not about himself. They know everything about each other, but every time Bakugo tries to take a peek at his past he waters it down or ignores it completely. How was that fair? He thinks back to the fight they had, how he had lashed out. Shit, he’s kind of a terrible friend for that, huh?
“Now who’s the one stressing?” Bakugo pokes right in between his brows. Kirishima smiles, rubbing a hand on his forehead. He follows Bakugo to the elevator and sighs.
He can do this. He can open up. How hard can it be?
Bakugo sits on Kirishima's bed, the redhead's phone held over the blonde's head. Kirishima's heart squeezes. He looks so natural like this. Surrounded by Kirishimas things, relaxed. Comfortable.
“Hey,” He says, voice strangely gentle. He drops into a squat at the head of his bed. His gaze is level with Bakugos now, and he drops the phone onto his chest, fingers playing with the charm that rests there.
“Hey,” Bakugo replies. Kirishima blushes at his voice, eyes searching.
“You’re my best friend, yeah?” Bakugos eyes widen. He nods. Kirishima tilts his head down, sighing.
“You know how I told you about me in middle school? How I was super insecure about my quirk and stuff?” Another nod.
“I didn’t tell you everything about…me.” Bakugos lips twist.
“I know.” He says. Kirishima smiles fondly.
“If you want to know I can tell you.” Kirishima's eyes flicker to his lips, chewing nervously. Bakugo swallows.
“I want to know.”
So Kirishima tells him.
He tells him about how his quirk manifested. How small hands turned sharp. How comforting touch turned into angry lines. How he was so scared. He tells Bakugo about his mother, and how she did her best to raise him after his dad left.
“She was so young when she had me. Only 19. She graduated 5 days after finding out she was pregnant. Pretty crazy.” Bakugo listens the whole time, sitting up. Kirishima has his arms crossed, rocking in his desk chair.
“I remember when I was a kid, and she would take me to get new clothes. I would pick out the most atrocious outfits imaginable. She would always laugh, and tell me I was gonna look ridiculous. I think I looked pretty awesome.” Kirishima smiles. He tilts his head, thinking.
“I was around… Oh shit, maybe 12? Yeah, 12, when I was diagnosed with depression. Depression and anxiety.” He tells him about orange bottles, and fight or flight.
He tells him about Mina and 10-foot monsters. He tells him about rocks being thrown at his head and meaningless protection.
“When I was, um…” He pauses, head tilting back on his chair. He can do this. Bakugos hands are fists in his lap. He decides to focus on that.
“When I was 13, It started to get bad.” He chuckles, dryly.
“The meds I was taking were just making it worse, and—” He takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous.
“One night, I—” Kirishima brings a hand to his chin, and then to his eyes. Bakugo sits straighter. He doesn’t say anything.
“I was alone, and I was so angry. In all the therapy sessions I had been to, and all the motivational videos I was forced to watch, they always talked about how sad and hopeless you feel. But, they never talk about the anger.
“It is the greatest motivator, especially when you're understanding of consequence hasn’t developed and you’re home alone,
“So I grabbed the pill bottle that I kept in my room, and I took all of them. My mom found me an hour later. My quirk was coming on and off so the paramedics had a really hard time helping me, and I remember…” Kirishima looks at the ceiling, silent tears filling his eyes.
“I remember the look on her face, when she saw my arms, and when she found me. I was angry, that I failed, I was angry that she came home early, and that she helped me. At first, I didn’t even want to talk to her.” Kirishima clenches his fists, angry at a younger version of himself.
“She broke down when I finally apologized. Made me promise not to hurt myself, or be mean to her son.” Kirishima's lips shake, a teary smile breaking across his face.
“I broke that promise so many times.” Kirishima presses his fists to his eyes. Tears fall hot on his cheeks.
“Fuck. Sorry.” Bakugo is sitting on the edge of the bed now and reaches out a hand to grab Kirishima's wrist. He pulls it close to him and rubs his thumb on scars that shouldn’t exist.
“Eijirou…” Kirishima looks up, biting his lip.
“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” Kirishima probably looks stupid. He knows he’s not a pretty crier. Bakugo is still looking at him nonetheless. He brings Kirishima's hand to his hair, closing his eyes.
Thank you, He's trying to say. Kirishima ruffles his hair. You're welcome.
“After all that happened, I got help and shit, started new meds. The school therapist helped a lot too. I talk about you all the time.” Bakugos eyes shoot open.
“What the fuck? Why?”
“Because we’re practically always together dude.” Kirishima wipes his tears, standing to sit next to Bakugo. Bakugo scoots over, pulling one knee to the side to face him. He scoffs as if he doesn’t believe him, and Kirishima raises an eyebrow.
“Fine, you caught me! I talk about your smart, enchanting personality the whole time, and then we talk about how many kids I want with you, and I write ‘Katsuki Kirishima’ over and over on the walls.” Bakugo bursts out laughing.
“Shut up.” He smacks Kirishima's head, and Kirishima pushes him backward. Bakugo pushes harder. They giggle.
“You love it!” Kirishima jabs a hand into Bakugo's side, causing him to fall apart. Ticklish. Eijioru never lets him forget it.
“Stop! I’ll— Ha!--- I’ll kill you!” Kirishima wheezes, watching Bakugos eyes crinkle with tears. He stops and watches as he sits up slowly, neck craned back. His chest rises with each deep breath, trying to catch it.
“Kat,” Kirishima calls. Bakugos eyes fly open, catching the redhead's stare.
“Kiri.” He replies. God, he looks so beautiful.
Maybe it's from Bakugos flushed face at being called the nickname, or maybe he's flushed because Kirisimas's tank top was pulled over his stomach without him even realizing, but he wants nothing more than to kiss him at this exact moment. He thinks he’d let him too, he’d probably tilt into it and sit up. Kirishima leans forward, and just when Bakugo closes his eyes, he says—
“Gotcha.” He leans back and stands. Bakugo leaps after him.
From the common room, Jirou overhears an explosion, and then;
“What the fuck was that!” And maniacal laughter.
So much for keeping their flirting behind closed doors.
--
Bakugo’s having a nightmare.
He rarely has them anymore, but they were quite common in 1st year. After Kamino, he would awaken having dreamt of grey hands and empty night skies. After remembering where he was, the thought of Kirishima just a wall away was enough to make him feel safe. Bakugo wasn’t a pussy, he could take care of himself. He didn’t need Kirishima next to him to feel protected, but he couldn’t deny it didn’t help to have the guy who saved your life 20 feet away.
However, he's developed a tolerance, and he needs to up the dose somehow. He shoots awake with visions of foaming mouths and cracked skulls. He can’t tell if he yells or not, because once he's aware of being awake, the world seems to only contain him and his breathing.
A door opens.
Bakugo can’t see in the dark, but a tall figure walks towards him. He tries to not let panic consume him. The light outside lights up Kirishima's red hair.
“Hey, what happened?” He crouches at his side. A hand in his hair seems to cause Bakugo to finally crack. He’s a blubbering mess, pulling Kirishima over him, clutching at his shoulders. It’s all rough grabs and boyish energy. It sends a jolt down Kirishima's spine.
“It looked so real—” Bakugo chokes, and sobs. Kirishima is petting his head. They didn’t do this. Did they? When did this become so normal?
“Hey hey, It’s okay.”
“Eiji, you— Fuck! It looked so real!” He sobs again, louder this time, and Kirishima can only hold him while he cries. Each sob has Kirishima gripping harder. Bakugo can hardly breathe, and Eijirou is sure Shoji has woken up now. A hand holds Bakugos head gently, cradling. He thinks of Bakugo smirking, palms smoking. He thinks of black eyes and quiet ignorance. When had this become them? When had they gotten so weak to eachother?
“I’m here, I’m right here Katsuki.” Kirishima holds him tighter, wishing he could take this pain onto himself. Wishing wishing wishing.
It’s almost inaudible. “I was so scared.” A whisper, slipped past quivering lips. He thinks of loud laughs, and outstretched hands. When had they gotten so weak. Not to this. Not to the night sky and illusions influence. To them.
“I know, man. I know.” Kirishima presses his lips to Bakugos head.
–
I wish I could tell you Kirishima told Bakugo that morning. Told him how Bakugo made him feel. How he thought of cracked lips and weak knees, but he woke up alone. Weak. You make me weak, he wanted to tell him When he finally did see Bakugo, he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to tell him how much he understood that fear, of losing eachother. It was the scariest thought in the world, but he just couldn’t do it. He was too scared;
3 weeks later, however? 3 weeks later is a different story.
“Kirishima, I thought you had an interview today?” Denki calls from the couch.
As third years, it's become more and more common for the class to do ‘normal’ pro-hero things. Whether that be commercials, late-night talks, or interviews, they’ve all done it at least once. Bakugo has been on the front cover of 3 magazines. Kirishima has every single one in his bedside drawer.
“I do.” He's pulling his shoes on, hoping on one foot. He has on dress pants and a nice shirt. Its black, with red detailing, lacy design all around. Bakugo insisted on dressing him when he saw the Hawaiian shirt he planned on wearing.
“Then why the fuck are you putting on the church loafers.” He calls. Someone cackles. Traitors.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” Kirishima grabs his phone off the table, and shouts a ‘See ya!’ before heading out.
Aizawa offered to drive him, since taking the train has gotten so burdensome. Kirishimas popularity has skyrocketed recently, especially among the male population. Thirteen year old closeted Kirishma would have been ecstatic, but eighteen year old lovestruck Kirishima feels like all the attention is draining.
“You okay, Kid?” Aizawa has one hand on the wheel, toothpick in his mouth. Kirishima glances over, trying not to mess with his own hair.
“Yeah.”
“Did you take your meds?”
“Yeah.”
They’re silent after that. Kirishima thinks about his hair and the way this shirt hugs his chest. The bottom of his foot itches, and this hairstyle is way out of his comfort zone.
Whatever.
When he finally gets there, he’s forced into a chair and has so much powder and cream applied to his face he’s scared to smile too much in case it cracks and flakes off. The guy interviewing him is nice, seemingly genuine with his smile. Its rare Kirishima talks to someone working in media that actually enjoys what they do.
The first few minutes of the interview go well, if the tiniest bit awkward. It’s live, which worries him. He gets a text 3 minutes before he’s supposed to go on from Jirou;
Do ur best kid!!!
Kirishima feels like he’s going to go blind under the lights, but he forgets it after a couple minutes.
“So, Kirishima, I have a game for us to play.” Kirishima sits up, uncrossing his legs. He starts to sweat a little bit.
“I will ask you a series of questions, and you will answer as fast as possible. The more questions you answer correctly, the more points you get. You wanna play?”
“Sure!” Sounds easy enough.
Kirishima, the fool, forgot the inherit evil that permeates the air of all media enjoyers. He has entered a game rigged for failure.
“Alright time starts… Now! Who is your favorite hero?”
“Crimson Riot.”
“Favorite movie?”
“Rocky.”
“Least favorite word?” Kirishima laughs.
“ ‘No.’ “
“Least favorite phrase.”
His mouth opens, and he spouts nonsense. “Thats not edible?”
The crowd laughs.
“Biggest turn-off?” Ooh! from the crowd.
“Being unmanly.”
“Meanest hero you ever met?”
“No one so far.” He shakes his head, honestly.
“Currently seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” Okay, these questions are getting weird.
“Currently wanting to see anyone?” Kirishima smiles, face warming. He makes eye contact with the camera, and winks.
“No comment!” The crowd laughs, louder.
“Alright, Favorite food?”
Then, in a sultry tone, “‘No comment’.” Another wink.
–
When he gets in the car, he’s exhausted. Aizawa is smirking at him when he plops down in the front seat. The first thing he does is run a hand through his hair. Mina forced him to keep it down, curling it very slightly. He thought he looked dumb as hell, but she insisted he looked hot.
“What?” Kirishima asks, once he catches Aizawas smile.
Aizawa shrugs and fixes his mouth into a thin line.
When they arrive home, Kirishima walks in and is bombarded by his idiot friends.
“Dude, that was hilarious!” Denki bumps his shoulder with his fist.
Jirou is following close behind, smiling. Mina grabs her arm and leans forward.
“Dude, you looked so hot! If your popularity doesn’t sky rocket after this i’m suing the company.” She pouts, and Kirishima laughs.
“You did so well, oh my god! I thought Bakugo was going to explode during the whole ‘No comment’ bit, Oh brother!” Denki bends over in fits of laughter. Sero and Todoroki are giggling on the couch, trying to hide it, and failing.
“Wha- Where is he?” Kirishima straightens up, a hand subconsciously going to his hair.
Denki shrugs. “He went upstairs once it ended. He’s probably taking a cold shower.” Kirishima sharpens his gaze. Too far.
“Alright, enough. I’m gonna go find him.” Before he takes a step though, he says in a lower tone.
“Do you think it was too much?”
“Woulda worked on me.” Jirou smirks, and pushes him towards the stairs.
–
Kirishima is standing in front of Bakugos door, a hand held out to knock. He sucks in a breath but drops the hand before it can make contact. He steps towards his door, and opens it slowly.
It’s honestly a little embarrassing. The way they toe around eachother. Kirishima runs a hand through his hair, sighing. He drops his phone and wallet on his desk and begins to unbutton his pants, unzipping them quickly.
“You’re so goddamn troublesome.” Kirishima jumps, hands hardening. Bakugo is sitting on the edge of his bed. How the fuck did he not notice him.
“Katsuki, you scared the shit outta me.” Bakugo stands, and takes a step towards him. All the air in Kirishimas lungs leave him at once.
“Eijioru.” He is so close Kirishima could count the freckles under his eyes, the eyelashes fluttering at his cheeks, the cracks in his lips. Time slows, and he thinks he does, drunk on the feeling of being so fucking close.
He licks his own lips, glancing at Bakugos.
This isn’t the Kirishima that Bakugo was supposed to know. He isn’t supposed to know blushing, or pining. He wasn’t supposed to know enchanted or wanting. He was supposed to know restraint and strength. He was supposed to know determination and focus.
A hand finds Bakugos hip, however. Bakugo suddenly knows a different Kirishima.
He knows black hair, and red eyes. He knows dye stained tile and healed scars. He knows smiling, and he knows laughter. He knows flustered mumbling and sweaty hands.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this is him. His mother always said fake it till you make it, but maybe somewhere along faking it, he made it. Maybe Bakugo knew Eijirou because Bakugo never gave him a reason to fake it.
And it's just so easy, with him. It’s so easy for Red Riot to turn into Kirishima, and for Kirishima to turn into Eijioru. Because Bakugos in his room, without even asking. He’s a blanket hog and a password stealer. He’s home-cooked meals and elbows off the table. He’s red eyes, and ugly crying. He’s pink cheeks and empty threats. And right now, he’s smooth lips, and begging looks.
“Katsuki,” Kirishima whispers, a warm feeling blooming in his stomach. He wants wants wants. He wants it for real, forever, right now.
“You were talking about me, right?” Bakugo tilts his head smirking, sharp tooth sending a ping of excitement down Kirishimas heart.
In all the years Kirishima sat wondering if it was even worth it. In all the time he was begging, and screaming, and kicking for a reason to have any hope at all, Kirishima has never seen a better reason than the one in front of him at this second.
Every self inflicted injury, every mind-consuming thought seems pointless and empty when he compares it to this excitement and wonder he feels at this moment.
How strange is it, how this man has seen him at his absolute worst. Having the time of his life, fighting for it, and begging for it to end, yet here he stands. Bakugo sees Kirishima as more than an escape, a hand stretched out in a starry sky. He’s more than a shield, or an unscratchable rider. He’s dark rooms, quickened breath, senseless whispers. He’s gentle comforting, impulsive rescue, and unwavering protection. He’s Eijirou.
And of course he thinks, but is this enough? Is this enough to have him by my side?
Bakugo does not answers, but the boy looking back at him through the reflection in his eyes does.
He says, Yes.
So he kisses him.
And Bakugo kisses back.
It’s hands on hips, and ruffled hair. It’s messy, and both of them are out of practice, but neither complain. It’s tight grips and breathless noises. Kirishimas hair won’t stop tickling Bakugos nose, but they won’t pull away. Kirishima is pushed onto the bed, and Bakugo is all cocky smirks and smug laughter.
“Oh, shut up dude.” Kirishima's hoarse voice only makes Bakugo laugh louder.
“You love it.”
Kirishima Eijirou has been sick his whole life. Not a day went by when he wasn’t reminded about that fact. He will always be sick.
When he joins UA, he takes advice from his mother. Start new, fake it till you make it. He dyes his hair, chops some of it off, changes his whole wardrobe, buys new notebooks, pens, phone case, shoes. He faked being someone else because if he was himself he would surely fail.
But now, with a hand under a shirt, and a blushing mess in his lap, he realizes something.
He was very very wrong.