Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun shining down on UA’s sprawling grounds was fucking obnoxious. Bakugou squinted as he trudged behind the rest of his classmates, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He was sandwiched between Kirishima and Kaminari, against his will, he might add – every time he tried to walk ahead of them or fall behind, they stubbornly matched his pace. They were like a couple of leeches.

            “Aren’t you excited, man?” Kirishima nudged him with his elbow and gave him a grin that was even more blinding than the damn sun. Imagine that – someone being brighter than the fucking sun. That was Kirishima.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Bakugou grumbled in response, turning away from the redhead’s grin before it burned him. “Fuckin’ thrilled.”

            “I’m hyped myself, personally.” Kaminari chimed in, though nobody asked him. He lowered his voice and said covertly, “I’m most excited about seeing the girls in bikinis…you think Momo’s will be able to hold her boobs in?”

            “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.” Bakugou shook his head. Kirishima’s smile turned into a grimace.

            “Dude!” He scolded Kaminari. “Don’t talk about our friends like that!” Always such a good person, that Kirishima. He was so sweet it was tooth-rotting.

            “What? You haven’t been imagining what’s under those uniforms…I wonder if Asui has a nice body; I mean she’s a frog which could be kinda weird, but that tongue…Oh, and Uraraka…” He had stars in his eyes.

            “No, I haven’t.” Bakugou snarled. He wanted to slap him. “You’ve got serious issues, moron.” He attempted again to walk ahead of the dumbass patrol, but Kirishima had slung his arm around his shoulders.

            “Yeah, but he’s our moron, right?” He laughed. Kirishima was constantly keeping Bakugou from killing Kaminari – he would have already, if he didn’t know how much the electric idiot meant to Kirishima. Over his time at UA, he found himself in a position where he respected Kirishima and didn’t hate having him around. Since he got along with Kirishima, he put up with Kaminari too. It was good practice for controlling his quirk, because every time the blonde opened his mouth, Bakugou’s palms started crackling with anger.

            The trio reached the bus that was waiting for them outside of UA’s illustrious gates. Aizawa and Present Mic were at the doors – Aizawa looking just a little more alive than a zombie and Mic looking like he might break into an air guitar at any minute. The herd of students came to a stop in front of them, awaiting further instructions.

            It was the end of the semester and summer vacation had arrived. The air was thick with heat and the students had broken out their casual wear – shorts and t-shirts and sundresses and flip-flops. Every hand was clutching a suitcase – or in Ashido’s case, multiple suitcases – and looking elated for what was to come.

            What was to come was a school-sponsored holiday trip, courtesy of the UA staff. Principal Nezu and the other teachers had decided that class 2A had been through enough shit in the past almost two years and that they deserved to relax. Cue the brilliant idea to put twenty hero students in a beach house for two whole weeks.

            Honestly, Bakugou had better things to do. The trip was optional, but encouraged, and he was more encouraged to just go home and hang out in his room all summer, but Kirishima had thrown an actual fit when he voiced that he wasn’t planning to go.

            “Bro! It’s summer vacation! We’re going to the beach! You have to go!” He whined. He was in Bakugou’s room again. How he managed to constantly worm his way in there, Bakugou didn’t know. He was always knocking on his door begging for homework help or just wanting to “hang out”, and when Bakugou stopped answering the door, he started letting himself in. It was dumb, but Bakugou couldn’t get rid of him. Over time, he was in Bakugou’s room every night and somewhere during all of it, he decided that he considered Kirishima a good friend. Not that he would ever admit that to him or anyone.

            “I don’t have to do anything, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou snapped at him. Kirishima was sitting on his bed and Bakugou sat in his desk chair, trying to focus on his homework like an actual hero-in-training and not a degenerate.

            “Okay, you don’t have to go, but it’s the beach, man!”

            “I don’t like the beach.” Bakugou grumbled, refusing to make eye contact because he just knew Kirishima was making puppy dog eyes at him and damn if they didn’t always work.

            “Everyone likes the beach, you liar.” He could hear the redhead roll his eyes at him and his eye twitched in annoyance. “Come on, man. Please. For me.”

            “Hah?” Bakugou was glad he was facing away from Kirishima, because heat rose to his cheeks. He didn’t know why. “Fuckin’ fine, I’ll go on the shitty beach trip, but I won’t like it.”

            Kirishima’s smile wattage could’ve powered all of UA for a week. “We’ll see about that, my man.”

            So now, here he was, regretting his decision more and more with each passing minute and each dumb sentence that came out of Kaminari’s mouth. Aizawa seemed equally as unimpressed with this situation.

            “Good morning.” He said blandly. “Please hurry up and get on the bus. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get back.”

            “HE’S JUST JOKING, STUDENTS!” Mic’s voice boomed, so loudly it probably broke through the sound barrier – thankfully, all of the students were partially deaf to it by now. “We’re just as excited as you are about this trip!”

            “Are you two our only chaperones?” Ashido asked. She had that mischievous glint in her eye, like she always did. The pink alien was always up to some shit and more often than not, Bakugou was dragged into it. She could be even worse than Kaminari at times. 

             “Stop thinking whatever it is that you’re thinking, Ashido.” Aizawa warned, his eyes lazily assessing her. “You won’t get away with it.”

            “That’s what he thinks.” Ashido whispered to Hagakure.

            “As aspiring young heroes in your second year, we are assuming that you know how to act.” Aizawa drawled. “Don’t forget, this trip is a privilege.” 

            Bakugou rolled his eyes. He wasn’t feeling very privileged right then. 

            “Alrighty then! Let’s get this trip rockin’ and rollin’, good students!” Mic cried. “Please make your way onto the bus in an orderly fashion!” 

            Bakugou fell into line behind Uraraka who grinned at him cheerfully as she always did. “Good morning, Katsuki!” She sang, punching him lightly in the arm. He grunted in response, but it was good-natured. Uraraka was another one on his very sparse list of classmates he could tolerate. As a whole, he didn’t scream at the class as much anymore, but they still all irritated the hell out of him – Uraraka didn’t, most of the time. She was a firecracker and loved to give him shit. She wasn’t afraid to dish it out. If he was the type of person who had multiple friends, he would consider her one of his best. They started training together after he beat her in their first Sports Festival, and then never looked back. 

            “Morning, Round Face.” He muttered. 

            “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Grumpy, grumpy. You should be looking forward to this trip.” She lowered her voice to a confidential level. “I heard we’re sharing rooms – you know what that could mean for you.” She smirked. 

            Bakugou felt his ears go red. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about that dumb shit in public. Besides, I already told you you’re wrong.” 

            Uraraka giggled and continued climbing up the stairs behind Asui. “I’m just sayin’. It could be a fun time.” 

            Bakugou grumbled something incoherent and glared at the brunette’s smug grin. She just shrugged and turned away from him. She never had any idea what she was talking about. He plopped down in the seat in front of where she sat with the frog girl and stretched his legs out, so no one would sit next to him.

            Too bad somebody he knew had no concept of personal space and jumped right on top of his legs. “Hey, dude, scoot over.” Kirishima nudged him.

            “No one told you to fuckin’ sit here, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou snapped at him, but he moved his legs anyways so that the boy could settle in. It’s not that he wanted to sit by Kirishima, but he wasn’t the worst person to get stuck next to on a two-hour bus ride. 

            The beach they were going to was at some remote location that none of the teachers would disclose due to paranoia over that damn league of idiots. They had been quiet lately, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still trying. They didn’t know when to give up. However, the staff at UA was fully confident that this was a safe trip and had assured the students so. Not that they cared anyways – a little action was always fun. Apparently, the beach house they had rented for the two weeks was big enough to hold the entire class in rooms of two including Mic and Eraser. Bakugou smirked at the idea of them sharing a room, knowing how much Eraser would hate it. 

            “You listening, man?” Kirishima poked Bakugou’s leg to get his attention and Bakugou almost smacked his hand away automatically. Kirishima was always doing shit like that – touching him like it was just a casual thing – poking and prodding and throwing arms around him and mussing up his hair. It was infuriating. It used to bother him a lot more when he first met Kirishima – unsure of what all the advances meant, but the more he watched him, the more he realized that that’s just who Kirishima was – a really goddamn touchy person. Now, he didn’t mind it, and generally let it happen. Ashido said that Kirishima was some kind of wizard for figuring out a way to be near Bakugou without him exploding. Bakugou had threatened to show her a real explosion for that one.

            “No, I’m not listening.” He said shortly. The last few stragglers made it onto the bus and sat down, and then they were moving. Bakugou stared out the window and watched the campus fade away – wishing he was on his way home and not on this stupid trip. 

            “You’re daydreaming.” Kirishima smiled big. “That’s cool, man. Have your little fantasies.” 

            Bakugou glared out the window harder, clenching his teeth to focus on not blushing at the thought of his fantasies. 

            “Shut up.” He told Kirishima, forcing the unwelcome thoughts from his head. He shouldn’t have come on this damn trip.

            “Aye, aye, captain.” He gave a mock salute, then produced a pair of headphones from his pocket. “Wanna listen?” He held out the right earbud to Bakugou, who reluctantly took it. The two boys settled into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip with soft rock music playing in their ears.

-x-

            “Welcome to your beautiful vacation home.” Aizawa couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried, but his sentiment wasn’t incorrect. The house was pretty damn impressive. It was situated right on the beach, surrounded by long stretches of shell-infused sand and facing the endless expanse of blue-green ocean, which was lapping lazily against the shore. A pleasant breeze blew Bakugou’s hair. He was lying when he said he hated the beach – the truth was, it was one of his favorite places to be, but he had a reputation to uphold.

            “Wow, this is amazing!” Cheered Uraraka, tugging on Deku’s sleeve with vigor. “Let’s go inside!” Bakugou rolled his eyes internally. Seeing Uraraka still pining over Deku was a sickening sight, but she had refused to listen to reason when he told her time and time again what a useless waste of time her crush was.

            “This is incredible. Thank you so much, Aizawa Sensei, Mic Sensei.” Yaoyorozu bowed low.

            “Wasn’t our idea.” Aizawa muttered. “You are free to pick your own rooms –”

            “Alright!” Mineta was practically trembling with excitement. “Hey, ladies, who wants to room with me?”

            “In your dreams, Grape Rape.” Ashido hissed at him.

            “Get real.” Jirou raised a jack threateningly.

            “Kero.” Asui narrowed her eyes and whipped him with her tongue.

            “You didn’t let me finish.” Aizawa’s eyes glowed red briefly before he shut them and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bakugou could see the vein twitching in his forehead. “Girls with girls and boys with boys only. If we find out you’ve been sneaking into each other’s rooms….” He trailed off, leaving the threat to the imagination.  

            At that, the class began to buzz. Everyone was shouting to each other, finding roommates.

            “Hey, Kirishima, be my roommate?” Kaminari came out of nowhere and hooked his arm around Kirishima’s shoulder. Bakugou felt a pang of something in his chest – disappointment? He had assumed the clingy redhead would want to room with him, but why should he care? He didn’t give a shit who he stayed with, as long as they shut up and left him alone – but the tightness in his chest didn’t fade.

            “Ah, I was gonna actually ask Bakugou.” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and gave Bakugou a sideways glance. “Sorry, man.”

            Kaminari grinned. “No worries, dude. I get it. Hey, Sero!” He was gone again, and Bakugou felt the weight lift.

            “So, you wanna room with me?” Kirishima smiled hopefully.

            “Whatever.” Bakugou said, but he knew what he was feeling now was relief.

            Kirishima’s expression looked like he had just been given a gift. “Cool, man! It’ll be so fun!”

            What Bakugou couldn’t figure out is why Kirishima seemed to like him so much. He liked everyone, of course – he was everyone’s favorite person, but he hung around Bakugou the most. Ever since their first day of UA, when Kirishima had approached Bakugou and teasingly challenged him about just being one behind him on the entrance exam.

            “Hey, you’re Katsuki Bakugou!” The redhead had approached him in his seat. Bakugou barely registered him, keeping his face stoic and staring at the board. “I’m Eijirou Kirishima! I finished right behind you in the entrance exam! Maybe that makes us rivals?” He had winked, and then laughed, conveying to Bakugou that he was clearly joking. Bakugou hadn’t taken it well.

            “Hah? Who do you think you’re talking to, Shitty Hair? I’ll fuckin’ destroy you!” He had clenched his fists and scowled menacingly at the annoyingly eager boy in front of him, hoping the display of anger would make him go away and never talk to Bakugou again.

            “Shitty Hair? That’s harsh, dude. I think my hair is nice.” He patted a spike gingerly. It didn’t budge.

            “It’s not.” Bakugou snapped back.

            “Well, it’s kinda similar to yours.” Kirishima had insisted. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just jealous?” He flashed a smirk, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Kidding, dude!” He threw his hands up.

            “You got a mental deficiency?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow, appraising the boy. He was similar in height to himself, with carefully gelled, obviously dyed fire-red hair. His teeth were razor sharp and seemed to be permanently fashioned into a goofy smile. Objectively, he was an attractive guy – if you were into the annoying, sunshiny type.

            “Don’t think so.” The boy put on a mock thoughtful face but couldn’t keep his mouth from curling up. “I think the doctors would’ve broken the news to my parents by now if I did.”

            “There’s still time.” Bakugou deadpanned.

            Kirishima laughed then – really laughed. The sound was like a windchime on a breezy day. The other boy’s cheeks were slightly flushed. “I like you, man. I think we’re gonna be friends.”

            “In your fuckin’ dreams, Shitty Hair.”

            Now, Kirishima was grabbing Bakugou’s wrist eagerly and pulling him into the house where they would be spending the next fourteen days together. Great.

            The inside of the house was like a scene from the jungle. His classmates were sprinting in every direction, screaming to each other, pushing each other out of the way, and sliding into rooms to claim them before anyone else could.

            “Tsu! This one has a view of the ocean! It’s ours!” Uraraka snarled as she flew past Ojiro and Shoji to secure the room. Asui hopped in after her.

            “Toru, this one has its own bathroom! Fuck off, Kaminari, I got here first!” Ashido screeched.

            “Come on, Mina, you know how long it takes to style my hair in the morning.” Kaminari wailed.

            Bakugou rolled his eyes to the ceiling. It was just a room, who cares?

            Kirishima did, apparently. “Bakugou, this one is great!” He had dragged him upstairs to a room on the top floor and was now standing proudly in the doorway. The room was the only one at the end of a short hallway and had a stunning view of the beach. It was plainly decorated with cheesy pictures and had low lighting. Two queen beds sat next to each other, spaced out by only one small night-stand in between. A small bathroom was tucked into the corner, and a door led out to a deck which Bakugou discovered had a large, bubbling hot tub right outside.

            “It’s alright.” Bakugou commented. He threw his bag and then collapsed onto the bed and closing his eyes. Maybe he could just stay in his room the entire time – it wasn’t a bad place to hang out.

            “We should hurry and unpack so we can go to the beach!” Kirishima was already throwing clothes out of his suitcase into a pile on the floor. Bakugou spied a pair of Crimson Riot pajama pants and crinkled his nose.

            “Why don’t you put your clothes away in the drawers like a normal person?” Bakugou gestured vaguely to the dresser. It was big enough for two people, easily.

            “Oh, I figured you’d want to use that. I know you’re orderly and all.” He blushed and smiled sheepishly.

            “Tch. Idiot. We can both use it. Don’t throw your shit all over the floor like some kind of animal.” Bakugou slowly rose from bed and opened his own suitcase. His clothes were folded meticulously – it was important to him to be neat and to be prepared. Kirishima was a tornado in comparison.

            “Kaminari and Sero are downstairs.” Kirishima was chattering away while he haphazardly folded his clothes and shoved them into a drawer. “I think everyone wants to go straight to the beach. We have time before dinner. Did you know Mic and Aizawa are gonna cook tonight? Think they’ll be able to make anything good?” He babbled like this all the time, and Bakugou could barely keep up. He didn’t mind. It was like pleasant background noise, and he didn’t expect Bakugou to respond much.

            “I could probably cook way better than them.” He replied passively.

            “Probably, bro. You do have the best cooking skills in the class.” Kirishima praised. His compliment was genuine and Bakugou held back a smile.

            “I fuckin’ know.” He said instead.

            Kirishima just smiled in response. “I think we’re all having a class movie night tonight too. You gotta come.”

            “Pass.” Bakugou said. Movie nights were not his thing. Prolonged socialization with big groups of people was not his thing in general.

            “Dude! What if we watch a good movie? You’ll miss out. Sero said something about having this thing that can stream movies that are still in theaters.” He whispered as if it was some earth-shattering secret.

            “So?”

            “You kill me.” Kirishima whined. He had finished piling his clothes into one drawer and stood now, holding a pair of swim trunks. “Beach?” He asked again, still hopeful even though Bakugou had ignored his last three requests.

            “Nope.” Bakugou had finished unpacking and was now opening up his laptop, pointedly avoiding Kirishima’s assuredly dejected gaze.

            “Suit yourself, dude.” He sighed then disappeared into the bathroom. Bakugou should’ve felt relief, but instead he just felt bothered. He didn’t know why, but it pissed him off. He navigated to his favorite website – Heroics Hype with Harvey – and scrolled mindlessly through stories of the most recent villain attacks.

            “You sure you don’t wanna come?” Kirishima had come out of the bathroom and his voice was bordering on pleading. Bakugou didn’t know why he cared so damn much if he went to the beach.  

            “I told you –” His eyes snapped up from his screen to meet Kirishima’s, and he froze. Kirishima was standing in front of him, arms crossed over his bare chest, wearing only a pair of red and black swim trunks. Bakugou had seen Kirishima shirtless countless times – in fact, Kirishima was probably shirtless more than he was clothed, but this time felt different. His shorts hung low on his hips, revealing sharp v-lines. His chest was gleaming with what Bakugou recognized as tanning oil and he was giving Bakugou a pouty look.

            His heart hammered in his chest.

            “What?” Kirishima asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “N-nothing. I’ll fuckin’ go. To the beach.” He stammered out before he could stop himself. “Just give me a minute.” He fumbled around for his own swim trunks, trying to keep his eyes off of Kirishima so the invasive thoughts would go away. Bakugou was being ridiculous. He didn’t like Kirishima. He didn’t like any of his classmates like that. He didn’t have time. Besides, Kirishima was a man – it’s not like Bakugou was gay or anything.

            He was just tired, that was all. Just tired.

            He made the mistake of glancing up at Kirishima then. His entire face was lit up in a heartbreakingly genuine smile.

            Bakugou had a really bad feeling about this trip.

-x-

            Bakugou took extra time in the bathroom calming himself down before he changed into his swim trunks and a tank top. He stared at himself in the mirror and splashed cold water onto his face. If he was going to survive this trip, he had to stop himself from looking at Kirishima like that. Sure, he had fantasies about his classmates that involved things other than destroying them in battle. And sure, he had one or two about Kirishima in that way, but it was always a fluke, and out of his head before the thoughts could settle. Everyone thought about their friends sooner or later – it was totally normal and didn’t mean anything, just hormones and all of that shit.

            “Almost ready in there?” Kirishima called and Bakugou growled.

            “Yeah, fuckin’ chill out. We have two weeks at this shitty beach.”

            He heard Kirishima’s soft laughter from wherever he was in the bedroom. He took a deep breath and walked out of the room. “Let’s fuckin’ go.”

            “Nice swimsuit, man.” Kirishima’s eyes looked Bakugou up and down and he felt like he was going to choke. “We kinda match, yeah?”

            Bakugou’s swim trunks were black, with red stripes. The opposite of Kirishima.

            “Tch. No. Let’s go already.” The room was too stifling for Bakugou to be in any longer. Kirishima happily obliged, completely oblivious to the identity crisis he was putting Bakugou through.

            The two left their room and headed down to the beach, bringing with them only towels. They met up with Kaminari and Sero – Bakugou never thought he’d be grateful for the idiots’ company, but he didn’t want to be alone with Kirishima when he was dealing with weird, unwelcome thoughts.

            “Everyone is coming to the beach!” Kaminari declared. His swim trunks actually had tiny pikachus on them. He really couldn’t be any stupider. He lowered his voice and leaned in towards the boys. “Guess who our room is right next to? Asui and Uraraka.”

            “How about you guys? Did you try to get a room by Ashido, Kirishima?” Sero elbowed the redhead suggestively.

            “Huh? No, man, I told you it wasn’t like that…” Kirishima managed weakly, but Sero wasn’t listening to him. Bakugou raised an eyebrow in interest. Did Kirishima like Ashido? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was all over him, but then again, she was all over all four of them.

            “Oh, sure, sure.” Sero winked. “I’m sure it’ll be like that when you see her on the beach.”

            Kirishima protested, turning a bright pink and Bakugou saw the ghost of a sad, sympathetic smile on Kaminari’s face.

            It turns out, due to Bakugou’s reluctance, that they were the last ones on the beach. Towels were strewn out across the sand and class 2A was scattered. Todoroki threw a football with Iida and Deku while Asui and Hagakure lounged nearby, giggling amongst themselves and sneaking looks at the boys. Ojiro had Uraraka up on his shoulders in the water while Shoji carried Mina. The girls appeared to be trying to push one another off. Even Tokoyami was out on the beach, although he had packed his own umbrella and was hiding under it, his head buried in a book.  

            “Ayeee, let’s go swimming!” Kaminari sprinted down to the edge of the ocean and waved them over. He and Sero stuck their feet in, then yelped at the cold and refused to commit to going all the way in, like a couple of bitches.

            “Ah,” Kirishima paused, frowning.

            “What, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou challenged. “Don’t like the water?”

            “I like it!” Kirishima cried. “I just. I…uh, I can’t swim.” He grinned sheepishly. Bakugou gaped at him in disbelief.

            “You…can’t swim? How fuckin’ old are you?” He asked incredulously.

            “It’s just not practical for me! I can’t use my quirk in the water – I’d sink!” He was blushing, the color spreading across his cheeks and clashing with his hair.

            Bakugou snorted a laugh. “Fuck, Shitty Hair. You really never learned to swim because you’re a damn rock.”

            “Oi, don’t make fun of me.” He muttered. “I’ll just stay on the beach. You go ahead.”

            Bakugou blinked at him, then growled in irritation. He was going to regret what he was about to do, there was no fucking doubt about it. “I’ll teach you how to swim, idiot.”

            Kirishima’s eyes lit up. “Really?! You’d do that?”

            “Yeah, yeah. Don’t want you to fuckin’ embarrass yourself. But privately. Those morons will just be distracting. So later.”

            “Okay! Cool, bro, thanks.”

            “Whatever. Just don’t want to be associated with someone who doesn’t possess basic fuckin’ life skills.” He rolled his eyes.

            Kirishima smiled softly. “You can go ahead in the water without me. I’m cool just hanging out here. Maybe I’ll go play football with Todoroki and Midor –”

             Bakugou didn’t let him finish. “Tch. I don’t wanna hang out with those morons. I wanna play fucking football too. Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he started stalking off towards where the shitty nerd and his shittier friends were. He knew Kirishima would follow him. He always did.

Chapter Text

 When the sun began to set, Iida called the class to attention, declaring that it was time to help Aizawa and Mic with dinner. Bakugou was worn-out from the sun and fucking starving. He waited for Kirishima to get his shit together and catch up with him. Kirishima had convinced Kaminari and Sero to join them for tossing the football, and it had turned into a full-blown four-on-three death-match, with all of the boys doing their best to one-up each other and prove their strength. Some of the girls gathered to watch. Mina cheered Kirishima on. Uraraka joined in after a few rounds and tackled Sero to the ground.

By the time Iida spoke up, everyone was exhausted and covered in sand. Kirishima had gathered his towels and sunglasses and jogged back over to Bakugou. “Nice game, right, bro?” He nudged him.

“Whatever.” He replied noncommittally. They hadn’t technically been keeping score, but Bakugou knew they won. “I’m hungry as fuck.”

“Me too. It smells amazing.” They had made it to the opened screen door, and the aroma from the kitchen was wafting out towards the beach and all of the sunburned, hungry students. When they all ambled into the cooking area, they found Aizawa and Mic scurrying around, throwing things into bowls, gathering ingredients and shoving things into the oven. It was the fastest Bakugou had seen Aizawa move outside of a battle. It seemed that their teachers were going all-out for their first night there and preparing some kind of elaborate feast.

“CLASSSS 2A!” Mic bellowed. Aizawa’s eye twitched, and the other man lowered his voice apologetically. “It’s time to get to woooork!”

“I thought they were supposed to be cooking for us.” Muttered Kaminari, disappointed.

“You want a meal for twenty-two? You’re gonna have to contribute.” Aizawa said blandly. “Kaminari…not you.”

It was a good call.

Aizawa assigned everyone who was competent enough to be in the kitchen stations – Momo and Iida were given vegetables because they could be trusted with knives, Uraraka and Asui were making broth, Midoriya and Todoroki were in charge of sushi and sashimi, Jirou and Mina were cooking the rice, Satou was showing Ojiro and Shoji how to craft perfect onigiri.

"There you are –” Aizawa walked up to Bakugou and said, as if he was supposed to have shown up at a certain time and was arriving late. “Can you make the udon? Have Kirishima help you.” Bakugou snorted.

"I can handle the fucking udon by myself.” He scoffed. He didn’t need any help. Other than the battlefield, this was his element. Aizawa gave him a blank look, then shrugged and skulked away to berate Mic for not using enough spice on something. 

Bakugou fell into his familiar routine of prep-work, grabbing ingredients from their respective shelves and piling them up around him. He found a metal bowl and began mixing. He took up cooking at a young age, as something to do other than train all the damn time. His mom had been adamant that he be able to take care of himself when he was older and forced him to learn. Like many things, he found he was a natural at it. His determination to be the best spread across all mediums, and heroes had to have a diverse skillset.

“What’re you making?” A low voice asked into his ear and he shivered involuntarily. Kirishima had snuck up behind him and was, as usual, standing way too fucking close. Bakugou wanted to take a step forward, but he was already pushed up against the counter. He kept his cool.

“Udon. Go make yourself useful somewhere else, I don’t need any help.” He snapped, hoping his biting tone would make Kirishima go away and stop distracting him. Or at least take a damn step back. Unfortunately for him, this was Kirishima. If anyone could take Bakugou’s attitude, it was him. 

“They don’t need any help either.” He said good-naturedly. “I just like watching you. It’s like watching a cooking show.” The redhead had stars in his eyes and Bakugou grunted in response, feeling his face grow hot with the compliment. It wasn’t a new thing – Kirishima was always praising Bakugou, but it was mostly about his fighting skills, and everyone complimented Bakugou on those.

“Don’t say weird shit.” He mumbled. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Ah, you don’t mind me that much.” Kirishima teased. He had moved backwards and Bakugou could breathe again.

"Says you.” He continued with his rhythm, mixing the ingredients for the noodles together with his hands. Kirishima watched as if mesmerized.

“For someone who creates explosions with their hands, you’re pretty gentle.” He pointed out off-handedly. Bakugou froze. Was Kirishima flirting with him, or was he imagining it? He always said dumb shit, but it was like he had turned the dial up to eleven since stepping off the bus. He scrunched his eyebrows together and shook the thought out of his head.

“I’ll fuckin’ show you what my hands can do if you don’t leave me alone.” He snarled at him. Kirishima’s eyes went wide, and a flush crept into his cheeks, and it was then that Bakugou realized exactly how his sentence had sounded. Bad. “I mean I’ll blow up your goddamn face, stupid.” He corrected himself, trying to keep his voice even. His heart thumped in his chest. He couldn’t believe he had said something like that to Kirishima – and what more, Kirishima had blushed, like it had affected him. 

"Yeah, I knew what you meant.” Kirishima laughed nervously. “Anyways, I’ll let you concentrate now. See you, Baku!” He scurried away to Kaminari, who was shouting encouragement from the sidelines and not helping, which was all for the better because there was no way in hell that idiot even knew how to hold a spoon. Bakugou should have felt relief that Kirishima had left him alone, but instead he was filled with guilt and something like disappointment. He hoped he hadn’t made him uncomfortable with his comment. He needed to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes, but for some reason, Kirishima made it so hard to think lately.

He took a deep breath and finished his prep work and took in the rest of the chaotic scene in the kitchen. Aizawa and Mic had clearly overestimated their students’ intelligence levels – Midoriya fumbled over sashimi while Todoroki watched curiously, not offering any help even though Bakugou was sure the half-and-half could do a better job. He seemed to be wanting to help him learn. Momo and Iida were diligently working together as expected, while Jirou watched the taller girl with a look of admiration in her eyes. Mina chased Hagakure’s clothes through the dining room now that the rice was cooking, shrieking about how her dinner item would be unbeatable.

There was a crash and a girly scream and Bakugou watched as Kaminari threw a handful of flour into Uraraka’s hair. She grabbed at his shirt and pulled him into the kitchen, shaking the flour out of her hair and onto him, giggling the whole time.

“Stop behaving like children!” Aizawa snapped, his eyes glowing red. The two looked away from each other sheepishly. Their haggard teacher shooed everyone out of the kitchen except those who were actually doing something, which left things more peaceful. Bakugou breathed a sigh of relief at being able to work uninterrupted – until he was much more face-to-face with Kirishima’s puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck, don’t do that, Shitty Hair!” He had jumped back in surprise at the redhead’s proximity to him. 

“Sorry, bro.” He smiled, sharp teeth gleaming. Bakugou had never paid much attention to his teeth before – he wondered what it would feel like if Kirishima bit him.

Fuck. That was a weird thought. He frowned. 

“Uraraka said you needed help.” Kirishima further explained. He also had some excuse for being up in Bakugou’s space.

Of course she did – the asshole. “I told you that I don’t.” 

“Well, maybe I can learn from you then?” He peeked into the bowl. He was relentless. “Whatcha doing now?”

“Same thing I was doing earlier, idiot.” He resisted the urge to push Kirishima out of the way. He couldn’t focus on making the perfect udon with him all up in his face. “I’m rolling out the dough now, then I’m gonna cut it into noodles.”

“Cool!” 

“You’re like a damn puppy sometimes.” Bakugou grumbled. He was just rolling dough and Kirishima was watching like it was the single greatest thing he had ever seen. It was embarrassing. 

“Quit it.” He snapped at him. 

“Quit what?”

“Fucking staring at me!” 

“Oh, sorry, man. It’s just cool.” He grinned. “Can I try?” 

“It’s pretty fuckin’ easy so I hope you don’t need to try it to get it right.” He rolled his eyes but backed up. Kirishima eagerly accepted his invitation and stood in front of the pile of dough. Bakugou lazily handed him the roller, and Kirishima went to work, grinding the poor dough into a pulp.

“Oi, chill out!” He grabbed Kirishima’s arms. “Don’t need to fucking destroy it.”

“Sorry – I’ve never been a great cook.” He shrugged, but the smile didn’t leave his face. 

“Tch. Like this.” Bakugou stood behind Kirishima and without thinking, wrapped his wrists around the redhead’s and moved his hands to roll the dough out with much less vigor, so that they would still be able to salvage actual noodles from it. He continued the motions several times over until he was sure Kirishima would have to understand. He looked up at the boy and found him staring back at him, lips slightly parted, looking stunned. It made his head swim.

“What’s the fucking issue?” He asked, releasing him and stepping away quickly. The room suddenly felt stifling despite the open windows and the ocean breeze flowing through. 

“Nothing!” Kirishima cried. He closed his mouth and resumed his ceaseless smiling. “Thanks for teaching me, Baku.” 

Bakugou relaxed again. He was back to his dorky and over-enthusiastic self. “Yeah, don’t mention it. Now get lost.” 

The rest of the meal preparation went smoothly and thankfully without interruption. An hour or so later, and everyone was seated on two long benches around a dining room table that took up the entire room. 

“Thank you for the food!” The class chorused. Aizawa sighed, and Mic took a bow. Kirishima plopped down in the seat next to him, sandwiching him between him and Uraraka, who was purposely elbowing him closer to Kirishima, just to be annoying. He elbowed her back, but she didn’t protest when she bumped against Pikachu’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes.

“This udon is delicious, Bakugou!” Kirishima said, talking with his mouth full.

“Dude, chew with your mouth closed.” Sero said from across the table, his face contorted in disgust. Kirishima swallowed a giant gulp and smirked. Next to him, Mina giggled.

“You’re an animal, Kiri.” She said, her voice bordering on sultry. It soured Bakugou’s mood. The alien freak was flirty with everyone in the class, but she seemed to have a raging hard-on for Kirishima. She was always near him, always touching him, always whispering in his ear and kissing his cheek. It was probably because he was one of the few guys who didn’t want to fuck her. Kaminari and Sero had both had their phases with her, and she had made her way through a good chunk of the eligible 2B men. Kirishima didn’t really react to her advances other than nervous laughter or his signature shark-toothed smile. Bakugou couldn’t get a good read on the situation and Kirishima had never brought it up, but it was common knowledge that Mina worked harder for his attention than any of her other muses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so rude, I know.” Kirishima laughed. “I was raised by wolves.”

“I like that – I think it’s cute.” There she went again. Bakugou hated watching her play her games with him – it was sickening, and Kirishima just played along. “Maybe I should feed you?”

“Man, can’t you guys go to your bedroom for that?” Jirou complained. “You’re making me sick.”

Bakugou knew he liked Jirou for a reason. 

“Don’t be jealous of our love.” Mina stuck her tongue out. “We don’t all have to be the type who just broods from afar.” Her eyes flashed. Jirou threw a noodle at her and Mina gasped in shock but then laughed. “Wanna eat it off my face, Kiri?” She teased. 

“Actually gonna throw up.” Jirou turned to Asui to save herself from the fate of this conversation. Bakugou wished he could do the same, but Uraraka was deeply involved in a lively discussion with Kaminari about an anime they were both watching. Uraraka’s eyes lit up as she talked, and Kaminari watched her intensely, nodding animatedly and laughing every ten seconds. 

He didn’t know which he wanted to watch less – Mina flirting with Kirishima or Uraraka flirting with the literal dumbest boy in their class. He opted to eat silently instead.

“Hey,” Kirishima said in a low voice, almost in Bakugou’s ear again. He startled, because the idiot loved to sneak up on him, then muttered out an unenthusiastic: “what.”

“You still gonna teach me how to swim tonight?” He sounded hopeful.

“Sure, whatever.” Bakugou answered gruffly.

“Nice, dude. Looking forward to it.” He pulled away and smiled before launching into a debate with Sero and Mina about which hero teams would be superior when they were pros.

Bakugou stared into his mostly empty bowl. He found was looking forward to it too.

-x-

Kirishima was antsy through the entire movie. Bakugou hadn’t gone, which was disappointing, and distracted him from the action taking place on the screen. Mina sat pressed against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He never stopped these advances from Mina – he didn’t like conflict, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, maybe it was selfish of him, but it kept suspicion off of him. If people thought he liked Mina, they wouldn’t realize his secret.

The movie dragged on, and all he could think about was his swimming lessons with Bakugou after. Private swimming lessons. At night. In bathing suits.

It was enough to fry his brain like Kaminari.

“You good, Ei?” Mina whispered into his ear, purposely letting her lips brush up against his skin. This girl had flirting down to a science. It’s too bad she wasted her talents on him.

“Yeah, fine.” He smiled. “Just not super into the movie.” He shrugged.

“What? You love stupid action movies!” She accused him.

“Eh, sometimes.” He shrugged. He had hardly watched a single minute of the movie. He wished he was back in his room, hanging out with Bakugou, but he just kept reminding himself that he had plans to meet him in just a few hours, after everyone had gone to bed.

“You’re acting weird. You up to something?”

"No, what would I be up to?” Kirishima was a terrible liar. Everyone knew it, and Mina had a tendency not to let things go.

“I don’t know, Ei, you tell me.” She goaded him.

“It’s nothing, Mina. Don’t worry about it.”

If he had been paying more attention, he would’ve seen the clear displeasure on Mina’s face, and the look of determination that she always wore when she was dead-set on finding something out.

-x-

“Let’s go, Shitty Hair, in the water.” Bakugou waded in the pool, beckoning to Kirishima with his eyes. It was quiet outside; the only sound was the bubbling of the hot tub that was tucked away in the corner of the swimming area. Kirishima bit his lip nervously – a nasty habit that he couldn’t seem to get rid of, even after years of tasting blood. He was anxious, admittedly, because he didn’t know how to swim, and had a small phobia of water. It wasn’t unwarranted – when he was younger, he and an old friend had gone off to a local river and decided it would be a great place for a swim. At 8, Kirishima had failed to draw the conclusion that in order to go swimming in any body of water, you had to actually be able to swim. In a panic, he had activated his quirk and sank right to the bottom. His life had flashed before his eyes in that moment as the breath was crushed out of him by the flowing river water. He had accepted his fate and closed his eyes before he was plucked to the shore by his friend’s older brother. They had been heavily scolded for that stunt, and Kirishima had stayed away from water ever since. 

"You having an epiphany or something? Earth to Kirishima.” Bakugou’s voice snapped him back to reality. He emerged slightly from the water, looking bored and…and perfect. That was the main source of his nerves – he was alone with Bakugou, at night, swimming. That was romantic, wasn’t it? 

No, you idiot, his brain told him, he absolutely does not like you like that. He’s just your best bro. Don’t make it weird. 

Kirishima had become an expert at not making it weird. He was going on year two of his hopeless crush on Bakugou, and he had been excelling at keeping it hidden. They did everything together, and Kirishima constantly kept his affection to a suitable level. Sure, he got touchy here and there, but he made sure to display that level of touchiness with all of his friends, so as to deter suspicion. 

But with their proximity during this trip, he was finding it harder than ever to hold back. Especially when he walked around so casually looking like an actual Adonis. He had no right to torment Kirishima like that. He didn’t have any idea what he was doing to him. 

Nobody knew about his shameless crush on Bakugou – he hadn’t even confided in Kaminari, who was one of his best friends. He didn’t want to be judged. When questions about girls came up, he would dodge them, and just laugh along with the other guys when they were talking about them. Girls had come onto him many times in the past two years – his own classmates, some from class 2B, even older and younger girls, but he had told them all respectfully that he was not interested, and that he was too busy focusing on becoming a hero to date.

It wasn’t true. He would gladly date – if only the one person he wanted would ask him. 

He wasn’t wasting his hopes on it. He had picked the worst possible guy to crush on. Not only was Bakugou clearly straight, but he was hyper focused on his desire to be the best. Kirishima wasn’t even sure if he had normal teenage hormones – he might’ve suppressed them in exchange for more fighting stamina. The only person Kirishima thought Bakugou could be potentially interested in was Uraraka, and that was mostly because she matched his attitude and determination. She was so cute, too. Kirishima couldn’t compete with that.

“Oi, Kirishima!” Bakugou growled now, annoyed. “You gonna keep me in here by myself all night or are you gonna learn to fuckin’ swim?” The blonde boy had swam over to his side and was propping himself half out of the pool by his arms. Kirishima could’ve fainted. He had to know what he was doing.

“S-sorry, man.” He stammered. “Just working myself up to it.” 

“Well, work faster, or I’ll have to drag you in.” Bakugou grumbled, red eyes rolling up to the clear night sky with an impatient air. Kirishima turned his head to hide his blush – he wouldn’t mind being dragged in.

Focus, he told himself sternly. You’re making it weird. 

“Right, coming.” He said. He dipped his toes in tentatively, tensing at the cold water. It was a warm night, but with the absence of the sun, he still shivered slightly. Maybe it wasn’t from the lack of sun at all. 

“Fuck, you’re such a baby.” Bakugou goaded him. “Starting to think this is hopeless.” 

“No, no!” Kirishima protested. “Don’t give up on me yet. I can do this.” He took a deep breath. “I just – need a minute.”

“I don’t have a minute, moron.” Bakugou jumped out of the water faster than Kirishima could react and wrapped his hands around his ankles.

“Hey, don’t!” He gasped, but it was too late, the blonde had pulled him unceremoniously into the water, thrashing and panicking. He went underwater with an impressive splash, and he immediately went into high alert mode. He couldn’t stand, he couldn’t stand – he was going to drown. 

His head broke through the water and he inhaled sharply, coughing and sputtering. His hands were clinging to something solid, but his hair was plastered to his face and covering his eyes. He waited a few minutes until his breathing evened out, then ran his hands over what he was holding onto. He squeaked. 

“Ah! Bakugou!”

“Try not to immediately drown, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou’s arms were around him, around his waist, and Kirishima was clutching onto him like a monkey. His heart beat erratically in his chest. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He needed to let go, but if he did, he would be back in this original position. He couldn’t stand here. “Uh, I – I can’t – I can’t –”

“Relax.” Bakugou snorted, he removed a hand from Kirishima’s waist and lazily brushed the hair out of his eyes. They were close – too close. Kirishima was going to start hyperventilating. “You gotta calm down, or you’re never gonna learn. Here.” He was moving, with Kirishima still holding onto him for dear life. Their chests were touching, and Kirishima’s crotch was dangerously close to Bakugou’s. He quickly brought to mind everything unpleasant that he could think of – math homework, overcooked vegetables, losing battles –

“Oi, grab on.” Bakugou said gruffly. 

“Huh?” 

“To the wall? Idiot. You can let go of me now.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course!” He sputtered. Bakugou had dragged him over to the edge of the pool, where he could now safely hold onto something other than Bakugou. “T-thanks.” 

"You’re really a mess.” Bakugou pointed out passively. Kirishima’s heartbeat increased even more – if it didn’t relax, Bakugou was going to hear it. Was he being that obvious? “You must really hate the fuckin’ water.” 

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t hate it. I want to be able to swim with everyone. It’s just…bad memories, ya know?”

Bakugou nodded, true understanding falling over his face. Bakugou had plenty of fears, Kirishima knew. He would never admit them, but Kirishima had heard him shouting in the room next to him from the nightmares. He had stayed up with him many nights under the preface of studying, or playing video games, when he knew Bakugou was just too stressed to sleep and didn’t want to be alone. It was selfish to admit, but those were his favorite nights. 

"Won’t be able to get rid of the bad ones unless you replace them with good ones.” Bakugou muttered, looking away. “So may as well try to learn this shit.” 

Kirishima was gripping the wall tightly and kicking his legs passively to try and get the rhythm of swimming, but he was afraid if he let go, he would just go down again. He glanced at the water, frowning.

Bakugou noticed his face. “Tch, idiot. I won’t let you drown. That’s the whole point of teaching, isn’t it?”

“R-right.” Kirishima nodded, still pale and terrified of the situation as a whole. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try it. Teach me.”

Bakugou grinned. “Alright, watch me first.” 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Bakugou slept in.

That phrase was unheard of in his vocabulary, and for good reason. Someone who was striving to be number one didn’t have time to sleep in – he was always up by 5 AM so that he could have at least an hour to work out before class and still have time to shower and get ready. Everyone gave him shit for going to bed at 8 PM, but that was why he was going to be the next number one hero, and they would be stuck as permanent extras.  

However, this morning, he rolled over to his side lazily and blinked sleep out of his eyes. He felt around blindly for his phone, and clicked the home button, bringing the screen to life.

7:37 AM. “Fuck.” He groaned loudly, forgetting he wasn’t alone in the room. He propped up on his elbow and glanced over at the bed next to him. Kirishima slept like a cat, curled up into a ball on his side, mouth open and hair splayed across his pillow. Bakugou snorted because it was exactly the way he’d imagine the other boy would sleep. He was even drooling.

The two of them had stayed in the pool until their fingers were pruned and their hair reeked of chlorine – which was a little after 1 AM. Kirishima was a hopeless case when it came to the water – a bumbling, nervous wreck. Every time Bakugou had forced him to let go of the wall and venture out of his comfort zone to the center of the pool, the redhead had panicked and ended up holding onto Bakugou for dear life like some kind of terrified toddler. 

The first time it had happened, Bakugou had been too distracted by the fact that the idiot had almost drowned to think much about the proximity of their bodies. Besides, they had sparred before, and Kirishima was so damn touchy, so he was no stranger to being close to Kirishima’s body. After the adrenaline had left him and he was sure Kirishima was calmed down, he realized how firm and how warm Kirishima’s body felt pressed against him, and how strong his arms were that were gripping him. It was a different sensation than he was used to – the only other person who he had held like that was Uraraka, once, and the juxtaposition of soft to hard was glaringly obvious between the two. Bakugou didn’t prefer the soft. He had brushed his wet hair out his face almost automatically, like touching Kirishima was a natural thing.

Without realizing it, he found himself looking for more excuses to touch him, almost as if he had no control over his own hands. He would reach out and place his hands on his hips to guide him in the water, maybe pushing him a little harder than he should have just so he would be able to feel his arms cling to him for safety. He told himself it was because he was trying to teach Kirishima – he wouldn’t learn if he didn’t practice, and of course he wouldn’t be perfect right off the bat and be able to swim without holding onto Bakugou for help. Of course. It was logical. Besides, Kirishima touched him all the damn time – he touched everyone all the time, so what was the harm with Bakugou touching him?

By the end of the night, the boy had doggy-paddling down, but it was a pretty pathetic display. He wouldn’t drown immediately, but he wouldn’t be able to hold his own in the water for very long either. They would be back at the pool tonight, and Bakugou tried to keep himself neutral about it. He enjoyed training. That’s what it was. 

That’s what he told himself as he stared at the redhead as he slept.

He needed some fucking normalcy right then. Something to clear his head.

He needed to go on a run. 

                         -x-

“Hey, there you are.” When Bakugou returned from his run, Kirishima was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to tame his hair into something passable. Bakugou didn’t know why he bothered – the elaborate spikes that he had been doing since their first year was too much damn effort, and he looked just as good with his hair down or thrown up in a ponytail. Not that he would ever tell him that.

His run hadn’t done anything to clear his head. If anything, he felt shittier now. 

Bakugou hadn’t answered so as usual Kirishima, with his necessity to fill every silence, plowed on. “Where’d you go?” 

“Running.” Bakugou grunted in response, pushing past him so he could get into the bathroom. He was drenched in sweat and smelled like salt; he needed to shower but Kirishima was monopolizing the room, checking himself out in the mirror. Bakugou glanced at him, trying to keep his expression passive. He was dressed better than usual, for him. The idiot had less than zero fashion sense, but it was obvious he made an effort today. He was wearing dark-washed jeans, tight enough to draw attention, and a white button-down shirt. It was casual, but he looked good. Objectively. “You almost done playing fuckin’ dress up so I can shower?” He asked, not really irritated, but trying to force himself to be. If he found Kirishima annoying, then he wouldn’t find him so goddamn enticing, but it was harder than he would ever imagine to find him annoying these days. He was just so used to him.

“I don’t think I’m pretty enough yet.” Kirishima joked, gelling up another spike. Bakugou kept his mouth clamped shut, not trusting himself to respond to that. “We’re going into town today.” 

“The shitty beach town?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “What’s there to fuckin’ do there?”

“Shop, explore, eat, people-watch, eat.” Kirishima listed off the options like each was more exciting than the other. 

“You said eat twice, idiot.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. Kirishima just grinned. 

“Yeah, man, best part!” He finished styling his hair and pursed his lips as he examined his reflection one more time.

“You meeting a date in this shitty town or something?” Bakugou asked nonchalantly. He didn’t care, but Kirishima putting this much effort into how he dressed was unusual. He usually opted for horribly bright outfits that clashed, generally accompanied by his favorite pair of red crocs. It hurt Bakugou’s eyes. 

Color flooded Kirishima’s cheeks and he refused to meet Bakugou’s eyes. “Nah, just felt like looking good, I guess.”

“It’s a fuckin’ step up from the crocs.” Bakugou admitted. 

“Dude, don’t diss the crocs.” He groaned.

“Get out so I can shower.” Bakugou was sick of standing there and talking to him, and his shirt was heavy with sweat. He pulled it off and threw it in the corner. He thought he saw Kirishima’s eyes snap to him, but they were gone so quickly that he couldn’t tell if he imagined it.

“Yeah, sure thing, dude. Hurry up, though. Aizawa said he’ll leave people behind if we aren’t ready on time.” Now, he kept his eyes fixated pointedly on himself in the mirror.

“What a goddamn shame that would be.” Bakugou said in the most sarcastic tone he could manage. A smile tugged on Kirishima’s lips, then he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Bakugou let out a sigh once he was alone in the room. The run didn’t work – maybe cold water would shock some sense into him. He stepped into the shower and grimaced when the icy stream hit him, but it did help clear the fuzziness from his brain. He wondered what it was about this place, about this trip, that had him so fucking bothered over his friend. Normally, he would avoid going on some kind of stupid day-trip to a useless town, but somehow, he was excited by it. He pictured walking around with Kirishima, listening to him run his mouth, letting himself get pulled into shops and not minding because it was Kirishima. 

He ran his hands through his hair aggressively, trying to reach his damn brain to get it to stop. He had never experienced anything like this before. Admittedly, he was an obsessive person – every time he focused on something, it tended to consume him. It was why he was such a damn good hero, because he had a fixation on being the best and that was all he could pursue. 

His headstrong behavior had never been attached to a person, though. He never gave the majority of his classmates a second thought, but Kirishima had always been different. He had adhered himself to Bakugou on day one, had fought hard to make him see him as an equal – not that he needed to; he had Bakugou’s respect almost immediately. There was something about him, a fire, a passion that drew Bakugou in and earned his trust. Kirishima wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else. He didn’t get discouraged by Bakugou’s initial rage and harsh attitude. He just kept coming back. Again and again, until Bakugou no longer felt the need to push him away.

When the fucking League of Idiots kidnapped him, he had sworn that he would get out on his own. He wouldn’t let anyone save him – not that time, not again. But when the situation had begun to feel hopeless and he could feel the panic settling deep in his chest, and he saw Kirishima there, with the rest of his dumbass classmates, well, he didn’t mind being saved then. 

That was the moment where Kirishima became his friend, and they were inseparable from then on, but Bakugou had never noticed him in this way, not until this damn stupid trip that he shouldn’t have gone on. 

He blamed hormones – he was a teenager after all, he wouldn’t be able to avoid dealing with everything that came with that forever. He just had to keep pushing against the thoughts, ignoring the obsession, focusing on shit that mattered. He had trained himself to suppress many feelings before – this one wouldn’t be any different. 

His skin had gone numb to the chilling water that rained down against his skin. He felt calmer with his internal declaration. Suppressing emotions was something he had a lot of practice with. He could do this. He would do this.

“Bro!” Kirishima shouted, his voice close enough that he must’ve been pressed up against the door. “Hurry up – I won’t have any fun if you get left behind!”

Bakugou had a feeling this shit would be one of the more challenging things he had ever had to do, but he was always up for a damn challenge. 

-x-

Kirishima bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to keep his nerves contained to a reasonable level, but it obviously wasn’t working very well, because Kaminari gave him a sideways glance and asked, “Dude, you on drugs? I didn’t give you any, so I’m going to be hurt if it’s a yes.”

“No.” Kirishima answered indignantly. “I’m just, excited to go into town.”

“I can tell.” Kaminari said suspiciously. “Had me dress you and everything, which, you’re welcome for letting you borrow my good clothes. Maybe I needed those but I made a sacrifice for my good buddy.” He rolled his eyes in a teasing way.

“Thank you.” Kirishima mumbled sheepishly. The two were sitting in the living room, waiting for the rest of the class to get their acts together and get ready to leave. A few of the other students were scattered around them, but most of them – mainly the girls – were still prepping.

“You gonna tell me what this is all about?” Kaminari questioned casually.

“All what?” Kirishima’s heart hammered. He was trying so hard not to be obvious, but he had never excelled in subtlety.

“This. You.” He gestured to Kirishima in general. “You’ve never been one to care about fashion, and you’re jittery.”

“Ah, yeah, I’m trying to get into it.” He said quickly, trying to prevent a blush from creeping into his cheeks. His face always betrayed him. “And I’m not jittery. I told you, I’m excited.

Kaminari just smirked. “If you’re trying to impress someone, you should tell me. I’m a great wingman.” The blonde winked.

“No, it’s not that!” Kirishima protested, too frantically. He had to calm down, or he’d end up accidentally confessing something. Kirishima had a big problem with word vomit – he spoke first, then thought later. Most of his friends found it endearing, but it was bound to get him in trouble sooner or later. “I don’t…I don’t care about any of that stuff.” He finished lamely, hoping his lie came out convincingly. Kaminari nodded, the expression on his face saying clearly that he didn’t believe him one bit. Kirishima bit his lip nervously but reminded himself that he had done a good job of keeping quiet about his crush; doing all the right things to throw people off the scent. If he had to guess, he’d say that Kaminari probably thought he was into Mina. He didn’t exactly tell people he wasn’t, and everyone always drew their own conclusions.

As if summoned by the thought of her, Mina appeared in the living room, flanked by Hagakure. Both were dressed to impress – Mina’s curls were extra bouncy, and she had opted to wear a red jumpsuit, which you’d think would clash would her pink skin, but only made her glow more radiantly.

Mina was beautiful, and Kirishima often found himself wishing he could just give in to her. He could probably fake it – he could learn to hold her hand in public, to take her on dinner dates, to kiss her. Maybe if he put on an act for long enough, he could even convince himself that he was normal, that he wasn’t broken, that he didn’t have a crush on the completely wrong person. He knew that he could do it, but deep inside of him he knew that no amount of forcing himself to behave like he was straight would work. He was who he was, and he was trying to accept that, but it was hard. He was scared. And Mina was great. She was one of his best friends, but she was Mina; she was soft, pink skin and pretty curls and dresses and a high-pitched giggle. She was strong, but not in the way that Kirishima wanted – she wasn’t brash, or vulgar, or so solid. She wasn’t Bakugou, and no matter what he tried to tell himself, his heart wouldn’t let him want anyone but his explosive friend.

Harmlessly indulging in Mina’s flirting was one thing – it was innocent, and it kept him safe from having to admit his shameful secret. Full on faking a relationship with her in order to deny who he really was entered a whole new territory of messed up, and he wouldn’t hurt Mina in that way.

“Hi, Ei! Hi Denki!” In their two years of being classmates, the girls had gotten more comfortable with calling everyone by their first names. It still intimated Kirishima slightly; it was a level of intimacy that he didn’t share with many people, but no one seemed to mind when the girls did it. Mina had practically forced them to call her by her given name from day one, complaining that Ashido made her feel too stuffy and formal. “Super excited about this excursion!” 

“Mina, you’ve been working on your vocabulary.” Kaminari praised her and Mina bristled.

“I’m not last in the class anymore, Den, I believe that title belongs to you.” She simpered back. Hagakure giggled next to her. 

“Don’t make me sound stupid.” The blonde flushed. “I’m trying to work on my image – I have a very impressive girl to make fall in love with me.”

“Oh, here we go.” Mina rolled her eyes.

“Who?” Hagakure gasped. Kirishima was curious too – his friend hadn’t mentioned a new crush. Jirou had rejected him not too long ago, for reasons Kaminari either didn’t know or wouldn’t admit, and the electric boy had been moping about it for weeks. Kaminari tended to hit on every girl in every single class, but he could get serious about things when he wanted to. That included girls. He couldn’t imagine who he was after now.

“I’m going for Uraraka.” He announced proudly. Kirishima frowned. Uraraka was an ambitious choice, especially so soon after a rejection. Other than Bakugou, she spent most of her time with Midoriya and his friends – the elite of 2A. They seemed untouchable at times. Kirishima had been surprised when Uraraka had started hanging out around Bakugou. He wasn’t exactly easy to handle, but Uraraka marched right up to him after the Sports Festival and demanded that they train together. He had been there when it happened, and remembered his mouth dropping open, amazed at her ballsiness. Bakugou must’ve been taken with it too, because after that, Kirishima was no longer Bakugou’s sole sparring partner. That was when he had first begun to feel the stirrings of his crush on the blonde, when jealousy over sharing him with Uraraka forced itself into his brain.

Kirishima thought Bakugou was interested in Uraraka. He had long since admitted to himself that the other boy was straight – it didn’t make his crush go away regardless. He couldn’t help it. After last night, though, he was reeling. He and Bakugou had stayed in the pool all night. He taught Kirishima with a patience that he didn’t know Bakugou was capable of – his touches were gentle, unless he was plucking him out of the water so he wouldn’t drown. He couldn’t have been imagining how eager he seemed to touch him last night. You could teach someone to swim without touching them, right?

He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high, because there was a large possibility that it was all in his head, and he was projecting what he wanted to see onto Bakugou. After all, Kirishima was a touchy person by nature, maybe it had just rubbed off onto Bakugou. It didn’t seem likely, but he decided there was no harm in continuing to push it ever so slightly, to see if his thoughts had any basis in reality. That was why he had begged Kaminari to dress him for this trip – he wanted to see if he could keep Bakugou’s attention on him. It was already working; the blonde had definitely noticed him this morning. 

Maybe something could be there. In any sense, it would be good to keep Uraraka occupied by someone else. Just in case.

“That’s a good idea, man.” Kirishima said, smiling genuinely at Kaminari. “I think you have a good chance.”

Mina hummed and grimaced, but Kirishima silenced her with a look. Kaminari grinned back with a determined look in his eyes.

“Something about being at the beach, man…I think there’s more romance in the air.” He said, almost dreamily. “She’s so pretty, and so cool.”

“Totally agree.” Kirishima nodded vigorously.

“I know what you mean.” Mina snaked her arm around Kirishima’s waist. “Being on vacation just makes me want to snuggle up to someone. Right, Ei?” He let Mina leave her arm there, ignoring the guilt in his chest. He really should let Mina down easy, but she acted as such a good cover.

“What are you morons talking about?” A rough voice demanded. Bakugou had finally emerged from their room and made it out to where the rest of his classmates waited. Kirishima had to focus really hard on not gaping open-mouthed at him. 

Because Bakugou looked good. Well, he always looked good. That was just a fact that everyone was aware of. Bakugou and Todoroki were tied evenly for the most physically appealing guys in the class. There wasn’t a girl in the entire school who hadn’t fantasized about either of them at one point. Or guys. Like Kirishima. Bakugou had grown since his first year, and now stood just slightly taller than Kirishima. With all his time spent working out, he was well-muscled and toned. And there was the whole brooding, angry act that did things to Kirishima. Bad things.

Today was no exception – in fact, he was even more beautiful than usual. Bakugou wore fitted, black jeans that hugged his ass, and wow, it should really be illegal to look that good. He had on a white t-shirt that clung to his body, and a leather jacket. His hair was still damp from the shower, and it was sticking up in all directions like usual, but in that perfect way that suited him so well. It wasn’t fair. Kirishima was already so weak. How did Bakugou manage to ruin him so effortlessly?

“Ah, look who’s participating in something!” Kaminari cheered. 

“Who the fuck was talking to you, Pikachu? I participate in plenty of shit. I’m at this beach, aren’t I?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the blonde, irritation radiating off of his body.  Kirishima sighed. No matter how hard he tried to make his two best friends get along, there was always tension in the air. Every time Kaminari opened his mouth, Bakugou seemed to stiffen, to roll his eyes, to scoff. In his defense, Kaminari could be a little much sometimes, but he had a good heart. He just needed not to agitate Bakugou so much. It was like dangling your fingers in front of an aggressive, bitey Pomeranian.

“We’re not talking about anything!” Kirishima interjected, answering Bakugou’s earlier question before Kaminari could make another smart-mouthed comment. He didn’t think it was the best idea for Bakugou to know that Kaminari was pursuing Uraraka – even if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her, they were clearly close, and he would probably not take too well to have someone like Kaminari going after her. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Bakugou didn’t seem to buy it and was now glaring at Kaminari like he just knew he was up to something that would piss him off.

Thankfully, the uncomfortable conversation and potential murder that would have resulted from it was avoided due to Aizawa trudging into the living room, Mic in tow, who was looking way too thrilled standing next to the haggard man. 

“Are we READY?!” Mic shouted. Kirishima felt his ears pop. 

“Yes, here! We’re here!” Uraraka and Asui skidded into the room, followed by Momo and Jirou. All four were dressed their best, sundresses, hats, full-faced makeup, so Kirishima clearly wasn’t the only one aiming to impress here. Kaminari waved to Uraraka cheerfully and she smiled back. Bakugou scowled at both of them.

“Don’t you all clean up well?” Aizawa asked dryly, raising one eyebrow. Their teacher seemed to have put his own level of effort in – his hair was tied into a low ponytail to keep it out of his face, and he had on a black V-neck shirt. “Not sure what the occasion is, but…” He trailed off, watching as several of his students blushed and looked away, Kirishima included. A small smile twitched on his lips. “We’ll stay in town until dinner time. You can do whatever you want while there – it’s a small town, so you won’t be able to wander very far. We’ll meet for dinner at six. He paused, then gave them all a steely look. “I can trust you as soon-to-be-third years to behave yourself appropriately, right?” 

“Yes, sir!” The class chorused. Bakugou scoffed under his breath and Kirishima held back a smile. 

“Good.” He nodded once. Mic looked like he might burst into an impromptu jam session at any moment. His smile was blinding. “Then once we get off the bus, do not bother me unless it’s an emergency.”

Kirishima heard Mina whisper slyly to Hagakure: “I think Aizawa and Mic are planning a date.” They dissolved into giggles. Kirishima hadn’t thought of that possibility, but he supposed the two men sometimes did seem oddly close. Kinda like him and Bakugou. It was an interesting thought, one that made him feel slightly less alone. Maybe he shouldn’t feel so ashamed of himself.

“Please, you think they’re gay?” Sero hissed back to Mina. “Aizawa definitely likes pussy.”

“Ew, Sero!” Hagakure cried.

Ah, well, maybe it was a stupid thought.

Aizawa walked away to round up any stragglers, and Kaminari and Sero gave each other covert glances, then descended upon Mic like wolves. The boys spoke to him in low voices, with lots of hand gestures and convincing smiles. Mic frowned, then laughed, then shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Kirishima wondered what they could possibly be up to. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t good. They were always up to something, and most of the time Kirishima was involved, but this time he would stay out of it. He had more important things to focus on.

Once everyone was accounted for – Aizawa said he would leave people behind, but Kirishima knew he was lying; he was too big of a softie to let anyone feel left out – they got on the bus. Bakugou was acting grumpier than usual, and when he spread himself out on his seat so that he took up all possible room, Kirishima almost considered giving him his space. 

Then he shook the idea out of his head. He needed to be confident. His goal of today was to make Bakugou notice him in a different light. He wouldn’t be able to accomplish that if he just shied away from him all day. A whole day spent together in a cute beach town was like a date, right? If Bakugou reacted well to this, then Kirishima would know that there was at least a possibility. There had to be.

“Hey, move.” He said bravely, pushing Bakugou’s legs to the side. The blonde growled in response. It was supposed to be intimidating, but Kirishima liked the noise. 

“Don’t I have to see enough of you? We’re sharing a fuckin’ bedroom.” He snapped. Kirishima smiled, refusing to be discouraged.

“Yeah, am I not your favorite person?” He teased. Bakugou just muttered something in response and stared out the window, looking displeased. Kirishima wasn’t upset by it – he was just being Bakugou.

The ride to the town wasn’t a long one – twenty minutes tops, but Kirishima wasn’t really watching the time go by. He was busying himself with sneaking glances at Bakugou as he stared out the window, studying his features. When he wasn’t tense with anger or irritation, he had a really nice face. Piercing red eyes that looked best when he was curious about something, or when he was smiling – a sight that had gotten less rare as the years had gone by. His smile – it was radiant, gleaming, blinding. Kirishima lived for it. He spent his days trying to make him laugh so he could get a glimpse of his smile. It was addictive.

Kirishima was so fucked. When did he turn into such a lovesick puppy? It was so not manly.

“Oi, Shitty Hair. You’re fuckin’ staring at me again.” Bakugou’s voice was low and Kirishima’s heart leapt out of his chest.

“Sorry! I wasn’t – I just – I spaced out.” Being caught staring is the most embarrassing situation he could’ve gotten himself into – now Bakugou was going to think he was a weirdo.

“Yeah, yeah. Take a fuckin’ picture if you want.” He rolled his eyes then faced forward. Kirishima wanted to bury his face in his hands and hide the rest of the trip – he wasn’t confident. He wasn’t confident at all. He was terrified. He couldn’t do this. Bakugou was just going to think he was a freak, and never talk to him again if he found out about his crush, and –

“Kirishima.” Bakugou said his name sternly. “I can see you fuckin’ thinking again. Chill out.”

“I am chill!” Kirishima insisted, even though he was absolutely not chill in any capacity. Now in addition to being a weirdo who stares, Bakugou thought he was having some kind of internal crisis about it.

Which he totally was, but that was beside the point.

“Tch.” Was all Bakugou said.

There must’ve been a god looking down on Kirishima, because at that moment, they arrived. He wanted to sprint out of the bus and never look back – he’d ask Shoji to hide him – but that would be cowardly, and Kirishima had promised himself upon getting into UA that he would never be a coward again. He turned to say something to Bakugou – something to convince him that he was indeed chill, but Bakugou didn’t give him a chance.

“C’mon. Let’s see this fuckin’ shitty town you were so excited about.”

The town, contrary to Bakugou’s belief, was not shitty. It was charming, filled with brightly colored shops, small cafes with quaint porches, and lots of people walking around in sundresses and swimwear. Aizawa reminded them again of the meeting time, pointed out the restaurant that they would be eating at – a kitschy looking building with pink walls and blue shutters – and then walked towards what appeared to be a cat café with Mic. A group of young kids ran past them, pointing to what appeared to be a candy shop and jumping up and down excitedly before entering the door.

“No –” Bakugou began, but it was too late.

“A candy store, dude! Candy!” Kirishima was even more thrilled than the children were about the prospect. “I’ve haven’t been to one of those in forever!”

Bakugou snorted. “You’re such a baby.” He muttered, but it wasn’t unkind.

“Inner child, man.” Kirishima grinned. “Let’s check it out!”

“I’m down.” Mina linked her arm with Kirishima and forced his face not to frown. He wasn’t unhappy with Mina’s presence, he was just, like, trying to turn this into a date without Bakugou realizing it.

“Me too!” Cried Uraraka. “I love candy! Do you think they have free samples?”

Bakugou grunted. “You know I’ll fucking buy you something, Round Face.”

Kirishima’s heart sank. His theory about Bakugou held more weight than he would like it to. Where was Kaminari when he needed him?

“Don’t need ya to.” Uraraka stuck her tongue out. “Tsu, let’s go!” She grabbed the frog-girl and they sprinted towards the store. Kirishima hung back, trying to find his confidence again, but feeling himself grow less sure of himself. It was a stupid idea, to try and impress Bakugou, to try and make him see him as anything more than a friend. That was all he was and all he’d ever be.

“Ei? You coming?” Mina prompted him. “I’ll buy you a lolipop, I know they’re your favorite.” She winked.

“Yeah, uh, in a minute, Mina.” He said stiffly. The pink girl looked a little affronted, but she nodded, and skipped off after Kaminari and Sero.

“Thought you wanted to go to the candy store so bad, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou said. All their other classmates had walked ahead, but he stood by Kirishima’s side.

“Thought you didn’t want to.” Kirishima managed.

Bakugou shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll fuckin’ go.” He started walking then, and Kirishima had no choice but to follow. He pushed his emotions to the side – he would stop trying to act like this was a date. He would just enjoy the day with his friend. That was all he could ask for.

Chapter Text

Bakugou didn’t have any desire to go into a stupid candy store, not really. Candy was a junk food, and Bakugou didn’t do junk food. For a bunch of aspiring heroes, his classmates sure took shit care of their bodies – even Kirishima, who worked out almost as often as Bakugou, shoveled endless amounts of crap down his throat whenever they went out to eat or were treated as a class. He was like a bottomless pit. Bakugou always found it disgusting, but he was accustomed to the way Kirishima behaved now, and so when his face lit up when he saw the candy shop, Bakugou immediately resigned himself to go in with him.  

Kirishima gave him a confused puppy look when Bakugou started walking away, but he didn’t turn back to check if the redhead was following – with the way his brain and hormones had been behaving, looking at Kirishima was dangerous. He was too damn bright. 

Bakugou threw open the door of the shop, not bothering to hold it open for Kirishima who was assuredly behind him. He zeroed in on Uraraka – needing to use her as a front to maintain his normalcy and sanity, but she was occupied. Kaminari – that goddamn blonde idiot – was holding up a lollipop and Uraraka was licking it. Bakugou didn’t know what she was up to, and he found himself for once in his life wishing that Deku was around to capture her attention. Her flirting with Kaminari was just embarrassing him, but the nerd was mysteriously missing. He and the half-and-half were the only two not crammed inside the too-small shop. 

“Ooh, Baku, you wanna lick too?” Kaminari raised his eyebrows seductively. 

“You wanna die, Pikachu?” Bakugou spat, seeing red and clenching his fists.

“Ooookay!” Uraraka jumped away from Kaminari to Bakugou and wrapped her arms around his middle. He grunted. Kirishima opened the door behind him at that moment, and shyly met Bakugou’s eyes. He frowned.

“Hi, Eijirou!” 

“Hi, Uraraka!” Kirishima put on his signature grin, but Bakugou could tell something was wrong with it. It didn’t reach his eyes and crinkle the skin there; it didn’t turn his face into the usual blinding light that it was when he was happy. 

“I haven’t seen you two much this trip, been busy?” Uraraka asked innocently, giving Bakugou a shit-eating grin. Kirishima seemed flustered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bakugou cut him off.

“It’s been one day, Round Face, and as I fuckin’ remember you were up in my business yesterday.” He snapped at her.

“Someone needs to be.” She shrugged. “Pardon me, gentlemen, but I have a lot of candy to attend to.” She gave an exaggerated bow to both of them and then skipped off to Kaminari, who smiled like a damn wolf upon her arrival.

“She’s so fuckin’ stupid.” Bakugou growled, to Kirishima but also to no one in particular. “She’s had a crush on that shitty nerd for years now and all the sudden she’s up on Pikachu? I don’t get it.”

Kirishima shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, man. Maybe you should talk to her about it?”

“Yeah, as if Round Face would ever listen to anyone.” He shook his head. “Why are you just standing around? I thought you wanted to come in this damn store.”

“I, uh –” Kirishima stuttered. Bakugou sighed.

Usually Kirishima was the easiest person in the world for Bakugou to read. The idiot wore his emotions plain as day on his face, but since this morning he had been on-and-off so much it was giving Bakugou a damn headache. One minute he was up in his face, as cheerful and imposing as always, the next he was pouting – the opposite of a kid in a candy store.

He thought that it could’ve been his fault that he was acting so un-Kirishima-like. He had probably made him uncomfortable with his excess touching while they practiced his swimming. Fucking stupid of him. He shouldn’t have been so self-indulgent of his own fucked up feelings, especially if it was going to make Kirishima act odd. He was done with that. He was done with the whole thing. He would never let Kirishima find out about whatever this shit was that he was dealing with. He took a deep breath. 

“Listen, Shitty Hair. I don’t know why you’re being so goddamn weird, but you dragged me along on this trip so you better start enjoying yourself.” It came out just as harsh as he had intended it to. It would leave no doubt that things were just as normal as they had always been between them. Kirishima’s eyebrows drew together in that way that they always did before he was going to put all of his effort into something. Bakugou watched him curiously. 

“Am I being weird?” He finally asked, biting his damn lip again. Bakugou wished he’d stop doing that – he had shark teeth for God’s sake, he was tearing his mouth up with the constant nervous ticks, and it was also extremely hard for Bakugou not to focus on his lips when he did shit like that.

“Fucking yeah.” Bakugou spat out. “C’mon, let’s go find you some damn candy.” He wrapped his hand around Kirishima’s wrist as if on instinct and pulled him towards a colorful shelf full of actual bags of sugar before he could think twice about it. It took all his willpower not to throw up and he released Kirishima, leaving the redhead rubbing his wrist as if in a daze.

“Yeah, candy.” He nodded, suddenly determined. “I gotta get enough to last us the rest of the vacation! That’s a lot of pressure.” He stared at the shelf, suddenly in a strategic mode not unlike the way he behaved in battle. Bakugou held back a smirk. “Shit, dude, what do you like?”

“I don’t.” Bakugou said gruffly, dropping any pretense of the smile in exchange for a scowl.

Kirishima was fully back to being Kirishima. He shook Bakugou’s shoulders, a move that would’ve signaled death for anyone else. He caught Momo giving him a concerned look before turning back to whatever Iida was saying. “What do you mean you don’t?!” Kirishima cried. “Everyone has some candy they like. Are you human? You know, sometimes I do wonder…” He put a finger to his chin as if in mock thought. Bakugou rolled his eyes but kept his hands to himself this time.

“I like spicy shit.” He admitted. “But I don’t want any sh –”

It was too late. Kirishima had already taken Bakugou’s words and run with them. He was pushing his way through the crowd of UA students who had taken over the shop and stopped in front of a shelf stocked with gummies. Bakugou appraised him while he searched, his eyes scanning over the options.

“Oh man.” Uraraka popped back into his vision, blocking his view of Kirishima. “You’ve got heart eyes.”

“What the fuck, Round Face?” Bakugou stammered, glaring at her. “What stupid shit are you talking about?”

“God, you’re so dense, even you don’t know your own life.” She rolled her eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for your little boyfriend?” He looked back to Kirishima, who was now talking animatedly to Shoji, asking for his opinion on something.

“He’s right over – wait, who are you talking about?” Uraraka’s eyes widened. Bakugou gaped at her.

“Who are you talking about? I was talking about shitty Deku.”

“Oh, oh.” Uraraka frowned then. “Boy, you really are dense, Katsuki. We need to catch up soon.”

“What does that mean, you –”

“Oh, gotta go!” She scurried off again and Bakugou felt the heat rise to his cheeks. She could be so goddamn annoying and cryptic.

“Look!” Kirishima announced, taking Uraraka’s spot. Between the two of them, Bakugou was developing a headache, but Kirishima looked so damn proud of himself that he couldn’t even grumble a complaint. The boy was holding up a small bag of multicolored gummies. He handed the bag to Bakugou, who took it and gave it a suspicious once-over. “Try them.” Kirishima insisted.

Bakugou would try one, but he wouldn’t act happy about it. He selected a red one, because red was a good color and raised an eyebrow as the candy set his mouth on fire. It burned in the same way that most foods he consumed did, and he was impressed with Kirishima for nailing down something he would like so easily.

“Good?” The redhead was grinning. “I’m gonna try one.”

“I wouldn’t, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou warned, but one thing about Kirishima is that he liked to find things out the hard way, and he took a handful and popped them into his mouth at once. The effect was instantaneous – Kirishima’s eyes popped open, his cheeks turned an alarming shade of red, deeper than that of his hair, and Bakugou swore he saw actual smoke come out of his nose.

“Ah!” He squeaked. “H-hot!”

“Eijirou?” Mina ran to his side, touching his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Hot!” Kirishima gasped.

Bakugou smirked. “Fuckin’ told you.” He said smugly.

“Help!”

Kaminari came over, cackling. “You need some water, bro?”

Kirishima started fanning his cheeks, panicking. “Hurts!” He cried.

“Oi, you idiot.” Bakugou snapped, then he stalked off towards the front of the store, throwing open a small drink fridge and snatching a water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and held it directly up to Kirishima’s lips, because he was too busy trying to cool himself to use his own hands. “Drink.” He demanded.

Kirishima obeyed clumsily, and Bakugou kept his hold on the bottle, tilting it back so the boy could drink easily. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and Bakugou tried to focus anywhere but on that. Most of his classmates who had gathered around them, watching with concern as the golden boy of 2A almost spit fire. He wondered if they felt the intimacy of his actions. Could they see in his expression how fucking hard he was trying to keep his cool?

Kaminari caught Bakugou’s eye, and he smiled slightly. Bakugou scowled back at him, unsure of what the moron was looking at.

Kirishima finished drinking with a gasp, and Bakugou pulled the bottle away from him. His eyes were watery, his cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing like he had just run a damn marathon. It wasn’t a bad look for him, Bakugou thought passively, then frowned, hating the way his brain betrayed him.

“Jeeze, Ei. What did you eat?” Mina still had her hand lightly pressed to Kirishima’s arm, and Bakugou tried not to fixate on it, but goddamn, didn’t she have someone else to harass? Maybe he could put the idea of fucking Kaminari in her head again – she had done that already their first year, but if she wanted round two, it would be doing both him and Uraraka a damn favor.

Idiot, the voice inside of his head told him. Kirishima probably likes her. You’re the one acting like fucking fool. So much for being normal.

“I –” Kirishima was still panting. “Dude.” He fixed his eyes on Bakugou. “You just ate that like it was nothing – that nearly killed me.”

“Weak taste buds.” Bakugou shrugged.

"I asked Shoji for the spiciest candy but that…that was a weapon.” He was dazed. Bakugou looked to Shoji, whose eyes were guilty. Bakugou gave him a smirk and a nod of respect.

“Bakugou creates explosions out of his hands, you think he’d be phased by some spicy candy? Please.” Mina teased Bakugou. He let her get away with it simply because it wasn’t worth it to cause a scene after Kirishima had almost needed medical attention in the middle of the tiny store. The owner of the shop was already gazing at them with concern.

“Let’s get out of here, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou said, feeling suddenly claustrophobic, surrounded by all of his classmates in such a small space. “I’m bored.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, dude. One sec. Wait for me outside.”

Bakugou didn’t need to be told twice. He stalked out of the store quickly, and just before he closed the door behind him, he heard Mina whine: “Eijirou, won’t you meet me somewhere later?”

He didn’t hear Kirishima’s response. Didn’t want to. The door slammed behind him.

He was only outside for a moment before Kirishima ambled out of the store, alone. He was holding a small bag and the half-empty water bottle. “Here, bro.” He held out the bag to Bakugou, it was full of the spicy candies.

Bakugou’s stomach felt unsettled at the gesture – like it was churning, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. He remembered having the feeling once before, when Kirishima admitted to buying infrared goggles to help find Bakugou when he had been taken by the League of Idiots. He had spent his own money for Bakugou, to help him. The whole rescue had left him feeling confused and irritated, but he had been able to push it aside. He wished he could do the same now.

“Don’t spend your fuckin’ money on me, moron.” Bakugou snapped.

“You’re welcome.” Kirishima smiled. “Just keep them away from me.” His face twisted into a grimace. “Hey, let’s go to a beach shop.”

“Whatever.”

Bakugou spent the rest of the afternoon being dragged around by Kirishima and whoever else decided to tag along – generally it was his usual shadows, Sero, Kaminari and Mina, but Uraraka joined them too, staying suspiciously close to Kaminari, and distracting Bakugou from his internal turmoil. Uraraka may have been acting like an idiot, but at least it gave him something else to focus on.

They all traipsed from shop to shop, ogling ridiculous souvenirs, trying on tacky T-shirts, and stuffing their arms full of whatever they could afford. Bakugou stood idly by, arms crossed, wondering how many times he could roll his eyes in one day, but he also laughed when Kirishima stepped out of a tourist shop dressing room, wearing a string bikini top, a snorkel and a hula skirt. He cracked a reluctant smile when they entered a shop that had a dog casually wandering the aisles, and Kirishima absolutely lost his shit when the owner told him he could pet him. He didn’t hate it when the redhead grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into a hut that was spilling out an intoxicating aroma and he didn’t say no when he asked Bakugou if he wanted to split a bowl of ramen.

They had lost their posse by the time the afternoon had grown wary. Kirishima had led them to the edge of the town, to a small park and because he was a child, he insisted that they swing on the swing set. Bakugou couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. Maybe he didn’t have the energy for it. Maybe Kirishima just couldn’t do any wrong in his eyes anymore.

Kirishima pumped his legs rapidly to gain height and leaned his head back as he swung. Bakugou sat, kicking his feet languidly, watching the other boy from the corner of his eye.

“Do you not know how to swing, dude?!” Kirishima taunted from high in the sky. “I’m leaving you in the dust here!”   

Bakugou scoffed. “I’m not trying.”

"Why? Too scared?” His voice was teasing as it came in and out of Bakugou’s ears. He was swinging so high that he was probably going to flip the swing, and Bakugou would just laugh when he did. He knew what Kirishima was trying to do. It was what everyone always did when they tried to get Bakugou to participate in something. He wasn’t an idiot, but if there was one thing Bakugou never did, it was back down from a challenge. He didn’t half-ass anything, and everyone who knew him was well aware of that fact.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid.” Bakugou responded, but he pumped his legs anyway. He gained on Kirishima quickly, and they swung in tandem, talking shit to each other the whole time.

"Bet you won’t jump!” Kirishima goaded.

“Fuck you!” Bakugou snapped back, and without waiting for an answer, he leapt from the metal seat and tuck-and-rolled onto the ground. He was dusting himself off and preparing to get up when the wind was forced from his lungs and something solid crashed into him.

“Sorry!” Kirishima was on top of him, crushing him, suffocating him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to land on you.” He was laughing.

"Get the fuck off, idiot.” Bakugou snarled from under him. His heart thrummed rapidly in his chest from Kirishima’s contact. He was practically laying on him.

“Right.” Kirishima lifted himself into a push up position and rolled off of Bakugou. “I promise I wasn’t trying to dive bomb you.” He snickered.

“Whatever, you idiot. I think you’re trying to fuckin’ take me out so you have a better chance of being top of the class.”

Kirishima chuckled and wrapped his arms around his knees. Both of them sat in the grass now, facing each other. “You got me there. I’m not far behind you, you know! Better watch out.”

“I’ll destroy you.” Bakugou promised, his voice dangerous.

"Don’t doubt it.” Kirishima said good-naturedly. “Before you destroy me though, can you finish teaching me how to swim?”

“Tch. Yeah.” Bakugou said simply. “If you’re gonna die, it’ll be because I ended you, not because the ocean ended you.”

“Good.” Kirishima grinned. He checked his phone and whined.

“What’s the matter with you?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

“It’s just…it’s five. We have to be at dinner by six, and I told Mina that I would meet her around this time. She wanted to check out some café or something. Wanna come?” His tone was slightly hopeful.

“Why would I want to third wheel your fuckin’ date?” Bakugou ignored the burning in his chest and focused on keeping his voice devoid of all emotion.

“It’s not a date, dude, c’mon!” Kirishima groaned. “Mina’s, like, a really good friend.”

"Alien freak is basically begging to fuck you.”

"Hey, Bakugou!” Kirishima’s face matched his eyes. “That’s stupid. It’s not like that.”

“You’re even dumber than you look, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou laughed without humor. “You should go. Don’t wanna be late for your date.”

“Yeah…” Kirishima frowned. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Whatever.”

Kirishima didn’t respond, and Bakugou refused to look at him any longer, but he heard the telltale shuffling of the boy standing up, and then he walked away without another word. Bakugou ripped up a patch of grass, scattering the blades at his feet and digging his hands into the dirt. He stared at his dirty fingers, banishing thoughts of bright red hair and sharp white smiles out of his head.

Chapter Text

Kirishima was waging a war inside his head more intense than any actual battle he had ever been in. It rivaled even his debut of Unbreakable. His legs shook as he walked away. He forced one foot in front of the other, dragging himself away from the small park, away from Bakugou, even when his entire body was screaming at him to turn back, to bail on Mina, to stay.

He couldn’t be imagining the difference in his friend. There was no way – he wasn’t that delusional. When Kirishima had mentioned Mina and their meeting, Bakugou’s cheeks had slightly flushed, his eyebrows had furrowed together, and his gaze had dropped from Kirishima to the ground. His entire demeanor radiated displeasure, annoyance, and something else – jealousy? Hurt? He had practically shouted Kirishima away, when just moments before he seemed like he would be content to spend the entire night sitting there together in the grass. 

His brain offered a million alternatives – you just annoy him, you always have. You made him mad when you fell on him. His social meter had reached his limit and he just wants to go home. Yet, screaming louder than any of the negative voices that plagued him was a singing voice of hope. Jealousy was a positive thing. Jealousy meant something. 

It took all the self-control Kirishima possessed not to turn around, sprint back towards Bakugou, and tackle him back down to the ground and tell him that he had no reason to be jealous because there was no way in the world he could ever love anyone but him.

Kirishima almost paused in his steps – almost. Had he just thought love? That was a big and threatening feeling for his brain to throw at him. He considered the fact that Bakugou was his best friend, so, yeah, of course he loved him. He loved Kaminari too. He loved Sero. He loved Mina. But when ‘love’ popped up like this, in a frenzy of confusing feelings and unsaid declarations and desperate, desperate longing, it had a different connotation than the love he held for his friends.

Did he love Bakugou? How could he? Love required intimacy, didn’t it? But there was intimacy there. There was intimacy in the way they would spend late nights together, comfortably existing in each other’s presence, whether it be through working on difficult homework problems together, playing a video game, or even just sitting around, not even necessarily talking, just being. He couldn’t deny that there was an intimacy in the way that Bakugou seemed to let down his walls around Kirishima, how he didn’t put up a front, how he would admit things that Kirishima knew had never been said aloud before. He would immediately act like it was no big deal, and maintain his harsh, uncaring attitude, but Kirishima knew that these were things meant only for him to hear. There was intimacy in their familiarity – they knew each other’s favorite foods, favorite gym machines, favorite TV shows, books, heroes. Kirishima could write Bakugou’s biography, pieced together from late night whispers or shouted facts or casual conversations. Kirishima knew that Bakugou was a constant, that he would always want to spar in the mornings, or that he would always be present at their lunch table, in his seat next to Kirishima, or how when any exercise required partners, he wouldn’t even have to ask, it was just assumed that they would work together. 

There was intimacy, Kirishima realized, and maybe he did love Bakugou. Then why was he walking away?

He knew why. He knew it was because Bakugou loving him back was a dream that Kirishima was terrified to indulge because even if he thought the signs were there, he could ever be sure, and that small iota of doubt was enough to keep him teetering on the edge of the drop, refusing to take the plunge into the unknown world where Bakugou loved him back.

He let his thoughts carry him as he wandered back into the town, towards the café Mina had requested he meet her at. Like the rest of the town, it was shoddy in a charming way, with tacky décor adorning the patio and a wooden sign proclaiming a warm welcome. A cat sat in one of the windowsills, regarding Kirishima curiously with sharp yellow eyes. He spotted Mina through the same window, sitting at a table in the corner, kicking her legs and gazing intently at her phone. He could feel her energy from where he stood – nervous, fluttery, so very unlike Mina. She was the most confident out of anyone in their group, even Kaminari, and that required being unshakable, but Kirishima had noticed her falter more than a few times recently with his lack of interest. Mina was the type of girl who was used to getting what she wanted, and Kirishima was sure he was being a roadblock to that. 

He took a deep breath before he entered the building, promising himself that he would let her down easy; that he would free her from her pursuit so she could find someone that could care for her the way she deserved. He would no longer use her as a safety net preventing him from falling into the pit of despair that he was positive would swallow him up if he attempted to accept who he was. Self-acceptance was a journey he had put off embarking on for too long, and letting Mina down was the first step to it.

“Eijirou.” Mina beamed at him and kicked her legs impossibly faster. Seeing Mina alone anywhere was always a strange sight; the girl commanded attention. She drew people in with her odd beauty and her encapsulating spirit and then they were stuck in her web forever. She had always been like that. Kirishima couldn’t count the number of admirers she had had in middle school. He should feel honored to have so much of her attention, and he did feel truly blessed to be her friend. She was fiercely supportive of everything he did – always cheering him on during his battles, encouraging him no matter how ridiculous his ideas could get (and they got pretty ridiculous, admittedly) and standing by his side. 

“Hi, Mina.” Kirishima raised his hand shyly. He slid into the seat across from her and gave her a small smile. “What’s up?”

            “Nothing, waiting for you.” She blushed, her cheeks turning a dark purple. It was weird to be the object of Mina’s affections when he had been an outsider watching her charm men from afar. He had seen her work Sero with a flip of her hair; had seen her wrap Kaminari around her finger with a smile. Though he was immune to her flirtations, he wasn’t immune to her personality. Mina made his heart ache with her genuine kindness and her passion for life. “I ordered us tea, by the way. I got your favorite, green tea, ‘so simple and manly’.” She did air-quotes. Kirishima cracked a smile.

“Cool, thanks Mina.” He paused, leaning back in his chair slightly. He wished things didn’t have to be complicated with Mina. She was such a cool friend to have and he was terrified of ruining that. He didn’t know what he would do without her. “What’s on your mind?” He asked casually.

“I just thought it would be nice for us to hang out, just the two of us. We never get to anymore.”

“We talk all the time!” Kirishima protested, because they did. Their group of friends was so tight-knit that you hardly ever saw one of them alone. If Kirishima so much as wanted to get a glass of water at night, it was almost guaranteed that at least one of his friends would volunteer to go with him. They had weekly sleepovers where they stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, competing in video game tournaments, playing ridiculous party games, cramming for tests, or watching movies. Even Bakugou participated, although begrudgingly, and he always fell asleep early. Mina was something of a ringleader of the group. She brought them together, deciding that because they all worked together in the cavalry battle in the Sports Festival, that they were destined to be best friends. Kirishima had roped in Kaminari too, because he was his close friend, and the rest of the squad took to him easily, except for Bakugou, but Kirishima knew that most of the ill-will wasn’t to be taken seriously. After that, they were a solid clique, and Mina was always planning things for them to do together. It spoke to the strength of their friend group that Mina had hooked up with half of them and they were completely unbothered by it.

“Yeah, but not just us. Denki is always there, or Hanta, or Bakugou. You’re always with Bakugou. He’s like your shadow.” She laughed, but it was quick, fake trill. Mina called all of her friends by their first names except for Bakugou. Despite everyone’s closeness, Bakugou was still an intimidating force in the group. Kirishima’s heart rate increased as what he had decided to do really settled in on him. 

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, equally as phony. “I mean, he’s just my best friend, ya know?” 

“Aw, I thought I was your best friend.” Mina whined. Two cups of tea were dropped off then, and Mina and Kirishima bowed gratefully to their waiter. Mina took a sip, then turned back to Kirishima, waiting for his justification in calling someone else his best friend. 

“Does friendship have to be a competition? You’re all my best friends. Couldn’t live without any of you.” He said earnestly. “Hagakure is your best friend.”

“Toru is my soul sister.” Mina corrected. “You’re my best friend. We’re best friend soulmates, Ei.”

Kirishima laughed for real then. “You didn’t even know who I was in middle school!”

Mina looked affronted. “I knew who you were, Ei. Of course I did. I was just…I was a middle school girl, you know? Shallow, stupid.” She waved his accusation away. “I can’t believe you’re putting King Explosion Murder over Alien Queen. I don’t even know how you spend extended amounts of time alone with him. I feel like he’s exhausting when he’s alone. I need the rest of the squad to balance out his energy.”

Kirishima smirked at the use of their prototype hero names. Bakugou’s described his personality well.

“Bakugou is cool. He’s, I don’t know, he’s a good guy. People just don’t get him.” He said. He got Bakugou. He understood him better than anyone else could say they did.

“I still think I deserve best friend privileges.”

“You are my best friend, Mina!” Kirishima cried, exasperated. “You two are…different types of friends.” He said, then immediately regretted it, because Mina’s eyes widened, and her flush deepened, and he saw the implication of what he said written all over her face. The false hope that he had just bestowed upon her was radiating out of her pores. 

“Different kinds of friends, huh?” She grinned like a little kid being trusted with an important secret. “Maybe we’re like, special friends?” Her black eyes were flecked with gold and mischief. 

Kirishima opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of how to approach this subject. He blushed in spite of himself, which only seemed to encourage Mina more. He picked up his tea with trembling hands but couldn’t bring himself to drink any of it. Mina’s expression was so heartbreakingly expectant that Kirishima’s pep talk that he had given himself earlier flew out the window. He suddenly couldn’t make words form. He couldn’t disappoint Mina.

“Eijirou.” She crooned. “You are so cute. I was starting to think that maybe you were such a hopeless crush, but you’re just so shy. So sweet. You’ve always been so sweet, Ei.” 

“Ah. Mina, it’s not –” He couldn’t make eye contact with her. All his courage from earlier seeped out of him, leaving him breathless and weak and afraid. He couldn’t tell Mina the truth now, because she would be devastated and humiliated and she’d beat herself up over it. If Kirishima told her he didn’t like her, she would need a reason. Mina wasn’t stupid. She knew who she was, and that meant she knew how desirable she was to almost every single male in their class. He had even caught quiet and innocent Ojiro eying her up and down a few times. So if Kirishima was rejecting her, he had to have a damn good reason. 

He did have a really damn good reason, but the thought of admitting it out loud, especially to Mina who had just confessed her feelings for him, made his vision blurry and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Mina, although a good friend, was a gossip. There was no guarantee that something wouldn’t slip out if he told her, and the thought of the whole school knowing was enough to send him into a frenzy.

Just moments ago he had been thinking that maybe Bakugou returned his feelings, now he was imagining the disgust on his best friend’s face as he found out the truth about Kirishima. He would be horrified that he and Kirishima had shared a bedroom, had seen him in the locker rooms multiple times after sparring matches and before showers, had been so close to him during innocent things like swimming lessons…

His mind reeled.

“Eijirou?” Mina was gazing at him expectantly, her eyes glimmering, and her lips pressed into a sweet pout. 

“I –” He stammered, defeated. He was spineless. He couldn’t take the risk. It could ruin everything he had worked so hard for. It had taken so long for him to gain Bakugou’s trust, and if he ruined it, if he scared him away – he couldn’t handle a life without Bakugou. He needed him there, in some capacity, even if it wasn’t the way he truly wanted. He took a deep breath, not believing what he was about to do, but knowing he had to do it anyway.  “I like you a lot, Mina.” He sighed out, hating himself more than he had ever hated himself – and he had plenty of experience with self-loathing. He bit his lip and cast his eyes down into his cup, focusing on his untouched tea.  

“Ei!” Mina squealed. She reached over the table and took his hand in hers. Hers were perfectly manicured; she wore black nail polish, and they were soft. Too soft. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. Wow. I can’t believe it. I’m so happy. You have no idea how long I’ve liked you.” 

Kirishima’s stomach fell. He felt like he was on a rollercoaster, but not a fun one – more like one that he was strapped into too tight, and he was screaming because he wanted to get off. He had done the exact opposite of what he had – he was such a pathetic coward. 

“Yeah, Mina. Me too.” 

-x-

After forcing himself to get up from the grass, Bakugou hadn’t really known what to do until dinner, so he decided to wander the stupid town and find something that would kill time. He walked aimlessly down the street, pushing past frenzied children and adults meandering at a leisurely vacation pace. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. He kicked a rock in his path and watched it spin to a stop next to a familiar red shoe. Deku was staring into a shop window, the half-and-half Todoroki faithfully by his side. He was like a guard dog, dutifully protecting his owner and snarling if anyone got too close. It was gross, frankly. Their odd friendship had been struck up after the Sports Festival and flourished over the years. There was seldom a time where one was without the other.

It reminded Bakugou a little of him and Kirishima, except fucking nauseating. 

“Hi, Kacchan!” Deku noticed him and waved brightly. Todoroki regarded him with an unimpressed expression, but the half-and-half was stoic by default. 

“Deku.” He said gruffly. He didn’t hate the nerd, not anymore. Sure, sometimes he still got random bouts of rage when he looked at him, and on occasion he was hit with inspiration to lob an explosion at his overly-cheerful face, but he didn’t hate him. Bakugou was the only other person in 2A that knew about One for All, and he had made it his personal mission now more than ever to make sure he surpassed Deku in terms of strength. He would show All Might that he picked the wrong person for his power. 

He also had to make sure the nerd wasn’t acting like an idiot with his new quirk. Even after two years of having it, he still sometimes went out of control and ended up with several broken bones and a small city’s worth of destruction. All Might had asked him to look after Deku, and he’d be dammed if he was going to ignore a request from All Might.

“Where’s Kirishima?” Deku frowned and looked behind Bakugou, as if the redheaded moron was hiding behind him. 

“Hell if I know.” Bakugou growled, even though he did know, because he had been seething about it since Kirishima had walked away. He had to force himself to leave his spot earlier or he would’ve ended up ripping out all of the grass in the park. “Not here.”

“You two are always together.” Deku mused, a small playing on his lips. Bakugou narrowed his eyes. 

“No we fuckin’ aren’t, you shitty nerd.” Bakugou snapped. “He just fuckin’ follows me around.”

Todoroki cracked a sly smile and Bakugou glared at him. He didn’t hate the half-and-half either, but he didn’t fucking like him. They made a pretty decent team when it came to kicking villain ass and he wasn’t the worst person to have to take the provisional license with, but he was still annoying.

“What are you smiling at, bastard?” Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Nothing at all.” Todoroki said smoothly.

“Kacchan, would you like to hang out with us until dinner?” Deku asked, his eyes so full of genuine friendliness that Bakugou thought he needed to go find a toilet to throw up in.

“Fuckin’ pass.” He grumbled. “I’d rather be by myself.”

“You’re a little lost without Kirishima, it seems.” Todoroki noted. “I don’t think I’ve seen one without the other since you started UA.”

“That’s bullshit.” Bakugou mumbled, but he realized Todoroki wasn’t far off. The only times he was without Kirishima was when he was sleeping and showering and even then, sometimes, he was knocked out on his floor or in the next stall over. They had just fallen into a comfortable rhythm and Bakugou was kind of lost without him. All his other loser friends came from Kirishima, and he stuck around them because of Kirishima. He didn’t exactly know what to do with all the quiet that came with the redhead’s absence. He did have one other annoying friend. “You know where Round Face is, Deku?”

“Oh! Uraraka?” Deku’s cheeks turned a rosy shade. “She went off somewhere with Kaminari, I think.”

Bakugou’s face contorted into a snarl. “Damn it, Deku. Aren’t you supposed to keep tabs on her?”

“Keep tabs on…Uraraka?” The nerd looked so confused. “Why would I do that? I mean, she is my good friend, but she’s a hero-in-training as well and very capable of taking care of herself, and Kaminari is a good person as well, so I don’t know why you would get upset about that…” He trailed off, muttering to himself, concentrating hard.

“Stop mumbling, nerd!” Bakugou snapped.

Todoroki was smirking again and Bakugou was losing his patience. “You’re extra insolent today.”

Bakugou tensed, feeling an imminent explosion. “Because you’re all so fuckin’ annoying and I definitely don’t want to spend any time with you. Fuck. Bye.”

“Oh, bye, Kacchan!” Deku half-raised a hand tentatively and Todoroki covered his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter. Bakugou stalked away, more annoyed now than before, his mind still on shitty Kirishima and his stupid date.

He walked towards the opposite end of the town, trying to put distance between himself and anyone else who was going to remind him of what a bad fucking mood he was in. He would just wander around by himself, ignoring everyone. He wished there was a gym in the useless town that he could go to. He wanted to hit something, or throw something, or run until he passed out. If he was unconscious, then maybe he wouldn’t have to imagine every scenario of Kirishima and Mina’s meeting on torturous repeat.

Bakugou kept trudging along, kicking rocks and glaring at civilians before he came upon another one of his classmates, but this one was alone, sitting on a park bench, appearing dejected. Well, so much for avoiding everyone.

 “Hey.” Bakugou sat down on the bench next to the moping girl. “What the fuck is your problem, ears?” 

Jirou looked up at him and blinked away tears. She cracked a small, pathetic smile that didn’t reach her eyes and was completely out of character for her. Jirou was all snark and badassery, not the teary-eyed, trembling type.

“Hey. Nothing.” She said, trying and failing to hide her sniffling.

“Bullshit, nothing.” Bakugou grumbled. “You’re out here sitting on a bench crying and alone while all your stupid friends are running around having fun.” 

“Don’t make me sound so pathetic.” She whined.

“I’m alone too, aren’t I?” Bakugou offered back, refusing to make eye contact. It didn’t stop Jirou from trying, though, and he could feel her eyes burning into him. 

“Yeah,” She said after a moment of quiet. “I guess you are. Not used to that sight. You’ve usually always got Kirishima with you.”

Bakugou stopped himself from groaning. Why wouldn’t anyone let him forget about that redheaded parasite? “He’s got his own shit to do.” He answered gruffly, and Jirou seemed to pick up on the tone of his voice, because she didn’t comment further. They sat there, silent except for the occasional punctuation of Jirou’s sniffles. 

“You need to talk about it or something?” Bakugou asked, because he knew how it felt to have shit bottled up inside of you for so long that it all threatened to explode out. He was no stranger to not knowing how to handle emotions. 

“No, I don’t.” Jirou said softly. “Do you?”

“Hah? What would I have to talk about?” He snapped and Jirou just shrugged. She had always been good at reading people. It was something Bakugou noticed about her their first year. His first year, he may have acted like he couldn’t care less about his classmates, refusing to remember their names, or acknowledge their strengths, or bother with socializing with them, but he always paid attention. Jirou would relentlessly tease Kaminari, but she knew what his limit was and always took care of him when he went stupider than usual. She was one of the few people who could talk Hagakure down from one of her self-esteem meltdowns, because she seemed to be able to sense them from the body language of her clothes. When Uraraka had cried in class one day, for reasons unknown to Bakugou because she wouldn’t talk about it, it was Jirou who shielded her from the rest of the class, fielding questions and soothing Uraraka until her tears dried. Jirou was perceptive.

“You just seem like you’ve got something on your mind.” She said simply. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

“I don’t have shit on my mind.” He lied. He had plenty of shit on his mind, most of it having to do with a certain redhead and a certain pink-haired alien freak and their meeting that Kirishima swore wasn’t a date. Bakugou wasn’t an idiot, even if Kirishima was. Bakugou knew Mina’s game. When he had told Kirishima that, he had acted shocked and scandalized, like it was a groundbreaking idea that Mina was fucking her way through the entirety of UA. He wondered if Kirishima was just playing coy, and he knew what Mina wanted. He didn’t seem like the type, though. He was more of a heart-on-his-sleeve, oblivious type. Maybe he wanted Mina too and was just playing hard-to-get. It made sense, in a way. A twisted, terrible way that made Bakugou’s stomach wrench. 

He felt Jirou’s eyes on him again, and he was ready for a lecture, or an interrogation, but she just said, “Okay.” 

Jirou spoke again. “You wanna go do something?” 

Bakugou thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” 

-x-

Bakugou and Jirou ended up in a hole-in-the-wall music shop. It was on the other end of the town, where Bakugou had been steadily wandering. Jirou had gathered herself back together, wiping the smudged black liner from under her eyes and blowing her nose so she would stop sniveling all over the place. As they walked to the store, they talked idly, about school, about battles, about internships, about music. Jirou and Bakugou had music in common more than anything else – they had performed together in UA’s Cultural Festival last year, and Bakugou could begrudgingly admit to himself that it had been sort of fun. He played the drums while Jirou sang. He hadn’t realized the girl with a power super focusing on her ears had such a set of pipes. Through all the practices, they had learned to tolerate each other. Jirou fired back whenever his attitude got too brash, and Bakugou laughed at her sense of humor, which usually had to do with making fun of Kaminari – his favorite. One late night, when they were all ready to pass out due to exhaustion from all the playing, they had ended up discussing their music tastes, and it turned out they were very similar. Ever since then, Bakugou worked well with Jirou, from combat to casual conversation.

“I’ve been wanting to come here all day.” Jirou admitted, her eyes lighting up as she picked up an old, dusty record. “It’s so vintage.” 

“Why didn’t you then?” Bakugou asked passively. He was browsing the cluttered collection of CDs, flipping them over in his hands and reading the song lists without really focusing. It was busy work to keep his mind occupied. 

“Oh, Yaomomo and Iida weren’t really interested.” She said off-handedly. “They were more interested in the book store and the cafes…”

“Why would you willingly choose to hang out with those two?” Bakugou crinkled his nose. “What did they want to do in the damn book stores? Study?”

Jirou bit her lip and Bakugou had to look away, because like everything else in his damn life, it reminded him of Kirishima. “Hey, Yaomomo is my best friend. She’s awesome. She’s just been…distracted lately.” 

Bakugou knew well. Ponytail had started up some kind of strange courtship with the class rep-two-years-running. They weren’t dating like regular teenagers – they never kissed, or even held hands, that Bakugou saw, but they were always together, and Iida was always flustered and louder than usual around her. Jirou usually tagged along, but she didn’t seem happy about the arrangement.

“Yeah, Four Eyes is gonna turn her into even more of a damn square.” Bakugou laughed sharply. 

“Don’t say that.” Jirou bemoaned. “I’ve spent so much time bringing out her punk rock side.”

Bakugou didn’t think anything even remotely close to a punk rock side existed inside Momo Yaoyorozu – she was too much of a princess, but the way Jirou’s eyes were shining with admiration told Bakugou that he should just let her be. He continued shifting through discs, having moved towards a niche market of folk music and indie. He frowned. 

“Iida is great.” Jirou continued, having abandoned her looking. “I just worry about Yaomomo. I feel like she thinks she has this expectation, ya know? Because of her family. I feel like she might try to be someone she’s not.”

I fucking know how that feels, Bakugou thought, but he said: “Or maybe she’s prissy, and Four Eyes is perfect for her.”

“You don’t know her.” Jirou insisted, but she sounded more like she was speaking to herself. “She’s not like everyone thinks she is.” 

The passion in her words was almost jarring. She was convincing herself just as much as she was convincing Bakugou. 

“Guess I just don’t know her.” He said, mostly to placate Jirou. He knew enough about Momo to know that Iida was the one she would end up with, but he understood the fire that was burning in Jirou’s chest. He could almost feel the heat of it. The persistence. He knew it too well, because no matter how hard he tried to extinguish it, the same flames burned in his own. “If you’re so sure, you should tell her that.”

“Not so easy.” Jirou frowned. “Iida is just so good. If she was with someone terrible, it wouldn’t be so hard.” 

Bakugou shrugged. “If you feel so strongly about how wrong it is, then it probably is wrong. Maybe it’ll work itself out. Wouldn’t get all mopey about it. I don’t feel like Yaoyorozu is someone that anyone should fuckin’ worry about.”

Bakugou was shit at advice, but Jirou looked appreciative. She nodded once, the resolve still clear in her features.

“Thanks, Bakugou.”

“I didn’t even say anything helpful.” He grumbled.

“You listened.” She insisted. “And that’s important.”

Bakugou chose to ignore this as to not risk showing an actual display of emotion. “You gonna buy something, ears? We gotta get to this stupid dinner soon.” 

“Maybe this.” She held up a pink CD, showcasing an all-female K-Pop group. Bakugou stared at.

“You find a new genre you’re into?” He accused.

“Nope.” She said. “I can’t completely change Yaomomo’s music taste, so I’ll embrace it.” And she smiled dazzlingly at Bakugou before traipsing over to the cashier and for the first time since Kirishima had walked away, Bakugou let himself smile a little bit too.  

Chapter Text

Eating was in the top three of things Kirishima loved the most, easily. A good meal could usually turn around even the worst of his bad days – bonus points if it was something filled with sugar or deep fried. Now, however, he stared down at his dinner with a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had zero appetite, and he only was able to nod half-enthusiastically as Mina babbled to him and Sero about something fashion-related. Her hand lay on his thigh under the table, making lazy, seductive circles on it. She was bold, that’s for sure. If he was into girls in the slightest, he imagined he would’ve been putty in her hand by now, but instead he was just uncomfortable and trying his hardest not to meet eyes with Bakugou, who sat across the table from him, separated by several of their classmates and what Kirishima felt was an emotional barrier.

When the blonde had walked in, he was laughing – at someone other than Kirishima. The jealousy slapped him across the face. It wasn’t like he had a monopoly on Bakugou’s laughter, but usually others had to work a lot harder than Kirishima did. Occasionally Mina got a half-amused snort out of him, or Sero and Kaminari acted particularly dumb and Kirishima would hear the soft exhale that meant Bakugou was entertained, but no one made him laugh like Kirishima. It was such a beautiful, jarringly different sound than what Bakugou usually gave that Kirishima had made it his life mission to cause it as often as he could. 

Now, though, he was laughing with Jirou, of all people. That was a sight Kirishima hadn’t expected to see. Jirou was a cool person, and Kirishima respected her. At one point, they had been good friends, and he would have considered her a member of the squad, albeit only an honorary one, because she flitted back and forth between their group, and Momo’s. Kirishima hadn’t been talking to Jirou much these days – not since she rejected Kaminari. He didn’t know the reasoning for it because Kaminari wouldn’t tell, but he knew that one of his best friends had been heartbroken over her, and he had confided in Kirishima that moving on would be easy if he didn’t have to talk to her, so Kirishima essentially cut Jirou off for him. Kirishima wondered what she could’ve possibly said that made him feel so strongly – he had known his crush was desperate, and that he had spent the entirety of their first-year pining over her, but she still must’ve been harsh to make him react the way he did. He adhered to his friend’s wishes, but it had been difficult not to feel guilty over the clear sadness in Jirou’s eyes lately. She lost a lot of friends through her fall-out with Kaminari, and although she still trailed along with Momo and Iida, she always had a forlorn expression on her face

She looked happier today. Over the past several weeks, she had been in a cloud of despair for reasons unknown to Kirishima, and he knew his friends shunning her hadn’t helped at all. With Bakugou, she seemed relaxed again, which was odd, because he was not the type of person most people felt relaxed around. She was hugging a CD to her chest, and Kirishima considered the possibility that Bakugou had bought it for her. It made his stomach hurt.

They sat on the other end of the table from him now, near Todoroki and Midoriya’s group. Bakugou must’ve really not wanted anything to do with him right now if he was actively choosing Midoriya over him. He couldn’t stop his brain from filling in worst case scenarios of why Bakugou had seemed so irate when Kirishima said he had to go. Bakugou tolerated Mina – sometimes he would wager that the boy downright liked her, so he didn’t think it had anything to do with Mina. The romantic inside of him wanted to claim jealousy as his motive, but Kirishima knew that was too good to be true, and besides, he was with Mina now. He had to stop his longing behavior for his best friend. It was really inconvenient, because he couldn’t even talk to Bakugou about it without admitting that he had gotten himself into this mess in the first place because he was trying to avoid his feelings for Bakugou. That wouldn’t go over well. He could talk to Kaminari or maybe even Sero, but both of the boys were a little lacking in the advice department, not to mention their loyalty to Mina. He really had gotten himself into a disaster scenario – and not one he had trained for.

 “You okay, Eijirou?” Mina brought him back to reality when her cold, dainty fingers crawled higher up on his thigh. He resisted the urge to rip her hand off of him. Instead, he turned to her, and smiled warmly.

 “Yeah, all good.”

 “He’s watching himself be replaced right now, Mina. That hurts a man.” Sero cut in, casting a sympathetic look at Kirishima. “I’m going through the same thing, bro, don’t worry.” He glanced longingly towards Kaminari, who was sitting near them, but was totally engrossed in his conversation with Uraraka. His eyes were filled with stars and he was clinging to her every animated and cheerful word. Kirishima shook his head. Kaminari fell in love too easily, and Uraraka was not his usual type at all. 

“He’s going for the exact opposite of Kyoka.” Mina whispered, frowning. “And yeah, speaking of Kyoka, Bakugou? You think that’s a thing?”

“Vacation romance, maybe?” Sero leaned in, his eyes shining with mischief. “They kinda make sense. Both punk. Both assholes.”

“She’s not an asshole, Hanta.” Mina squeaked, snapping her head in Kaminari’s direction. When she saw that he was still very much distracted, she relaxed, then lowered her voice even more. “Denki is just a drama queen.”

Kirishima’s head swirled with unwelcome thoughts. “I – I don’t think that that’s a thing!” He stammered. “He would’ve told me if there was something going on. And I don’t think Jirou is –”

He was going to see that Jirou wasn’t his type, but he realized he didn’t know what Bakugou’s type was. He knew what he wanted it to be, but he didn’t have any actual evidence of who or what Bakugou liked. He knew that he always got along well with Jirou – they worked closely together during the Cultural Festival last year, and they had music in common. Maybe Jirou was exactly Bakugou’s type. He didn’t finish his sentence.

“Maybe he’s shy.” Mina mused. “Bakugou doesn’t seem particularly good at emotions, and I’ve never seen him express interest in a girl before. I was starting to think that he was asexual, so good for him.”

Kirishima wanted to throw up. He didn’t want Bakugou to be interested in Jirou. He didn’t want Bakugou to be interested in girls in general, but he was a damn fool for thinking he wouldn’t be. Someone that manly couldn’t be gay. It was a faraway dream.

“Ei? You with us?” Mina pinched his thigh.

“Huh?”

Sero bristled. “You’re so spacy today, dude. Got something on your mind? I was saying that you should talk to Baku about it, and make sure he knows that Kami is gonna freak if it gets serious.”

“It’s not serious.” Kirishima said. “I mean. I don’t know. But I doubt it.”

“Serious enough that he’s over there sitting with her instead of us. Losing another bro.” Sero sighed. “Girls are the devil.”

 “Rude!”

 “You don’t count, Mina.” He insisted when Mina pouted. “You’re one of the guys.”

She seemed placated by that. She was honored by her status as a bro. “Anyway.” She continued her gossip. “I wouldn’t put it past Bakugou to do her just to piss Denki off.” Mina smirked. “He’s got such a vendetta against him.”

Kirishima nearly choked on his rice. “Do her?”

 “Yeah, people have sex, Kiri.” Sero said seriously. “I know you wouldn’t know, but.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to protest, even though he was very much a virgin, but Mina was too quick for him.

 “Shut up, when’s the last time you got laid, Hanta?” She snorted.

 “What do you mean? You were there.” He said seriously, then his lips curled into his signature shit-eating grin. Mina blushed in spite of herself and crept her fingers up impossibly higher on Kirishima’s thigh. If she didn’t stop, she was going to be groping him in the restaurant. He gently pushed her hand down to a safer place, resting it on her knee. Mina didn’t react, but he saw her shoulders fall. 

 Kirishima needed to direct the subject away from sex before he had a panic attack. “I doubt Bakugou is gonna do anything with Jirou and we shouldn’t be talking about this!” He said quietly, terrified somehow that he would be overheard, even though Bakugou was about as far away from him as he could possibly get. He chanced another quick look at him, and found the blonde was gazing at Jirou with rapt attention. He forced his face into a neutral mask before he turned back to his friends.

 “I guess we’ll see, man. Don’t be so jealous, though. You’ll find someone.” Sero winked. Kirishima knew what was coming. He felt Mina’s hand leave his leg, heard her small intake of breath, saw the excited purple blush on her cheeks. He knew it was coming and he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t handle this, but he had to. He had gotten himself into this, and he had to live with the consequences until he figured it out.

 “About that.” Mina said innocently. The hand that had been on his thigh was suddenly intertwined with the hand he had resting on the table idly. Kirishima reacted just slightly, pressing his fingers to hers and responding when she squeezed. He didn’t think they fit together well.

Sero’s eyes widened. “What? Shit, really? When did that happen?”

“Bout an hour ago.” Mina said airily.

 “Lucky guy.” He said to Kirishima, smiling only a little, then looking down. Kirishima desperately wanted to move on from this announcement – it was in the open now. They could continue with another conversation, but life could never be that easy for him.

 “Wait, what? What is this?” Kaminari had finally ripped his eyes from Uraraka at the worst time possible and was staring accusingly at Mina and Kirishima’s hands. “Do I mean nothing to you people? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

 “Oh.” Uraraka gasped. “Are you two…together?” She bit her lip, looking almost nervous about it. 

 “Yes.” Mina practically squealed. She wasn’t giving Kirishima a chance to speak at all, which was probably for the better. He didn’t think he could play his part convincingly. Not now, when his stomach bubbled with anxiety and his head was throbbing with negative thoughts and fears. “Finally.” 

 “Aw, good for you guys!” This was Hagakure, from her spot next to Kirishima. She had been engaged in conversation with Ojiro and paying them no mind, but she had a radar for gossip. “You’re such a sweet couple.”

Their whole side of the table was starting to buzz with the news of their “relationship”. Ojiro grinned sincerely at Kirishima and offered his congratulations. Tokoyami nodded solemnly, which Kirishima knew was his way of showing approval. Mina gushed to Uraraka about their café date where “the magic had happened” while Kaminari shot pointed glances at Kirishima. He ignored them. He would figure out his own version to tell his friends later when they inevitably asked. Right now, all he could focus on was Bakugou. Had he heard? He chanced another look towards the other end of the table and was half-relieved half-pained to see that he and Jirou were engaged in some kind of deep conversation, so neither of them were paying any attention to the commotion around them.

Until Midoriya – ridiculously kind Midoriya – bless his heart for he knew not what he did – stared at Kirishima with a doe-eyed expression. “Oh, wow!” He called. “Congratulations to you two!” 

Kirishima had only begun to open his mouth to respond with sheepish gratitude when Bakugou’s eyes snapped up and landed on Kirishima and Mina’s entangled hands. His expression was impossible to read. It was interested, it was furious, it was unbothered – Kirishima couldn’t tell. Bakugou was a master of concealing emotions.

Kirishima looked at him, desperately, begging him to understand that none of it was real. He wished he could convey in one glance. He wanted nothing more than to tell his best friend the truth.

Bakugou let his glare linger for just a moment, then he went back to viciously attacking his food, no longer smiling at whatever Jirou had been saying. He ate with vigor, and Kirishima couldn’t stop himself from continuously glancing back at him, responding only half-heartedly to everyone’s well-meaning questions about his situation with Mina. He didn’t even know what he could call it. He told her he liked her. He lied to her. He had to own up to that, but how?

Kirishima considered acting like a bad boyfriend so that Mina would dump him, but he didn’t think he had it in him. That would hurt Mina and damage their relationship irreversibly. If he was a jerk, and things ended badly, then nothing would ever be the same, and not just for him and Mina. He didn’t think his friends would have any respect for him if he treated her unfairly, and he knew they could turn on him just like they turned on Jirou. 

He felt a pang in his heart for the girl. He wouldn’t want to be treated the way they were treating Jirou. 

He knew there were ways to come out of this unscathed – Kaminari and Sero were living proof of that. Both had gotten romantically involved with Mina, and both had let it fizzle out naturally, not taking offense when Mina inevitably got bored with their arrangement. There was one issue with that, though: it ended after things got sexual.

The panic set in then. What had he done? Kirishima couldn’t ignore Mina’s reputation. It was talked about among their friend group as a casual thing, and all throughout the school. Kaminari called her “their little vixen” and jealous girls from other classes whispered about her in the hallways. Mina didn’t mind at all. She loved sex and she was proud of that fact. She loved everything that came with it. She had told Kirishima all about her sex life – too much detail, most of the time – and Kirishima knew that she would have expectations of him if they were going to be in whatever sort of relationship this was.

Kirishima could fake a lot of things. It was second nature for him to act put together, to smile when he was anxious or stressed, to take the lead even when he had no confidence in himself at all. It was the manly thing to do – to not let his true emotions show through. However, he didn’t think he could fake that with Mina. He had tried – he had kissed girls in middle school, messed around a little bit his first year with a girl he met at a concert, and even tried to watch porn to awaken some deep desire for the opposite sex, only for it all to further drive home the fact that he was painstakingly aware of: he was supremely gay. He wouldn’t be able to give Mina what she wanted and then he would for sure be exposed.

He needed to avoid that at all costs. 

There was a loud clatter and Kirishima turned towards it automatically, his senses trained to react at anything unusual – but it was just the clang of silverware on a still-full plate, and then the scraping of a chair as it was pushed back. Kirishima watched as Bakugou stood up and stalked out of the restaurant without saying anything to anyone. The sudden exit attracted the attention of everyone at the table, including their teachers who had previously seemed to be in their own little world.

“Where is he going?” Aizawa asked, agitated as usual. Bakugou had calmed down in recent years, but he did always have a flare for the dramatic. 

“Oh no.” Uraraka had concern written all over her face. She hopped up too. “I’m gonna go after him.”

“Why?” Kaminari sounded disappointed. “He probably just got sick of interacting with people. You know how he is.”

“Yeah,” Uraraka agreed. “I know how he is, alright. I’ve gotta talk to him, but see you tonight?”

That seemed to placate him. “See you tonight.” He said with a dopey smile. Kirishima bit his lip and watched Uraraka run out of the restaurant with a terrible feeling in his gut.

Mina noticed. “Bakugou’s a big boy, Ei.” Mina said, halfway reading his mind. She was good at that, usually. Except in cases when he was faking his entire relationship with her – she didn’t catch that yet. “You gotta let him learn to be on his own, ya know?” 

“What?” Kirishima felt his face turn warm. “I know that. I’m not –”

“Hey, Miiina.” Kaminari came to his rescue with a taunting note to his voice. “I bet you can’t eat an entire spoonful of this hot sauce.”

She was instantly distracted. “You doubt my power?” 

Kirishima said a silent thank you to Kaminari, even though his friend had no idea that he had just saved him from a potentially awkward explanation. He wasn’t worried about Bakugou, per say. He knew Bakugou. He knew that when things got to be too much, he just needed to walk away. It happened all the time and Kirishima always respected that he needed some space – but there was always a reason. He would storm off after losing a fight or getting in an argument with one of their friends, or after any moment of weakness. He never did it without a reason. 

So, what was his reason now?

Kirishima shook the thought out of his head. He couldn’t focus on Bakugou right now. He would talk to him later that night – at their swim lesson. Bakugou was in a mood, but if there was one thing he didn’t do, it was break promises. He would be there, and so would Kirishima, and he would act as normal as humanly possible. Until then, though, he had to give all his attention to Mina, and figure out a way out of this situation that kept both of their feelings intact.

-x-

 It was Uraraka who found him. It always was.

“Hey.” She sat down next to him on the swing. He didn’t know why he came back to this stupid park, or how Uraraka knew he would be there, but he didn’t have the mental energy to fight with her. 

Kirishima liked Mina. He was with Mina. Of course he was. He had been stupid to think anything other than that would happen.

“Hey.” He said back, continuing to stare at his feet. 

“You okay?” She asked, even though both of them knew he wasn’t. Uraraka had enough respect for him to let him be the one to disclose what he felt he could, and he appreciated her for it. This, however, he couldn’t talk about. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“Fine.” He lied. “Just got too hot in there.”

“You like when it’s hot.” Uraraka pointed out, not accusing him of anything, but rather just stating a fact. He did like when it was hot. It was good for his quirk. 

“Sometimes.” He settled on as a response. The less words he said, the less he would have to lie to her.

“Did you finish eating?” She idly pumped her feet and the swing groaned with the effort of it. “I told Tsu to get my leftovers, and we can share on the bus if you want.”

Bakugou knew that even if he lived ten lifetimes, he would never do enough to be deserving of Uraraka’s friendship. 

“I ate enough.” He said, which was another lie. He had been too unsettled to eat; too hyper-focused on wondering what Kirishima and Mina had talked about in that damn café. Jirou had been a good distraction. She had a lot of stories that required Bakugou only to nod every so often and look interested, but once he had seen Kirishima with his hand in Mina’s, he could no longer think about anything else but getting out of there.

“Okay, I’ll share anyway.” 

They sat in silence after that, the only sound the rhythmic creaking of the swing set as Uraraka kicked her legs. Finally, she spoke again. “You can trust me, you know?”

“Why would you think I don’t already?” Bakugou chanced a look at her, and regretted it immediately, because her brown eyes were boring into him. He quickly tore his gaze away. She knew, but he couldn’t confirm it. Saying it out loud would make it real, and Bakugou wanted nothing more than for it to be not fucking real. “It’s not anything, Round Face.”

“I don’t think it’s serious.” She whispered. “Mina and Eijirou.” 

“Why would I give a fuck if it is?” He narrowed his eyes, on the defensive now. He had to be convincing Uraraka was treading carefully. He could feel the tension radiating off of her.

“Because I know it hurts. To watch…to lose a friend, to someone else.” She said haltingly. 

Bakugou didn’t know what she was talking about. If she had lost a friend, it had not been someone Bakugou knew. She still hung out around Deku and Four Eyes all the time, and Asui was practically surgically attached to her. He scoffed.

“I should be thanking the alien freak for taking Shitty Hair off my hands.” Bakugou said, his words devoid of all emotion. “He’s annoying.” 

“You don’t think that.” Uraraka had stopped swinging now. She had her full attention on him.

“I fuckin’ do.” Bakugou snapped, trying to keep his voice even but hearing the slight undertone of emotion. “He’s a pain. Always fuckin’ following me and shit. Only been two days and I’m sick of him so, yeah, she’s doing me a fuckin’ favor.” His voice cracked on the last word and he closed his eyes tight, not wanting to see Uraraka give him that pitiful look of worry. He could feel tears threatening to well up in his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them. He wasn’t such a little bitch.

“Okay.” Uraraka said softly. “That’s fine, Katsuki. If that’s how you feel, it’s okay.” 

“It is how I feel.” He choked out, hearing the weakness in his own ears and hating it.

Uraraka exhaled. “Ya know, Eijirou is going to need a friend through this. New relationships are hard, right? I don’t think you should abandon him over it. He hasn’t abandoned you, just because he’s with her.”

Uraraka’s words made more sense than he wanted them to. As much as he wanted to just hide out in his room for the rest of this terrible trip and avoid Kirishima’s stupid face until he got over whatever this sickening feeling – he wouldn’t call it a crush – he knew he couldn’t. He would have to act like a normal goddamn human being and not this weak, emotional, shitty excuse for a hero. And acting normal meant hanging around Kirishima.

“Don’t make it sound so damn dramatic, Round Face.” Bakugou huffed, confident that he had kept the tears at bay, for now. “He’s not the first dude in the history of the fuckin’ world to get laid.” The words were ripped out of his throat and they tasted sour.

Uraraka laughed at that. “You’re right about that, but I know you, Katsu. More than you think, okay?” 

“What’s that supposed to fuckin’ mea –” 

She reached over the distance between them and put her hand minus one finger on his arm. “It means that you can trust me, like I said. You can tell me anything, or you can tell me nothing. But I’m here. I’m here for you no matter what.” 

Bakugou sighed. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, pink cheeks.”

Uraraka squeezed his arm once, then released him. “As lovely as this playground is, I know Aizawa wants to leave soon. You kinda made a bit of a scene back there and I think he realized he was sick of spending time with us.”

Bakugou snorted. “He’s got another thirteen days of it. And I didn’t make a scene. Can’t anyone do anything here without everyone getting all worked up about it?”

“When has anyone in our class not gotten worked up over something?” Uraraka laughed. “Point is – it’s time to go.”

Bakugou didn’t want to go yet. He didn’t want to face Kirishima, but he repeated the mantra that he had been telling himself since the confusing feelings started: be fucking normal.

He let Uraraka lead him back into the town, and he stood outside of the restaurant while she went into the restaurant to retrieve her leftovers from Asui, and probably explain to everyone what had happened. He wasn’t worried about what she would say. Uraraka was great at keeping information to herself. She came back out a moment later, and they walked in silence to the bus.

When they reached it, Uraraka plopped down next to him after Bakugou had sat down and held out a Styrofoam box to him. “It’s probably cold, and not spicy like you like, but –”  

“Thanks, Ochako.” An act this kind warranted usage of her first name. Bakugou opened the box and began scarfing down the leftovers. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but Uraraka absolutely did not tolerate wasting food, so he knew what had to be done in order to placate her. 

The rest of the students began filing onto the bus soon after. Bakugou spied Jirou, who gave him a questioning glance. He shrugged his shoulders in response. He had walked out on dinner in the middle of their completely normal conversation, so she probably did expect an explanation, but Bakugou wouldn’t give her one right then. Bakugou spotted Kirishima’s hair before the rest of him came into view, but he was, as expected, with Mina. The alien was gripping his hand, yanking him with her in a way that made Kirishima seem like a rag doll. He caught Bakugou’s eye, and he seemed desperate, but Bakugou was probably just projecting his own shitty emotions onto Kirishima’s bewildered face. 

Uraraka’s words rung in his head. Even when she wasn’t speaking, she wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. 

Don’t abandon him. He didn’t abandon you. Bakugou knew it was true. Kirishima didn’t know about the war that was waging inside of him right now. He didn’t know how bad it hurt to see him with Mina, or why it hurt. Bakugou didn’t even know why it hurt, but it wouldn’t be fair to Kirishima to punish him for this. Besides, he didn’t know who he would hang out with on this stupid beach trip if it wasn’t the shitty haired redhead. He would just have to get over it. Whatever it was.

He leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes, wishing he was back on campus, in his dorm, before any of this happened, but he wasn’t. He was here, and he would face it, because that’s what heroes fucking did.

Chapter Text

Kirishima was finding it hard to maintain his cheerful, upbeat personality that he was known for when he was guarding such an unwholesome secret. It wasn’t him, and it was throwing off his attitude. Normally, when he was surrounded by his wonderful friends like this – Sero on his left, cracking joke after joke, Mina on his right, playing with his fingers. That part was a new addition and had everything to do with his newfound unease around the people he loved.

That and the fact that one of his most treasured squad-mates was mysterious missing. No one batted an eye at Bakugou’s absence except Kirishima, but that wasn’t a surprise. Bakugou didn’t exactly sell himself as somebody who would be excited to spend an evening sitting in a living room just talking.

He tried not to think about it. He was probably just in their room – asleep. It was late enough for that to be logical.

Instead of worrying – which is truly what he did best – he tried to hone in on what Mina and Sero were arguing about, snapping back and forth while Kirishima sat in the middle. He was the go-to mediator for these things, but he just didn’t have it in him tonight.

“I’m just saying that if Monoma touched Hagakure, he would absolutely turn invisible!” Sero cried.

“Wrong! That would mean he’d turn into a frog if he touched Tsu, or a bird if he touched Tokoyami!” Mina shrieked back, raising the hand that held Kirishima’s in the air in protest.

“I’m not a full bird…” Tokoyami said weakly. He was ignored.

“He would!” Sero insisted.

Kirishima was suddenly feeling very, very exhausted. “Hey, I’m gonna head up, guys.” He flexed his fingers against Mina’s, prompting her to release him. She complied, but not before pouting and nudging her head against him, poking her horns into his shoulder.

“Why are you always running off, Ei?” Mina whined. “This is the second night in a row you’ve gone to bed so early on vacation.”

“I’m tired, remember, I told you that I’m going to go on a run every morning.” He tried to keep his voice from wavering with dishonesty. Thankfully, it was only half a lie. He wasn’t tired, but he did plan on running tomorrow morning with Bakugou. That is, if Bakugou wanted the company. “Just because it’s because doesn’t mean I can’t train.” He tended to ramble when he lied. With a particularly jumping heartbeat, he realized that Mina knew that. Fake dating would have been a lot easier if it wasn’t one of his closest friends.

“Yeah, Mina. The grind never stops.” Kaminari said lazily from his spot on the couch. Kirishima really needed to do something nice for Kaminari – like commission Sato to bake him a cake. He was a true bro for coming in at the perfect time to district Mina – an unintentional bro. Uraraka was next to him, and while there was serious direct content, their thighs were touching, and Kirishima was shocked by how much progress the boy had made in such a short period of time. Maybe that’s how he could pay him back – by being a wingman at some point.

“Very admirable of you, Eijirou, ribbet.” Asui croaked from the other side of Uraraka. “I didn’t know you were a runner.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima mumbled shortly, not enjoying the attention that was suddenly on him. A flush crept into his cheeks.

“Maybe we should start joining you!” Midoriya exclaimed. “Make it a class activity!”

“Great idea, Midoriya!” Iida proclaimed, startling Momo slightly, who has leaning just slightly against him. Jirou said next to her, staring at the screen but eyes were glazed over.

“Wow, not a great idea at all whatsoever.” Uraraka said. “Deku, you of all people need to relax on this trip. If Eijirou wants to be a masochist, I’m all for it, but you, Deku, need a break.”

Midoriya blushed wildly at being called out so personally and muttered under his breath about how he was fine, really, and he didn’t need a break, but Kirishima tuned him out as he so often did. He could’ve tackled Uraraka into a hug with how grateful he was to her for helping him keep his cover. She didn’t know – couldn’t know – but she had just saved him a lot of extra lying. He had been lying too much already on this trip and soon the guilt was going to devour him.

“Yeah, hard pass, but power to ya, Kiri.” Sero said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kirishima waved them away, playing at bashful. “Goodnight, guys.” Kirishima smiled warmly at the majority of his class, gathered together in the living room. Most of them were caught up in side conversations or playing on their phones or flirting with the ones who sat so closely to them, so they just gave him vague acknowledgment. He turned to go.

 “Oh, Kirishima!” Kaminari called. “Make sure to get all your running in over the next few days. Need you for something soon.” His eyes twinkled and Kirishima couldn’t help but smile back. Kaminari was obviously up to something – one of his usual pranks or schemes, and that was normalcy. That was what Kirishima needed in order to function as a normal human being and not a walking lie for the rest of this trip and until he got things straightened out with Mina and his own internal feelings.

“Sure thing, dude.” He said, then he smiled his last fake smile (for them, surely not for the night if Bakugou was in their room) and departed. He got to his room and swallowed his nerves that were buzzing in his chest. Sharing a room with his crush had seemed like a great idea in retrospect, but now that he had gone and ruined everything before it began, it was just anxiety inducing.

He pushed open the door, expecting to see Bakugou sitting in his bed and scrolling through his phone, grumpy and anti-social but adorable, as usual. Kirishima could feel the sigh of relief that was building inside of him – Bakugou was comfort. Bakugou felt like home. But he was not greeted by his irritable best friend, he was met instead with emptiness.

Worry hit him instantly. Where would he have gone? All of their classmates were in the living room, and he had passed Mic and Eraser in the kitchen on his way upstairs, so there was nowhere he could imagine Bakugou would be. It was ten o’clock – too dark to be wandering outside by himself. He bit his lip and sent him a quick text – the first communication he had had with him since the playground. His stomach fluttered as he thought of all the possibilities – was Bakugou mad at him? Avoiding him?

Yo. Wya?

A few moments passed before he got a response. He stared at his phone the entire time, fingers twitching over the keys. Training.

Kirishima looked down at his phone judgmentally, as if he was looking at the actual Bakugou and not just his words. It’s dark?

This response was quicker: Lightbulbs exist.

Kirishima chuckled at the classic Bakugou response – the blonde completely missed the point as usual. Is there even a gym here?

There’s a pool.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in sudden panic. Shit. He forgot! He was so wound up with his double life that he forgot he and Bakugou had planned to meet tonight – right around this time – for swimming lessons. He wanted to punch himself for his stupidity.

Right. On my way!

He threw his clothes off and let them lie littered on the floor as he hopped into his swim trunks, snagged a towel and opened the sliding glass door that led to the deck.

They were lucky with this room – the deck had a set of stairs that led right down to the pool below them, so he didn’t have to pass his classmates in the living room again. If he didn’t have this escape, he would’ve had to find another way, because bailing on Bakugou wasn’t an option for him.

When he reached the pool, Bakugou was already in the water, swimming laps back and forth, kicking off the wall and using his arms to propel himself forward. Kirishima let himself stare, just for a self-indulgent moment, as Bakugou maneuvered gracefully through the water, propelling himself forward with incredibly powerful arms. Kirishima always loved training with Bakugou because it gave him an opportunity to sneak peeks that he would hold onto for later. He had spent many nights imagining what those arms would feel like wrapped around him.

“Oi, Shitty Hair. Spacing out as usual.”

Kirishima startled, then looked down to see Bakugou leaned over the ledge of the pool, glaring up at Kirishima through wet eyelashes.

He bit his lip, then cleared his throat. “Sorry. Yeah. As usual.” He laughed once, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t forget, I just –”

 “It’s cool.” Bakugou interrupted him. “Didn’t think you’d show up. Wasn’t gonna stop me from training anyway.”

“Of course I showed up!” Kirishima protested, even though he almost hadn’t. “I said I would.” He was glad his crippling self-hatred had forced him back into his room early, because if there was one thing Bakugou hated, it was someone going back on his word. He tried to ignore the guilt that came with forgetting.

“Yeah,” Bakugou said simply. “You did.”

“So, ready to start teaching?” Kirishima smiled hopefully. His heart thrummed erratically in his chest.

“It’s what I live for.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, but Kirishima knew that was a good sign. There was no awkwardness from earlier, no hostility. Everything was okay. Everything would be okay. He would figure things out.

They fell into a quiet rhythm of Bakugou explaining, demonstrating and then leaning back expectantly to watch Kirishima as he floundered through the water. By his third attempt of backstroke that ended with him scrambling into Bakugou’s arms, he was starting to think he was never going to get it.

“It’s just – ” He gasped when Bakugou deposited yet again at the edge of the pool, “I keep thinking I’m gonna sink.”

“You’re thinking too much about your fears.” Bakugou said. “Think about other shit. Distract yourself. Here, we’ll start with something easier – just try to fuckin’ float.”

“Okay.” Kirishima took a deep breath. He pushed himself back and tried to focus on anything but his weight and how it would easily propel him down to the bottom of the pool, and he wouldn’t be able to easily get up, and –

“Kirishima.” Bakugou plucked him out of the water again as he started to flail, wrapping his arms thoughtlessly around his waist so he could hold onto him. “Thinking too damn much, I told you.” He growled. Then, “What’s up with you and Alien Queen?”

Kirishima was lucky he was holding onto Bakugou, or he would’ve really drowned due to the shock of hearing the question come out of Bakugou’s mouth.

Since when did Bakugou care about that kind of stuff? Whenever they were talking about girls – mostly Kaminari and Sero – Bakugou couldn’t be bothered. He would mumble under his breath about what a waste of time relationships were, about how Sero and Kaminari would never be top heroes at their rate, and how stupid they were. Bakugou had never once asked anyone a relationship question in all the time that Kirishima had known him.

“What…what do you mean?” He asked dumbly, then cursed himself, because he knew what he meant.

Bakugou pushed Kirishima back into the water again. “Float.” He demanded. Kirishima flipped over onto his back and tried to focus on remaining buoyant. “And you know what I mean, Shitty Hair. You two are fucking now?”

And Kirishima went under. He broke back up to the surface and grabbed onto Bakugou. “We aren’t fucking!” He cried indignantly.

“Oh, yeah, yet.” He shook Kirishima off. “Again.”

Kirishima kicked his feet like Bakugou taught him. “No, I told you, it’s not like that.” He insisted.

“It’s Ashido. It’s always like that.” Bakugou chuckled darkly. “She’s fucked half the school.”

“Not you?” Kirishima said, half a question, half a point.

“Please, I was the first one she fuckin’ tried to get. I told her to get lost.” Bakugou said passively.

“No way.” Kirishima rolled over onto his stomach and kicked his legs under the water to practice his treading. He moved his arms slowly, not frantically, like he had been instructed. “Really?”

“Sure. She said some dumb shit the second week of school about stress relief.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not floating.” He pointed out.

Kirishima groaned, then did as he was told, letting himself feel weightless in the water. He wasn’t bothered by Bakugou’s words – he knew Mina’s reputation, and he knew that she would want a sexual relationship with him, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He couldn’t think about it right now without his stomach hurting. However, the fact that she approached Bakugou and he turned her down gave him a strange feeling of lightness. Bakugou wasn’t interested in one of the most desirable girls in school. That was a good thing.

“You didn’t wanna go for it?” Kirishima dared the question.

“Not my type.” He said simply. “You’re doing well.”

Kirishima suddenly was aware that he hadn’t sunk yet – that he was floating easily on his back, kicking his legs lazily to keep himself up. It was a start. “Thanks.” He smiled up at the sky, feeling warm inside for more than one reason. “Hey, can I go running with you tomorrow?”

“I fuckin’ guess, but if you don’t wake up on time, I’m leaving you behind.”

“You got it!”

-x-

 Kirishima was drenched in sweat and panting hard by the time his run was over. As it turns out, running on the beach was not at all as easy as they made it look in the movies. He felt like he was running with fifty-pound weights tied to his ankles, and the sun beating down on the back of his neck was brutal. Not to mention, he was running with Bakugou, whose personal mission in life was to push his limits further than any man should be able to go. Over the years, Kirishima had gotten really good at keeping pace with him, but they were on vacation, and his mind was faraway in places other than training.

 “Not fuckin’ bad, Shitty Hair..” Bakugou said, standing in front of Kirishima with his hands on his hips. He wasn’t even breathing heavy – it was ridiculous. 

“Thanks. You’re alright too.” Kirishima wheezed. Bakugou’s lips almost turned upwards into a smirk. Kirishima looked in the direction of the calm, early-morning ocean waves. They weren’t as threatening at this time – they lapped gently at the shore in an almost welcoming way. 

“I think I’m ready to try swimming in the ocean.” He said confidently. 

“Tch. You’ve had two swimming lessons and you think you’re an Olympian or something? Relax.” Bakugou said, following Kirishima’s line of sight out to the ocean. “You’re not even wearing your swimsuit, stupid.”

Kirishima smiled devilishly. He was riding an exercise high, and all the time spent with Bakugou was making him feel courageous. It was so easy with him. He could forget everything that plagued him. All his anxieties melted away. “Who said we need them?” He peeled off his sweat-soaked tank top and discarded it in the sand.  

 “You better quit messing around, idiot. You might drown.” Bakugou eyed him dangerously, and Kirishima’s heart fluttered in his chest. Sometimes, the way he looked at him, it seemed like – he had to shake the thought out of his head. Bakugou was looking at him like he was insane, not like he was a meal. Kirishima couldn’t blame him – ripping off his shirt and pants and proclaiming that he was going to dive into the ocean after only having two swimming lesson.

“Nah, you wouldn’t let me.” Kirishima flashed a grin at him. 

“Don’t think you wanna test that theory.” Bakugou snorted, his expression still deadly. Kirishima had to stop himself from shivering, even though the sun was getting hotter as the morning went on. 

 “Maybe I do.” Kirishima said, and then he didn’t give himself time to second-guess his actions. In a spurt of manic bravery, he took off sprinting into the embrace of the dark blue ocean.

 “Oi!” Bakugou called after him, agitated, but Kirishima ignored him. The waves were freezing against his warm body, and the waves knocked at him, leaving him unsteady at his feet. He stood firm, trying to sink himself into the sand so that he wouldn’t fall over, keeping his breathing even and reminding himself that it was just water, and he could do this. 

He wanted Bakugou to join him, but he knew he couldn’t expect too much from the blonde. Having fun was something that had to be thrust upon him in a sense – he was way too serious most of the time, but Kirishima felt that he balanced him out. Bakugou inspired him to want to be a better hero, gave him confidence, comfort, happiness and in return, he made Bakugou laugh. It was the best he had to offer.

He smiled at the boy from the waves. He was standing, arms crossed, clothes still very much on, glaring daggers into Kirishima. “Gonna leave you’re ass here and then no one will find you if you drown.” 

 “I know how to swim now, thanks to my great teacher!” Kirishima teased, turning to face away from him and venture out further into the waves. It wasn’t bad at all, once he got the hang of it. He submerged himself to his chest, then his neck, then practiced the treading technique that Bakugou had taught him. “See?” He shouted, as proof. “I know what I’m doi –” 

His words were cut off as a wave smacked into him from behind, knocking him under and flipping him around like he was caught in a tornado. His back hit the rocky floor and water shot up his nose. 

He wasn’t under for long enough to panic before rough arms were yanking him out and throwing him against the shore. “Fucking –  I told you, Kirishima!” Bakugou was standing above him, looking furious. “Stop trying to fuckin’ drown!” 

Maybe he was imagining it, but Kirishima thought there was worry etched into his features. His red eyes were angry, but he wasn’t wearing his usual pissed-off-at-life glare. There was something more there – he could see it. 

Then he blinked, and it was gone, and Kirishima could only stare in wonder. 

 “You got water in your fuckin’ ears, moron?” Bakugou snapped at him. 

“Hah,” Kirishima sat up slowly. He did feel off-balance. His nose burned and his eyes stung, and he most definitely did have water in his ears. “Guess so.” He said and tilted his head to the side to let everything drain out.

“Goddamn idiot, I swear.” Bakugou turned away, grumbling. “You’re lucky I’m always around to save your life.”

“Thanks, man.” Kirishima smiled weakly. He couldn’t look at Bakugou for too long, or he would give himself away. He didn’t think he minded the water anymore – not if it gave him an opportunity for to have Bakugou’s hands on him. “Guess I need more practice?” He asked hopefully.

Bakugou scoffed. “Yeah, you fuckin’ do.” He paused, taking a deep and long-suffering breath. “Don’t go into the ocean again until you can handle damn self.” He muttered. “I don’t trust those idiots to keep you from drowning.” 

He said the sentence so quietly, that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly at all. “What did you say?” He asked and hoped the sound of his heart leaping into his throat wasn’t obvious.

 “Didn’t fuckin’ say anything. Let’s go. Put your clothes back on. Idiot.” His words came out flustered and he abruptly walked away, leaving Kirishima with his butt in the sand. 

He scrambled to his feet, hopping into his shorts and throwing his tank top over his shoulder. “Hey, wait for me!” He called. The grin was seeping into his voice. He loved the beach.

-x-

Bakugou knew that sitting in his room and watching videos all day would yet again be a faraway dream for him today, but at day three surrounded by his classmates, he was getting exhausted and he wished he could just tell everyone to fuck off. Being around Kirishima generally kept him calm in the face of all the other extras, but this trip had been draining.

After Uraraka and his talk on at the playground, he had been determined to get a handle on whatever he was dealing with. He had even asked him about Ashido last night, like a normal friend would. He would be lying if he said he also hadn’t wanted to get a read on the situation, and try to convince himself that he didn’t care, but all it did was fill him with rage. At least he had been able to keep his cool around Kirishima. He was pretty sure he had sounded convincingly disinterested.

The second they got back to their room, Kirishima was carelessly stripping off his clothes – like he didn’t know or give a shit what he looked like – and running into the bathroom to change into his bathing suit. 

“Breakfast, dude!” He said happily. “Then beach!”

It wasn’t like Bakugou particularly wanted to go to the beach with Kirishima and have to be normal around everyone else when he was in some sort of state of chaos, but he felt he had a certain responsibility for his life, and drowning would be such a lame way to die. He owed Kirishima for that one time he saved his life from the League of Idiots, after all. He didn’t let him die, so Bakugou wouldn’t let him die in the ocean. 

It was fucking logical. 

 “Do you ever chill out?” Bakugou grumbled at him.

 “Says you!” Kirishima laughed, and his face lit up. He was in an incredibly good mood since their run, and Bakugou had a sinking feeling that it had everything to do with Ashido. “You made us run before eight this morning – on vacation!”

 “I didn’t make you do shit. You can make your own decisions.” He rolled his eyes. 

 “Yeah, yeah.” Kirishima waved him away, then seemed to take explicit notice of the fact that Bakugou had made no attempt to put on his swimsuit. He sat on his bed in his still damp clothes, staring at his phone so that he wouldn’t have to look at Kirishima. “Hey!” Suddenly the redhead was in his face, with his hands on his thighs. “Get dressed! Satou was already cooking when we got back! If we wait too long, there won’t be anything left!”

Bakugou’s ears went red, and his chest felt like it was on fire. Kirishima’s hands were on him. He was touchy, but he hadn’t touched him like that before, not close to such a sensitive, responsive area. He needed him off, or he was going to have to have a very embarrassing problem to explain. “Oi! Get off me, idiot!” He shoved him away and ignited his palm. “Do that again and I’ll blow your face off!” 

Kirishima threw his hands up in surrender, the smile finally wiped off his face. Bakugou found himself immediately wishing it would come back – hated being the reason it left.

 “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to –” He began, but Bakugou cut him off. He needed Kirishima to leave. He needed to be alone.

 “I’m not hungry. I’ll see you later.” His tone was dismissive, and he watched as Kirishima’s face fell completely. 

 “I’m sorry, I –” He stammered.

 “Fuck, get out!” Bakugou snapped. 

Kirishima gave him a hopeless, apologetic look, but then his eyes fell to the floor in shame. He grabbed his towel and shuffled quickly out of the door without saying anything else.

Bakugou waited a beat to make sure he was really gone and didn’t forget anything he’d have to come back for, but judging by the expression on Kirishima’s face, even if he had, he would stay away. He fell back against his pillow, not caring that his hair was salty and covered in sand and groaned loudly. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What was wrong with him? Why was Kirishima affecting him so much? Had the redhead always been so goddamn appealing? Was he just noticing? He had to be imagining the flirting – that was just who Kirishima was. Touchy, overfriendly, like a big, dumb puppy. He was like that with everyone, and Bakugou knew that, why was it making him so crazy now? It was a fucking inconvenience. He had a girlfriend. He liked girls. Not Bakugou. And Bakugou didn’t have time for this shit. He didn’t have time for relationships anyway – even if he did like boys – which, fuck, he didn’t – he wouldn’t bother.

Bakugou focused his attention on his phone, trying to calm himself down. When Kirishima had put his hands on his legs – he had felt it in his stomach. A fluttering, dizzying feeling. The heat from his touch had gone straight to his groin and the little twitch in response was all Bakugou needed to know Kirishima had to get off of him immediately. 

He hadn’t meant to be so…himself about it. Over the past two years, he had been working on his temper, and while he was still quick to irritation and had a horrible mouth, usually he was able to keep his emotions in check and not actually blow up on any of his classmates – especially not Kirishima. 

Something was wrong with him to be viewing Kirishima this way. Maybe he had been hit by a quirk before the trip and it was just now manifesting. Maybe it was the lack of sleep.

He typed something into his search bar and then stared at the ceiling while he waited for it to load, ashamed. He forced himself to look back at it and found the website he was looking for, then clicked it.

Girls with sultry eyes in various sexual positions greeted him. He scrolled endlessly, keeping his eyes on the thumbnails, trying to find one that appealed to him. None of them did. It all looked too contrived – the girls were wearing too much makeup, were making ridiculous faces. Still, he kept looking.

He picked on one randomly and watched as two girls kissed on screen before tearing each other’s clothes off. It was unrealistic, and the acting made Bakugou cringe, but he continued observing as the girls touched each other, pushing his own pants down and gripping his dick. He went through the motions – up and down, languidly, but his body was not reacting to the video. He tried to find interest in it – to see what Kaminari and Sero were always talking about, soft bodies, thick curves, breathy, high-pitched moans, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to watch it. He wanted to watch Kirishima – Kirishima against the headboard of the bed, legs spread, arms pinned behind his head, squirming as Bakugou ran his hands down his body –

Fuck. His dick stood at attention now, growing with dirty thoughts about one of his best fucking friends.

He was so fucked. So incredibly fucked. He needed a way out of this situation, and fast. He needed help. He needed to stop seeing Kirishima like this. He needed a distraction. He needed to talk to Uraraka.

Chapter Text

“Dude, you alright? You look like you’re about to cry into your breakfast bowl.” Kaminari cocked his head to the side and gave Kirishima a concerned look. The two were sitting on the deck, watching the waves while they ate. Well, Kirishima wasn’t eating much; he was mixing the contents of his bowl into one gray colored pile of inedible mush. 

“Oh, yeah, man.” Kirishima forced a smile onto his face. “I’m good. Just tired.” 

Kaminari wasn’t buying it. “You went to bed before ten last night. What reason do you have to be tired?”

Kirishima tried to shrug in a non-committal way. He couldn’t tell Kaminari about the swim lessons – not that it mattered anyways, since he had probably ensured they would not be happening again. Idiot. “Went on a run this morning pretty early.”

“Yeah, you do that all the time when we’re on campus, and you don’t look like the incarnation of death after. The incredible Red Riot has endless energy.” The blonde nudged him playfully. “Seriously though, you’re a bad liar. What’s up?”

“Nothing, dude. Promise.” Kirishima said firmly. “I’m good. See?” He scooped out a spoonful of what was now essentially gruel and made a show of taking a bite. His stomach protested.

Everything was wrong because he had done his damn best to make sure it was. He just couldn’t help himself – he couldn’t keep his hands off Bakugou. He thought the morning had gone so well. Bakugou had wanted to go running with him, he had plucked him out of the water like some kind of lifeguard Adonis and Kirishima just couldn’t help it. He was so hyped up, so full of excited energy from being around the love of his pathetic life that he just had to touch him. He had to make sure he was real.

And he had ruined everything. Bakugou was disgusted with him. He would never want to see him again.

“Whatever you say, Kiri.” Kaminari shook his head. “Your shadow isn’t with you today.” 

“My shadow? Who?” Kirishima was hardly listening, too busy replaying all the things that had just gone wrong on a torturous replay. He just got too eager. He was picking up on hints that weren’t there. Why would Bakugou like men – particularly Kirishima?. “Mina?”

Kaminari laughed. “I guess her too, but I was talking about Blasty. It’s a lot more peaceful without him constantly insulting me but he seems to keep you bright.”

“Oh, Bakugou isn’t my shadow.” Kirishima protested weakly. “I have no idea where he is.” 

“Really?” Kaminari raised an eyebrow. “You two are practically attached at the hip. Trouble in paradise?” 

“What?” Kirishima laughed nervously. It came out higher pitched than he wanted it to. “That’s dumb, man. It’s not like that.” 

“Like what?” Kaminari was smirking. “I didn’t say it was like anything.” 

Kirishima felt his heart thump heavily. “N-nothing!” He gasped, flustered. “I just meant he’s not my shadow!”

“Alright, alright.” Kaminari said soothingly. “I’m messing with you, but hey, you can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘course I do.” Kirishima muttered, turning his head so Kaminari wouldn’t see the obvious blush in his cheeks. The fact that Kaminari was zeroing in on his friendship with Bakugou and not asking him a million invasive and inappropriate questions about his relationship with Mina was concerning. Kaminari never passed up an opportunity to talk about sex – he was second only to Mineta in perviness, and since he had experience with Mina personally, Kirishima knew he usually would be eager to compare and contrast with him. He had witnessed that discussion with Sero, and it had been a very strange experience. But Kaminari didn’t seem at all interested.  

“Good man.” Kaminari smiled. Then, blessedly, he changed the subject. “So, level with me here, my dude. Do you think I actually have a chance with Uraraka? I think she’s into me, right?”

Kirishima considered it. He was always honest with Kaminari about these types of things – he had been the one to tell him that he didn’t think Jirou was interested (an observation that Kaminari decided to completely ignore) and he was the one who always warned him when his advances for hindering on harassment. With Uraraka, he expected it to be no different, but he found himself actually…having faith in Kaminari. At first, he had encouraged him simply to get Uraraka away from Bakugou, but now, even though he had probably ruined any chance he had with Bakugou forever, he still wanted to help Kaminari out with her.

“She’s definitely into you.” Kirishima said honestly.

“Yeah?” Kaminari grinned, elated. “She’s so cool. You know, I think I actually like her. Like when I imagine having sex with her, that’s awesome, but I also think about, like, going on dates.”

Kirishima laughed. Kaminari had unintentionally dragged him out of his slump, forcing him to smile at his antics. “Proud of you, buddy.”

“What are we proud of, Denks? Did you learn how to read?” They were joined on the balcony by a pajama-clad Mina. She gave Kirishima a sleepy smile.

“Ha-ha.” Kaminari laughed dryly. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who used her math homework as a makeup wipe when you ran out.”

“Bold, Denki. Bold.” Mina swatted at the air in his direction like he was a fly. “Hey, Ei, there’s a bug in my room, can you come kill it?”

Kaminari snorted and rolled his eyes. “Can’t kill your own bugs, Mina?”

“Can’t mind your own business, Denki?”

Kirishima’s nerves spiked, wishing he could communicate to Kaminari that he didn’t want to be alone with Mina. Being alone with Mina could mean one thing and one thing only and that thing was dangerous. “Oh, maybe Tsu – ”

But before Kirishima could finish his sentence, Mina was pulling his hand and they were walking through the sliding glass door. Kaminari protested from behind them about being left alone, but Mina ignored it.

 It was quiet as they walked through the hallway– it was early enough that most people would still be asleep. It had been a miracle that Kaminari had been awake, and even more so that Mina was, but now Kirishima was grateful for it. He didn’t want anyone to see him being yanked around by Mina – didn’t want them to whisper about it, tease him about it. He didn’t want it to get back to Bakugou, even though Kirishima was sure he wouldn’t care.

Of course, because fate was cruel to him on this trip, and in life in general, there was one more person who was awake and happened to be passing by on his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Lord Explosion!” Mina sang. Kirishima dared to look at Bakugou’s face, only to find his eyes taking in Kirishima and Mina’s interlocked hands. He grunted something unintelligible and pushed past them, not bothering to reply to Mina’s greeting. “Always so grouchy.” Mina grumbled after him, but since she was on a mission, she just shook her head, letting her curls bounce, before opening her door and slipping in, Kirishima on her heels.

“Where’s Hagakure?” Kirishima asked, holding onto hope that the girl was somewhere out of view – it wouldn’t be unlikely for her – so that he wouldn’t be alone.

“Oh, she woke up early. Said something about Ojiro.” Mina giggled. “Wow, where’s that bug?” She hummed. “I can’t find it. Maybe he got out on his own.”

“I guess I should be going then – ”

“Wait, not yet! I brought four bikinis on this trip and I don’t know which one to wear today. Can I model them for you and you’ll give me your opinion?”

“You know I have terrible fashion taste, Mina.” Kirishima protested weakly. “I wear crocs.”

Mina shrugged. “I like the crocs, and your fashion sense is only terrible when it comes to your own outfits. You’ve never steered me wrong before.”

Kirishima knew that was true. This wouldn’t be the first time Mina had dragged him into her room for a fashion show – he had loved critiquing her outfits and they always ended up rolling on the floor with laughter as Mina would strut out in increasingly ridiculous fashion faux pas.

He longed for those days now. Mina was one of his best friends. They had sleepovers, spent long nights on the phone, had a Snapchat streak that was over a year in duration, and told each other everything. Now he couldn’t stand to be in the same room alone with her.

“I don’t know, Mina. I should probably leave that to someone like Hagakure or Uraraka.”

“Why are you always in a rush to get away?” Mina frowned. “You lying about liking me or something?” Her tone was teasing, but Kirishima could hear the insecurity laced in it, and it broke his heart. He was doing this to her – he was making her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

“No! No, that’s ridiculous!” He choked out. “I’m just…nervous.” He finished lamely. “I’m sorry. I’ve never – I’ve never…” He was going to say he had never had a girlfriend, but he couldn’t force the words from his throat. If he said the phrase, then he would be giving credibility to this lie. He would be continuing to give Mina hope. He should just tell her the truth. He could tell her, right now. He could be honest. It would be the manly thing to do.

But Kirishima was no man, because he shut his mouth into a tight line and gave Mina a shaky smile. “I’m sorry, Mina. This is new for me.”

“You’re always so confident, Ei.” Mina pursed her lips. “Seeing you like this is cute, but you don’t need to be nervous around me, okay? No matter what, you’re my number one and I love you.”

She wouldn’t say no matter what if she knew the truth. Kirishima’s mind consistently reminded him of how terrible of a person he was. He wished he could just not think – maybe he’d ask Kaminari to shock him into stupidity. Did it work like that?

“I’m not confident.” Kirishima mumbled. Mina moved so that she was right in front of him, then she slowly wrapped her arms around his abdomen.

“Sorry if I’ve been coming on too strong. You know me.” She let out a sheepish chuckle, and Kirishima realized she was just as nervous as he was. “It’s just, Ei, you’re different than the others, okay? I’ve liked you for a long time, but you’ve always seemed so – so unattainable. When I planned to confess to you, I was terrified. I prepared myself for rejection, so when you said yes, well – I’ve gotten carried away. I’ll chill out. I just like you so much.”

Kirishima’s mouth felt dry. He couldn’t formulate the right words to say to her, couldn’t stammer out another lie. He simply shook his head, and tried to fight the moisture gathering in his eyes. Mina tilted her head to look at him, then carefully raised her hands so they were resting on his face.

“I’m sorry.” Kirishima whispered. For everything.

“Hey. It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” She cooed. She stretched to her tip-toes, then pressed a quick kiss to Kirishima’s nose. She held eye contact, seeing into his soul. He didn’t like when she looked at him like that – he was afraid she would see so far that she would read his mind, revealing the truth.

But this time she didn’t. This time, Mina let her eyes fall to his lips, then she kissed him, light as air and Kirishima let his eyes flutter shut so that the tears wouldn’t spill over down his cheeks.

-x-

“Oi, Round Face.” Bakugou hissed discretely at Uraraka from the living room before she had a chance to leave for the beach. He had been loitering around like a creep waiting for her to come out of her room rather than risk Asui lingering and listening in if he knocked on their door. “I need to talk to you.”

“Walk with me and talk with me.” She said cheerfully, skipping over to him and linking their arms. What the hell did she have to be so happy about? 

“I don’t wanna go to the beach.” He complained, yanking against her arm, but the girl had an iron grip. It was impressive for someone her size. 

“I don’t remember asking!” She sang, pulling him with her down the hall and towards the front door. She called to Asui that she would catch up with her later, and then turned back to Bakugou. “What’s up?” 

Bakugo squinted at the sudden sunlight in his eyes. “Can’t believe you’re making me go outside in this shit.”

“Katsuki, we’re at the beach. If you wanted to sit in your room, you should’ve stayed home!” Uraraka protested. She kicked sand at his legs. 

“You’re fuckin’ right, I should have.” He grumbled. Staying home would’ve been much better than the fucked-up situation he was experiencing at this godforsaken beach.

“What’s wrong, grumpy?” She frowned at him. “You still upset from yesterday?”

“No.” Bakugou said simply, and it was true. He was upset for a whole fucking new set of reasons, but they all still involved stupid, shitty Kirishima.

“You ready to talk about it yet? I saw Eijirou this morning, and he looked pretty upset. Thought about talking to him – ”

“You better knock it off.” Bakugou cut her off with the threat, narrowing his eyes. “I got enough to deal with without you getting involved in shit.” 

“I am completely innocent in this whole situation. I am simply doing my duty as your best friend in trying to make you happy.” She bumped into him. They had caught up with the rest of their classmates now, who were all in various stages of lounging on the beach. He spied Kirishima easily. He was sitting next to Kaminari on a towel, looking dejected and radiating so much anxiety that Bakugou could feel it from all the way across the beach. A small pang of guilt nestled itself in his chest, until he saw Ashido run up behind him and wrap her arms around his neck, nuzzling him.

 “C’mon.” Bakugou pulled his arm out of Uraraka’s grip and took her hand. “Somewhere away from everyone else.” He glanced back at Kirishima and Kaminari once more before dragging her away, both of them had matching sad looks on their face. Bakugou didn’t know what had gotten into the blonde idiot, but he could only hope Uraraka had wised up and rejected him. 

Once they were far enough that none of their dumb friends would bother them, Bakugou pulled Uraraka down onto the ground and took a deep breath before he looked her in the eyes. “I need you to set me up with one of your girl friends.”

Uraraka blinked at him. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She hummed thoughtfully.

“What? You gonna fuckin’ say anything?” He didn’t like her lack of response. It was unnerving.

“I just…” She trailed off. She shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just surprised you care about that stuff, after-all.” She said matter-of-factly, but her cheeks turned pinker than usual. 

He felt his body tense up and an apology formed on his lips, but Uraraka had told him not to apologize anymore. “Well, it’s been awhile. I decided I am.” He forced his voice to come out strong and convincing but it wavered, and Uraraka definitely caught it.

She humored him anyway. “Well. I don’t know your type?” She said. “Angry? Violent? Personification of sunshine?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes to the sky. Every time he tried to have a serious discussion with Uraraka, five years were scraped off his life. He was going to be dead before he graduated. 

“No.” He snorted. “I…I don’t have a type.” He lied. He liked hard muscles, and calloused hands, and adorable redheads, but that was the exact fucking problem he was trying to remedy. “Just anyone, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Uraraka’s head. Her lips curled into a smirk. An evil smirk. He didn’t like it.

“What? What the fuck is that face?” He demanded. 

“I have the perfect girl for you.” She said, patting his knee aggressively. Everything she did was so damn aggressive. It was no surprise that dumb nerd Deku couldn’t handle her. 

“Who?”

“You’ll see!” She was way too happy. 

“Right…” He grunted. “Putting my trust into your hands now.”

“My hands are capable of incredible things.”

Bakugou simply rolled his eyes. “Oi, also, Round Face, you reject the blonde moron yet?”

Incredibly, a blush crept into her cheeks. “Kaminari?!” She cried. “Reject? Oh…no, I don’t think he likes me like that. We’re friends, yeah?” She was stammering, but there was a smile on her face.

“Oi, what the hell are you smiling about?! He’s a moron!” 

Uraraka giggled, suddenly appearing to be floating without activating her quirk. “Come on, Katsuki, let’s get back to the others!” She grabbed his hand once more, and skipped back towards their classmates, shining with joy. 

He should’ve kept his damn mouth shut.

To her credit, Uraraka worked fast. He turned on his heel once she ran off from him, and was halfway back to the house when Uraraka was screaming at him in that shrill and demanding voice of hers: “Katsuki! Katsuki!”

She was waving both her hands in the air, jumping up and down like a damn cheerleader, and next to her, laughing softly was Jirou.

Oh, shit. So, that was who Uraraka had in mind for him. It made sense. Most of the other girls in the class were taken, and he couldn’t wait for her to find someone back at school. He sized up Jirou in her bathing suit – she was the least feminine of all the girls in 2A, but that wasn’t an insulting thing. Her body wasn’t curvy like the other girls in the class, but for Bakugou, that was  a good thing. Maybe he didn’t dislike girls – maybe he just disliked curves. That made sense. He didn’t like Kirishima – he just liked that he was hard where most girls were soft. Logical.

Uraraka was a damn genius.

He approached the two girls. “Hey.” He addressed Jirou. She smiled at him.

“Hey.”

They spent the rest of the day together – Uraraka accompanied them for awhile, joining them in the waves and then roping them into a game of two-on-one volleyball (which Bakugou still won, even though he was the one), but sometime in the afternoon, she wandered away to Kaminari and never looked back. Bakugou would’ve been annoyed, but he was on a mission.

Jirou seemed content to hang out with him – relieved, almost. She threw a few furtive glances in the direction of Iida and Momo, who were stretched out on the beach reading the same book – vomit – but mostly kept engaged with whatever it was they were doing. They raced, threw themselves into the waves and Jirou even talked him into building a sandcastle – on the stipulation that he was allowed to blow it up afterwards.

He found he was actually having a good time. He knew Jirou was fucking cool, so why shouldn’t he be able to be attracted to her? He wasn’t drooling over her, but he wasn’t repulsed by her. He could do this. He hadn’t even thought of Kirishima the whole time.

That was, until he heard a familiar shriek of laughter, and turned to see Mina on Kirishima’s back. The redhead was smiling at her – really smiling – and trying to buck her off like some stupid horse. It was fucking cute.

He suddenly had a burning desire to get away from the beach, but he couldn’t forget his reason, why he had come to Uraraka in the first place. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?” He said to Jirou. He had heard that line in a movie somewhere, and it had seemed to work then. Jirou was watching Momo again, a baleful look in her eyes as she took in the other girl giggling at something Iida said. Bakugou couldn’t imagine what – that nerd was the least funny person he knew, but whatever. Jirou seemed keen on the idea of leaving because she nodded quickly and when Bakugou tentatively reached out his hand, she took it.

They ended up in Bakugou’s room. He sat down on the edge of his bed and wiped his increasingly sweaty palms on his swim trunks. Bakugou didn’t get nervous about anything – being nervous was for fucking nerds and extras – but right now, he was slightly unsettled. Jirou seemed to be matching his energy. She kept staring down into her lap and shooting cursory looks at Bakugou. The tension in the room was thick, but Bakugou focused on keeping his mind clear of any type of feeling.

“I – ”

Bakugou didn’t let her finish. He kissed her before he could think anything of it. Act now, think later – that was the hero motto, right? Jirou squeaked in surprise, but then she settled into the kiss, moving her lips slowly against him. It was warm, wet and a little bit stiff. Sparks didn’t fly, fireworks didn’t explode, and Bakugou’s heart stayed beating at the steady pace it always did, but it wasn’t horrible. He could work with this.

He increased the movement of his lips and placed his hands on Jirou’s thighs, like he had seen in the few videos he had managed to watch. Jirou responded awkwardly, but enthusiastically, shifting so that she was practically in his lap. Everything was robotic. Methodological. He bit down on her lip, because he remembered that was something girls were supposed to like, but he did it too hard and she yelped. Bakugou couldn’t pay attention to that, or he would lose his groove. His hands would straight to shake. He would realize that he didn’t like this, and he wouldn’t be able to keep up his act. So he continued, kissing her exactly as one was supposed to kiss in this situation. Jirou relaxed again, kissing him back and feeling him out.

Bakugou knew the next step in this situation was to undress each other. He felt nothing, but he knew rules. Following rules was something he was good at; it was why he was going to be a top hero, because he was fucking smart and knew how things worked. He pulled his own shirt off in a swift movement, discarding it in a bundle on the floor – not like how he usually would, maybe he was picking up habits from Kirishima.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be thinking of Kirishima. How he would rather be pressed against Kirishima. How he would rather taste Kirishima’s lips, feel his muscular torso, breathe out his name.

“Bakugou.”

He could run his hands off Kirishima’s biceps. He imagined the noises he would make as Bakugou touched him.

“Bakugou.”

He wondered if Kirishima would be shy, or would he be eager? Bakugou wouldn’t push him – he would take it slow with him, he would savor him.

“Bakugou!”

Fuck. Jirou had pulled away and was staring at him with a shit-eating grin on her face. She started to laugh, then couldn’t seem to stop. It was a real belly-laugh, bordering on goddamn hysterical, and Bakugou glared, his face reddening. Had he said something out loud? What the fuck was she laughing at?

“You know, when Uraraka told me you were interested in me, I was surprised, but I know now what she was trying to do.” She said, pausing to take a deep breath. “She’s such an asshole.”

“I don’t disagree, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Bakugou was confused. He had been doing everything right – he even managed to get himself halfway aroused by fantasizing about Kirishima.

“You’re just…you’re being so…so proper. It’s like you read a book on how to make out.” She laughed. “You’re not enjoying it at all, and I should take offense to that, but I know it has nothing to do with how I kiss and everything to do with who I am.”

Pretty fucking close, but she wasn’t supposed to know that. He grimaced.

“Uraraka – you, phew, okay.” She almost dissolved back into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, it’s just funny now that I realize.” She paused, then looked directly into his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Listen. Bakugou. I’ve been having a really hard time lately, with who I am, and more particularly, who I like. I’ve never told Uraraka that, but now I’m thinking it must be pretty damn obvious.” She sighed. “Does that sound kinda familiar to you?”

Yeah, pretty fucking familiar, he thought. “What are you talking about?” He said instead.

“Ah, Bakugou. I think – no, I don’t think, I know that I’m gay. I’ve thought so for awhile, and I’m – I don’t know why I’m telling you this – I’ve been crushing on Yaomomo for so long but I’ve been trying to convince myself that it’s just admiration. That I don’t like girls. I think…I think trying to be with you just convinced me I was.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Fuck. I’m that bad, huh?” It made sense though. The pining looks, the sadness on the bench in the town, the constant third-wheeling the nerds. Bakugou had thought she was just upset at the thought of losing her friend, but now he knew that he had been stupid. It was obvious. There was no chemistry between him and Jirou because neither of them was the gender they desired.

Jirou smacked his arm lightly. “You’re…practically a god body-wise, Bakugou. Which is why now I know for sure. I do not like men.” She frowned and Bakugou shrugged. He appreciated the compliment. “I think Uraraka must’ve known that, and I think she knows something about you too. I may not like men, but you do, don’t you? Specifically, Kirishima?”

Bakugou closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere else and for the first time in his life - anyone else. “Fuckin’ – I – yeah. Yeah. I do. Fuckin’ crazy about him.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew there would be no more denying it. Bakugou couldn’t force himself to be someone he clearly fucking wasn’t. Saying it out loud was cathartic, and he felt as if a twelve-ton weight had just been lifted off of his chest. He liked Kirishima. Romantically. He wanted to be with Kirishima. That was who he was, that was what he wanted. What was the point of lying anymore?

“I thought so. You look at him like he’s the sun.” She said softly.

“Because he fucking is.”

Jirou smiled. “That’s how I feel about Yaomomo, but she loves Iida.”

“Tch. She’s an idiot if she’s choosing that four-eyed nerd over you.” He said off-handedly. “Imagine having to hook up with him.”

Jirou cringed and giggled, waving the thought away. “I can’t! But he’s smart and dignified like Yaomomo. She deserves someone like that. I’ll never be good enough for her, even if she did decide to come play for the other team.”

  “I know what you mean.” Bakugou grumbled, thinking of the way Kirishima had smiled with Mina. He deserved someone like that damn alien – someone happy, someone fun, someone not-Bakugou.  

Jirou laid back against Bakugou’s pillow. She wore nothing but her bikini and Bakugou remained half-undressed as well, but he figured it didn’t matter now that their secrets were out.

“Fuck, Uraraka is an asshole.” He said. “I can’t believe she set this up on purpose.”

“She put together two gays to make us realize that we were lying to ourselves.” Jirou said with another laugh for good measure. “An evil genius really.”

“Fuckin’ brat.” Bakugou muttered. He sighed and laid next to Jirou and stared at the ceiling. “This shit sucks.”

“I feel your pain, bro.” Jirou said, rubbing his arm for comfort. “Unrequited love does indeed suck.”  

They stayed like that, quiet, staring up at nothing. Bakugou could feel Jirou’s emotions – her hurt, her relief, her resentment. They swirled around the room like a hurricane, and Bakugou felt them. He felt them with every fiber of his being, and he added his own into the mix – all his hatred for who he was, all his fury over seeing Kirishima with Mina, all the goddamn affection he had for that shitty-haired idiot. He let it all out, giving it to Jirou, and taking her pain in return. And together they stayed like that, being the selves that they could only be when no one else was around.

Chapter Text

Bakugou stayed there with Jirou until night fell, talking about whatever came to mind, but mostly Jirou was sticking her nose in Bakugou’s business. She didn’t seem on board with Bakugou’s idea to blast the four-eyed nerd out of the way with your heartbeat and sweep Momo off her feet and so Bakugou didn’t know where she got off giving him advice.

“You aren’t listening to me.” Jirou insisted. “With Yaomomo, there’s no chance. Never in a million years would she be interested in me, but Kiri – Kiri is so in love with you it’s disgusting.”

Bakugou scoffed. “I know you’ve been a damn recluse for most of this semester, but Kirishima is fucking the alien freak these days.”

“I’m not a recluse by choice.” Jirou murmured, and Bakugou felt a small pang of guilt hit his chest. Fuckin’ Pikachu, making Jirou feel like shit when she had enough going on just because he couldn’t handle a little shot to his ego.

He said as much. “Fuck Pikachu. He’s an idiot. I’ll kill him, if you want.”

Jirou gave him an incredulous smile. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

“You sure?” Bakugou had been looking for an excuse to knock that bastard on his ass since he met him, and training exercises weren’t doing it anymore.

“He’s my friend – well, I guess he doesn’t consider us friends anymore, but I still care about him.” Jirou said sadly. “He means a lot to me. I wish it didn’t have to end the way it did.”

Bakugou let out a long-suffering sigh. Why people wanted to be friends with an idiot so badly, he didn’t know, but if he kept Jirou talking about this, she would leave him alone about Kirishima.

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re gay?” Bakugou suggested. “That would make him feel like an asshole.” The idea filled him with joy.

“That would be effectively telling the whole school, and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

Bakugou grunted in agreement. He respected that. He wouldn’t be telling anyone other than Jirou about his attraction to men either. He couldn’t imagine what people would say – the smug looks on their faces. They would use it against him forever. It would hurt his chance of becoming number one. Bakugou had never even heard of a gay pro hero – maybe it was because they never made it to the top.

He shook the unpleasant thought out of his head. It’s not like it mattered. He wanted Kirishima, and Kirishima wanted girls. He didn’t want anyone else, so he would just bury the feelings deep inside of him. He didn’t have time for romance anyway; he had too much ass to kick.

“Oh, also, Kirishima is faking it.”

“Hah? Faking what?”

“He’s not into Mina. She’s his cover up so that people don’t figure out he’s gay.” Jirou said. “It’s pretty obvious to me, but I have an eye for these things.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. Why would he – ” But he stopped himself, because he knew why – the same reason Bakugou wouldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want the reactions.

Fuck. Could that be true? He didn’t want to get his stupid hopes up. Fuckin’ Jirou. She had to open her mouth. He would’ve rather continued talking about the electric idiot.

“Ah, see, you’re realizing it makes sense.” She teased.

“Shut up.” He groaned. “Even if he is faking, I’m not going to play fuckin’ homewrecker.”

“I’m not suggesting that!” Jirou held her hands up in protest. “But, maybe, like, talk to Kirishima. Feel things out. Get him to talk about his feelings.”

Bakugou gave her a dry look. “Do I look like the type to fuckin’ talk about feelings?”

Jirou groaned. “C’mon. Do this for me, so I can live vicariously through you. One of us should have a happy ending.”

Bakugou frowned. “I don’t think he even wants to talk to me. I kinda…freaked the fuck out on him this morning.”

“Why?”

He screwed up his face in displeasure. “He…he fuckin’ touched me, and I – fuck, I – ”

“Oh my God. You got a boner.”

“Shut up, shut up!” Bakugou’s ears burned. “Fuck you.” 

“That’s hilarious.” Jirou chuckled. “I’m so glad I’m not a guy. That sucks. Well, say you’re sorry for yelling at him. You probably scared the hell out of the poor dude.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Saying sorry was not something he wanted to do, but he did want to stop avoiding Kirishima. Hanging out with Jirou wasn’t horrible, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a strange sort of loneliness without Kirishima. And he couldn’t ignore Jirou’s words – they made sense, in a fucked-up way.

“Shit, what time is it?” He realized that Kirishima hadn’t come back to their room yet – that in itself wasn’t totally unusual. There was a high chance he was with the alien freak, but soon it would be time for their swim lesson. He wondered if Kirishima would still show up.

Of course he would. It was Kirishima. “I’ve gotta be somewhere.” He explained to Jirou. Her lips curled into a soft smile. She didn’t ask any questions, but she thanked him.

“For letting me by myself. For being my friend.” She said.

“Don’t get fucking sappy on me, Ears.” He groaned. “Any fucking time.”

When Jirou wrapped her arms around him, he didn’t protest. In fact, he might have even hugged her back.

-x-

Bakugou had made a pact with himself to act like a fucking normal human being tonight, no matter what bullshit advice Jirou had for him. Just because he had some kind of major life revelation didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. He wouldn’t get touchy. He wouldn’t blow up. He would simply do his part to help Kirishima learn to swim because he said he would and he was not the type to go back on his damn word. He was sure he could get over his…crush, or whatever the fuck it was, at some point, but losing Kirishima as a friend would not be ideal.

As he sat by the pool, kicking his feet into the water and sending water spraying all over the place, he felt something he hated feeling: nervous. Kirishima might not show up. Bakugou wouldn’t have blamed him, after he exploded on him that morning.

But of course, because Kirishima was Kirishima, and he was a good fucking person, he showed up, waving to Bakugou shyly.

Stupid cute Kirishima.

“Hey, man.” The redhead grinned at him and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Glad you’re here.”

Kirishima always sounded relieved when Bakugou showed up, as if he had ever not kept his word a day in his life.

“Get in the pool, Shitty Hair.”  

“Right.” Kirishima said, and he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the side. Bakugou groaned internally. Before his talk with Jirou, he had made every excuse for his attraction to Kirishima. It was admiration, it was irritation because he was slightly more built than Bakugou, it was all in his head – but with Kirishima standing in front of him like that, there was no denying it. It was physical fucking attraction.

Kirishima jumped into the water and Bakugou was saved from his thoughts by focusing on techniques. He had improved a lot in just a few days, but he wasn’t surprised – it was Kirishima, and he operated on sheer willpower and determination. After about half an hour, Bakugou declared that if Kirishima wanted to get in the ocean again, he probably wouldn’t drown, but he still needed to practice treading. Bakugou was little more than a lifeguard at this point.

“Cool!” Kirishima beamed, then he pushed the hair out of his face and gave Bakugou a sheepish look. Bakugou wished he could be the one with his hands in Kirishima’s hair. “Hey, dude, about earlier…”

Bakugou scowled, snapping out of his fantasy. “Fucking save it, Shitty Hair.” He growled before Kirishima could launch into a long-winded apology that was sure to make him feel terrible. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I just didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Kirishima insisted, as if Bakugou hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m just like that, you know…with everyone.” His face turned red and he stared down in shame.

Bakugou scoffed. “I won’t tell your fucking girlfriend. Jesus.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened. “That’s not why – ”

“Save your breath for the damn water. Go again.” He pointed to the end of the pool, and Kirishima looked like he wanted to say more, but instead let his face solidify into an emotionless mask as he kicked off the side of the pool.

When Kirishima had completed several laps, he emerged like some kind of damn mermaid or something and pushed himself out of the water, his arms rippling with the effort.

Bakugou was getting ready to flee the scene when Kirishima blinded him with a smile that lit up the entire dark pool. “Thank you so much for teaching me, man! So lucky to have you.”

And Bakugou swore his damn heart leapt into his throat. He excused himself with a string of muttered profanities, hiding his face so that Kirishima couldn’t see the stupid blush that was creeping into his cheeks.

-x-

Once Kirishima had gotten out of the pool, dried off and made it back to his shared room with Bakugou, he found the blonde already fast asleep, snuggled under the blankets with just the tip of his spiky hair poking out.

Kirishima smiled. Tonight had been a good night – he could almost forget about the situation he was in. He fell into a more peaceful sleep than he had in a long while.

When he woke up with a start, some hours later, his first instinct was that he was late – he had slept through his alarm again and Aizawa was going to kill him because after two years he should really have a consistent sleep schedule by now.

But when he blinked his surroundings into view, he remembered that he was not in fact late, but in his room at their beach house, and he sighed a breath of relief. He fumbled for his phone and blinded himself momentarily checking the time – 2:02 AM. He blinked. Huh. He usually slept quite literally like a rock unless some sort of monumental outside force woke up him up.

He began to shuffle in his bed, to look at the boy who slept in the bed next to him. There was something comforting about knowing he slept in the same room as him, peacefully, quietly –  

The room lit up with a white-hot heat and Kirishima jolted in his bed.  

“Ah, shit.” He hissed to himself, and then he was springing into action. He had experienced this before – but always as a spectator, someone on the other side of the wall – he had never been in the actual room when Bakugou exploded. It wasn’t something Bakugou liked to talk about either – they both acknowledged that it happened once before, but that was all it would get, an acknowledgment.

A strangled and pained cry came from the blonde’s side of the room and Kirishima felt his heart wrench in his chest. Bakugou was suffering. He needed to help. His bed wasn’t a far walk – they were only separated by one small nightstand, a fact that Kirishima often dwelled on, but not right now. Now, he was on a mission.

“Bakugou.” He whispered urgently, shaking his friend by the shoulders gently, doing his best not to startle him. He prepared himself to activate his quirk quickly in case he took an explosion to the face, but none came. Instead, Bakugou swung his arm out at Kirishima, but he was able to dodge it and grab him by the wrist. The other boy was shaking, his hands heating up, thrashing in his sleep. “Hey!” He called, louder now. “It’s okay, it’s okay! Bakugou!”

Bakugou’s eyes shot open then. His skin was slick with sweat, and his chest was heaving. He blinked at Kirishima in wonder, then around the room, then visibly relaxed before screwing his face into a scowl.

“Why are you in my fucking face, Shitty Hair?” He grumbled, but his voice was raspy and weak. He needed a glass of water – Kirishima idly thought that he could manage to be quiet enough to grab one from the kitchen without anybody noticing, if he asked for it.

“You were having a nightmare.” Kirishima explained softly. He still held onto Bakugou’s wrist. The blonde did nothing to remove it, choosing to simply stare at Kirishima as his chest rose and fell slower with each breath. It made it hard for Kirishima to breathe himself, if he were being honest, but he knew when he had nightmares, he wanted contact – someone to reach out for, to grasp onto, to let him know that he was awake and that he was okay. He would be that for Bakugou. He would keep his cool for his friend.

“I wasn’t…” Bakugou tried, but he looked at his sheets, which were smoking, and he sighed. “Fuckin’ stupid. I haven’t had one in a while so I thought they…” He glared down into his lap, the frustration evident in his expression, speaking the things that he could not articulate aloud.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kirishima prompted. He could feel the heat on Bakugou’s wrist. If he just slid his hand down slightly, he could be holding his hand. Would Bakugou want that? Would he shy away? Blow him up?

He opted not to take the risk.

“No, go to bed.” Bakugou grumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re not.” Kirishima stated, cocking his head to the side. “You almost blew up your bed, which, I’m sure with that quirk, it happens, but you probably should try to avoid it when we’re in a vacation home.” He tried to lighten the mood with teasing, but guilt flooded Bakugou’s face.

“What am I supposed to fucking do? It’s not like I can control it.” He snapped, then he let out a long-suffering sigh, and snatched his arm back from Kirishima. The missing warmth caused Kirishima to feel as if he had plunged into cold water. Bakugou seemed to notice his displeasure, and maybe by way of a peace offering, moved over just so that there was room for Kirishima to perch himself on the bed. He did, being careful to leave space so their bodies wouldn’t touch.

“What happened?” Kirishima prompted, stopping himself from leaning into the blonde’s personal bubble.

“Fucking gonna make me relive it, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou’s voice broke, and they both pretended not to notice it. Kirishima wilted. He was being insensitive, he knew. Talking about things always helped him, but him and Bakugou were about as opposite as you could get.

“No, man, I’m sorry, I just – is there anything I can do?” He asked hopefully, desperately. He had to do something. He couldn’t just leave him to suffer. It hurt.

“You can shut the fuck up and go back to sleep. I don’t need your help.” Bakugou said dryly, and his voice had a finality to it that Kirishima knew it was best not to argue.

So, he said: “Okay,” and moved back to his own side of the room. They laid in silence after that. Kirishima was hyper-aware that Bakugou was awake. His breathing was labored, slow, as if he was purposely taking giant gulps of air to calm himself down enough to fall back asleep, as if he was convincing himself that he was still alive. Kirishima’s eyes refused to shut, so he stared at the ceiling, thinking about all the things he should’ve said, the comfort he should’ve offered, the warmth he could’ve provided. He was a coward, and that was why Bakugou would always be out of his reach. So close that he could touch him, but far away in the sense that his touch could never reach him, not really. He was a coward who was living a double life, who let his friend suffer while he was unable to do anything.

He was useless to him here. Bakugou would benefit from someone else – someone like Jirou - he noticed they had been spending more time together lately. He needed someone who could climb into bed with him and offer him the soothing presence that he needed. She could provide what Kirishima couldn’t, and that was something he would have to come to terms with. Bakugou would stroke her hair, and press her against his chest, and they would fall asleep embracing each other.

Maybe it was really time to give up on his crush. Maybe he could keep trying with Mina.

The thought of it felt like a knife through his heart. He didn’t want anyone else. He never had. He knew that.

He probably wasn’t meant to have happiness. Happiness was given to those who earned it and he hadn’t done anything so far to warrant it at all. He was a sub-par hero, an average student – not someone that anyone would be particularly proud of. He hadn’t done anything of significance. Even when he had been selected to be a part of an elaborate rescue mission his first year – he had been so thrilled to be included, to be thought worthy – he hadn’t managed to succeed. He had been taken out by a villain and then held up his mentor Fatgum when he had been desperately needed in the battle. He was useless.

Not to mention the vault of secrets he kept away from everyone – letting them think that he was interested in soft curves, long eyelashes, made-up faces and high-pitched voices. He couldn’t even be truthful about who he was. He was hurting Mina every second that he kept up his charade. He was a poor excuse for a human being, much less a hero.

He shoved his pillow into his face. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight; he could feel it.

“Kirishima.”

It was such a small voice, that Kirishima wasn’t sure if he really heard it, or if his subconscious was just continuing to torment him. It sounded like a plea, and certainly nothing resembling that could ever come out of Bakugou’s brash, rough mouth. Bakugou hardly even called him by his name.

He waited, holding his breath, for proof that he wasn’t hearing things, and after a moment, it came.

“Kirishima.” This time it was a little louder, a little more confident. He definitely heard it. He wasn’t crazy.

“Yeah?” He breathed.

Bakugou was quiet. Then: “I can’t fucking fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, me either.” Kirishima agreed.

“Obviously.” Bakugou snorted, and Kirishima smiled to himself. It took so little for all of the convincing himself he had just done to unravel. How could he ever stop loving Bakugou?

“Yeah, obviously.” Kirishima whispered. “It’s 3 AM.”

Bakugou didn’t respond, and Kirishima listened for his breathing to see if it evened out at all. It was less ragged, but it wasn’t the deep and calm breathing that was associated with sleep. Kirishima spoke up, unable to take the silence when they both knew the other was awake. “You want me to…come over there?” He closed his eyes after the words left his lips, shocked at himself for speaking them. What was he thinking? He waited for Bakugou to berate him, to cuss him out, or to blow him up, but none of it came.

“Yeah,” was what Bakugou said instead. It came out in a sigh and Kirishima’s heart hammered out of his chest. He hadn’t been rejected.

 But now, panic filled his chest with the implications of the offer he had just made. He had to go over to Bakugou’s bed. What would he do? Stand there? Sit? Lay down? The thought made his skin break into goosebumps. Would he be able to comfort him or would he make it worse? His stomach twisted with nerves and butterflies and it was simultaneously something pleasurable and horrifying.

“Did you fall asleep that quickly?” Bakugou sounded impatient, and almost desperate. Kirishima swallowed. He had to stop projecting the emotions he wanted onto Bakugou, but it was difficult when the blonde didn’t turn him away instantly in situations like this.

“No, I’m awake!” Kirishima cried, too quickly. Keep cool, he told himself. Don’t screw this up. “Coming.”

The few feet felt like a journey when he was walking to Bakugou’s bed. The blonde was laying completely still, his arms rigid at his sides.

“Should I just, like  --“ Kirishima wasn’t sure of his next move.

“Lay down, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou grumbled, no bite behind his words.

Kirishima thought that if his heart beat any harder, it would propel out of his chest and smack Bakugou in the face. 

“I – yeah, okay.” He had to get it together if he didn’t want to mess this opportunity up – this amazing, probably once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get to lay in bed next to Katsuki Bakugou. They had had sleepovers before – but Kirishima was always on the floor, on a futon, or curled up in his desk chair when he had fallen asleep doing homework. Kirishima had laid in bed by many people before – he was a touchy guy – but Kaminari, Mina, they couldn’t compare to this.

He was going to throw up from the fluttering in his stomach. He carefully climbed into the bed, making sure there was plenty of space between him and the human bomb next to him. Once he had settled, he closed his eyes, and Bakugou spoke. “They were here, at this shitty beach. All of them. And they…they killed people.”

“Who?” Kirishima asked, although he knew the answer. Bakugou hadn’t been the same after being kidnapped by the League of Villains last year. He was less harsh, less reactive, less…confident, in a way. He was still determined to be number one – there was no letting up of that dream, but he was more subdued, less likely to take the risks he would’ve taken before the training camp.

It had broken Kirishima’s heart to see his friend in pain like that.

“You fucking know. The idiots.”

Bakugou would never call them by their name – it gave them too much power, made them a real threat.

Kirishima needed to talk, to fill the silence with reassurance, to let Bakugou know that that would never happen, because Kirishima wouldn’t let it happen. After Bakugou had been kidnapped from the training camp, Kirishima had been devastated. He had let it happen – he hadn’t been there to protect his best friend. He would never make that mistake again. He would protect Bakugou at all costs – with his own life, if he had to.

Kirishima knew all of these things deep inside himself, but he had never been good with words.

“It was just a nightmare, bro.” He said instead of everything that he so desperately needed to convey to the suffering boy lying next to him. “There’s no way they could ever attack us here. The teachers made sure of it.”

“I fucking know.” Bakugou snarled. Kirishima followed the rise and fall of his chest with his eyes. He wanted to reach out and place his hand over his heart – to feel its rapid beating, to know that this was real. “Doesn’t stop my brain from coming up with this bullshit.”

Kirishima blew air out of his nostrils. He propped himself up on an elbow, finally looking Bakugou in the eyes. The blonde wore a surprised face, and Kirishima couldn’t tell in the dark, but it looked like he was blushing. 

“Your brain will always come up with bullshit.” He began. “You just gotta learn to recognize it for what it is: bullshit.” He paused. “If I listened to everything my brain tried to tell me, I’d be too scared to do anything. I wouldn’t have applied to UA, wouldn’t have talked to you, wouldn’t have –“ 

“What, your brain was telling you not to talk to me?” Bakugou snorted. Kirishima smiled in spite of himself.

“Yeah, man. You didn’t seem like the type that wanted friends, but I figured I’d try anyways.” 

“You’re pretty relentless, Shitty Hair. Didn’t have a damn choice but to like you.” He muttered. Kirishima swallowed and his head spun at his word selection. Bakugou had said like. In their years of friendship, Bakugou had never dared to give Kirishima the idea that he actually liked him – it was more like a tolerance. Kirishima knew, of course, because Bakugou communicated his affection in ways other than words. He let Kirishima know of his fondness by dragging him to the gym, day-after-day to spar with him, by concerning himself over Kirishima’s ever-fluctuating grades, by banging on Kirishima’s door every morning to make sure he was always up in time for breakfast, and bringing him something from Lunch Rush if he wasn’t.  Kirishima knew, but hearing Bakugou say the word out loud sent an electric shock through his body. 

He could feel Bakugou tense next to him, and he realized he needed to work on his response time. “Yeah, I’m good at that.” He said off-handedly.

“Being annoying? Yeah.” Bakugou agreed. 

Kirishima smacked him as if on instinct. “Being relentless!” 

Bakugou stared at the place where Kirishima had hit him, regarding it carefully. There was a long pause. “You’re breathing heavy.” He pointed out.

Kirishima stopped breathing so quickly that it was almost comical. “Sorry, just –”

“It’s okay, Kirishima.” Bakugou’s voice was faraway, and Kirishima realized with a start that he was hardly hanging on to consciousness. He was being pulled farther away from Kirishima as his eyes drooped closed. Kirishima smiled sadly. He knew his painfully short time was up. He moved to stand, but Bakugou’s hand fell lazily onto his chest. “Stay.” He commanded. 

“Stay…here?” Kirishima was paralyzed. Bakugou did not remove his hand. 

“Mmm.” He murmured. His eyes were shut completely now, and Kirishima had no other choice but to remain where he was, held still by Bakugou’s burning hand.  

Kirishima thought he stopped breathing. It was possible that he would die from shock alone, and the fact that Bakugou was touching him in a more intimate way than he ever had before. This was more than guiding hands pushing him to learn in the water – this was more than that. This was trust. Bakugou let his guard down for nobody – except now, Kirishima was here, in his bed, comforting him, and Bakugou felt safe enough to sleep.

Well, Kirishima sure wouldn’t be sleeping. He didn’t think his brain would ever calm down enough for him to sleep. He didn’t know how long he laid there, running laps in his head, before he heard a soft shuffle next to him. Bakugou’s hand finally fell off of his chest, and Kirishima closed his eyes, imagining that this could be every day, imagining all of the things that never would be.

-x-

In the otherwise silence of the early morning, Bakugou woke up to a soft snoring. Facing away from him, and curled up like a cat again, was Kirishima, just where he had left him. He’d stayed, just like Bakugou had asked because that’s what Kirishima did. He did what people asked. He helped people.

They were disarming, the nightmares. When they came, Bakugou was left feeling broken, weakened, with dilated eyes bursting open and cold sweat soaking his hair and through shirt. Sometimes, when they were really bad, he would activate his quirk – the sheets on his bed had been burned too many times to count. The first time Bakugou approached Aizawa about a new set, the teacher had been concerned. By the fifth time, he learned not to ask. He shared his wall with Kirishima and with Todoroki, and neither of the two boys had ever made a comment on it, and for that, despite everything else about them that irritated him, Bakugou was grateful. 

He wasn’t used to feeling weak. He had never had to. When you grow up being told that you’re incredible, powerful, talented – that you have infinite potential, weakness isn’t in your vocabulary. When the unwelcome feeling threatened to overwhelm him, Bakugou fought it. He got fired up, he yelled, he punched, he let out explosion after explosion until the calluses on his hands were ready to burst open. Even if they did, he would welcome the bleeding. It would remind him of the strength that he held, the strength that a weak person would not be capable of taking advantage of.

But when they took him – when they kidnapped him right out from under UA’s nose, Bakugou knew he was weak. When he couldn’t escape their shoddy restraints, or take down a single one of them once he was released, he knew he was weak. When he saw All Might coming to rescue him – All Might sacrificing his whole career as a hero for him – he knew that he was weaker than he could have ever imagined. And now, when the nightmares came, he was reminded of his weakness, and it pained him, set his body on fire, kept his mind wide-awake and buzzing no matter what the hour was. He would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listing off all of the reasons why that he would be okay – that he would never let them get him or anyone he loved ever again.

The word love scared him when his mind presented it to him. Love. The number one hero couldn’t love anyone, because love also made him weak. If he had people he loved, that could be used against him, exploited. They would be taken away from him, and Bakugou would never forgive himself if that happened. 

But Bakugou was weak. He was so, terribly, disgustingly weak, because when he heard Kirishima’s voice, he settled. His heart beat, but his mind fell into a quiet ease. Kirishima was there. Kirishima was safety. Kirishima was an outstretched hand, an overly-friendly smile, something solid, something real that he could hold onto. Kirishima would be there, always, no matter what.

So when he offered to come sit with him on the bed, Bakugou let himself be weak. When he started to leave, Bakugou let himself be weak, and asked him to stay. When he woke up in the tiny hours of the morning, where everything that happened could still be considered a secret that the daylight would never have to know, he let himself be weak, and he draped his arms around Kirishima and pulled him close, reveling in his warmth and comfort.

Reality would come when the sun rose, but for now, for the first time, Bakugou was okay with being weak.

-x-

Kirishima woke up to an overbearing heat encapsulating him. It was like he was sitting in a fire, but in a pleasant way – more akin to that of a scalding hot shower or a sauna that had been sat in too long. Something solid was pressing into him, and by instinct, he pushed his body back against it. He was greeted with more warmth, and a sugary, tingly feeling inside of his stomach.

Something tightened around him and his eyes shot open. Kirishima looked down to his chest and barely contained the squeak that threatened to jump out of his throat.

Bakugou’s arms were wrapped around Kirishima’s torso – Kirishima’s bare torso. He hadn’t bothered to put on his shirt because he hadn’t planned on falling asleep in Bakugou’s bed. He really hadn’t expected to wake up to the blonde spooning him.

His face burned and his breath hitched. He was in Bakugou’s bed. With Bakugou’s. Arms. Around him. How did this happen? Was Bakugou just a naturally cuddly person? Maybe he was used to sleeping with a body pillow, and Kirishima just happened to be there. He needed comfort, he reminded himself, he just needed something to grab onto. Bakugou had probably done it subconsciously – not even realizing as he hugged Kirishima close to him and fell asleep with his hands against his skin. 

Kirishima shifted slightly, using all of his willpower to keep calm and not wake Bakugou – because Bakugou waking up to this would be the worst-case scenario. He would be enraged, horrified, embarrassed. The most Kirishima could hope for was Bakugou pushing him out of the bed, but it was more likely that he would be murdered if Bakugou discovered him cozied up in his arms. 

He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to twist his body around and kiss Bakugou everywhere – on his sleep-heavy eyes, his cheeks, flushed with pink, his lips…

Kirishima cut his mind off mid-thought. If he kept thinking about things, he’d be in a really, really uncomfortable situation, because yeah, he was a guy, and guys woke up with issues like these – but rarely did they wake up with issues like these while cuddling with their best friend who Kirishima was ninety-eight percent sure was straight.

He squirmed, trying to move one arm, moving slower than Fatgum after one of his trips to the buffet. Carefully, inching a little at a time, he freed himself, and scooted over to the edge of the bed, leaving ample room between him and Bakugou. 

Thankfully, through the whole thing, Bakugou didn’t stir once. Kirishima counted his blessings, but he still had to deal with the crushing reality that this was something that would never happen again, and he had to rip himself out of it. 

It hurt, but he was used to the pain that came with crushing on his friend. It just felt much more real on this trip, where they could be so intimate and it wouldn’t count, it wouldn’t disrupt the carefully created structure of their friendship because when they were here, it was different. When they were here, Kirishima had hope, tiny, flitting strands of hope, but hope all the same. 

And yet, to hope was so terrifying. To hope that Bakugou had purposely tightened his arms around Kirishima’s body because he wanted him was a thought that was so frightening Kirishima couldn’t even dwell on it. That all of Bakugou’s touches were meant for more than just instruction made him shiver. The fact that the blonde boy went along with everything he wanted on this trip with no complaints – well, it was all just too much. How could he ever face something like that? His crush had never held any basis in reality, but the longer he spent with Bakugou, the more he was hoping that he had a chance. An actual chance. To have that level of hope scared him, because the harder he hoped, the more unbearable the pain would be when he was inevitably rejected.

The thoughts wrestled with each other in his brain – which would hurt worse? To be rejected or to go through life never knowing if his hope was warranted, and if Bakugou did return his feelings? 

It was enough to give him whiplash. 

He wanted to stay next to Bakugou. He wanted to lay pressed against him all day – beach be damned. But. His mind wouldn’t let him relax. He thought of Mina – how she would feel if she walked in on something like this. He was being too dishonest, too cruel.

He knew it couldn’t go on like this any longer. Even if Bakugou would never like him, even if all of his hope was completely for nothing, he couldn’t lead Mina on anymore. She deserved someone who could give her what she wanted – she did not deserve someone as terrible as Kirishima. Resigned to this, he forced his legs to stand, and he trudged back to his own bed, wishing with all of his heart that he could wake up again in a few hours in the blonde’s arms.

Chapter Text

Bakugou may have been in a worse mood than usual, but he was really getting ready to set off a series of heavy explosions in the middle of the dining room if Kaminari and Mina didn’t stop screaming. This was not the goddamn morning for it.

Less than an hour ago, he had woken up to emptiness, his arms wrapped around his pillow and not Kirishima. At first, he was sure that he had dreamt the whole thing, had to have, but when Kirishima saw he was awake and started stammering and his face turned tomato red, he knew that it had been real. Kirishima had smiled shakily afterwards, trying to hide his clear discomfort, but Bakugou had seen. He knew.

Neither of them mentioned it, and Kirishima made some excuse about having to do something somewhere and then hightailed it out of the room. Bakugou wanted to punch a hole into the wall – it was stupid be so self-indulgent with Kirishima. He was too nice, too good to say no, and Bakugou had clearly crossed a boundary with him.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

It was because of this fact that he was in the foulest mood his mind could conjure up as he shoveled breakfast into his mouth and tried to tune out Mina’s screeching. This task was particularly hard because she decided to sit right next to him, like they were fucking friends.

Because she was impossible to ignore, he found himself begrudgingly listening to what she was babbling to the blonde idiot about.  

A party, Kaminari was saying suavely, like he had invented the damn concept. Apparently, Aizawa and Mic would be gone for the night, trusting them by themselves for several hours while they went into town. It was stupid of the teachers, Bakugou thought, tons of things could go wrong with leaving them alone – ranging from villain attacks to someone burning down the place trying to cook. The latter was way too fucking likely. Bakugou couldn’t understand why they had made such a dumb ass decision, but he knew if he kept listening, one of the idiots would reveal it.

He was right.

“Sero and I were the ones who made it happen.” Kaminari said smugly. 

“How did you convince them?” Asui raised an eyebrow and asked in that skeptical way. 

Kaminari chuckled knowingly. “Maybe Mic is taking Aizawa on a date.” 

Bakugou looked up at that and happened to lock eyes with Jirou, who gave him a soft smile and shook her head. She didn’t seem surprised by this piece of information, but she did spend a lot of time with Mic between interning and jam sessions. Huh. Aizawa and Mic were both pro heroes – was there a possibility that they were gay? Didn’t seem likely, but Bakugou didn’t necessarily think he would like men either, and here he fucking was.

“Thought you were so sure Aizawa liked women.” Todoroki said dryly, looking only half-awake as he chewed on a piece of toast.

Sero shrugged. “Well, he didn’t say no to the dinner invite, so who knows?” 

“Not the point.” Mina interrupted. “The point is, for approximately three-to-four hours, we will be free to do whatever we please.”

“Haven’t we already been doing that?” Deku asked, confused. “Aizawa Sensei hasn’t really cared as long as we’re all accounted for and not getting into trouble.”

“Oh, sweet Midoriya.” Kaminari smirked wickedly. “We’re going to get into a lot of trouble tonight.” 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, still not speaking but giving Kaminari an irritable look. Kaminari grinned back at him and Bakugou had to resist the primal urge to lunge at him and beat his ass.

“And why do you say that, Denki?” Mina urged him on, practically hopping up and down in her seat.

“I’m glad you asked, Mina! I say that because Mic is the coolest teacher ever and Sero and I may have gotten him to purchase us some…party favors.”

Uraraka wandered into the room with her hair sticking up in every direction and let out a behemoth of a yawn. “Do you mean illegal party favors?” She asked sleepily.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Kaminari declared, smiling at Uraraka, trying to bring her attention to him. She gave him a lazy grin back, but plopped down next to Bakugou, resting her head against his shoulder. Kaminari met Bakugou’s eyes for just a moment, a trace of sadness lingering. Bakugou smirked at him and resisted the urge to childishly stick out his tongue.

“When we were in town, Mic bought us some drinks.” Sero further explained, since Kaminari’s mood seemed to deflate and he actually shut up for once in his life. “Enough for a party.”

“That’s terribly inappropriate!” Iida protested from the kitchen. “I cannot condone that!” 

“Dude, c’mon.” Whined Sero. “Let us have fun for once in our lives.”

“I think you all have too much fun already!” Iida complained.

“Do we?” Another voice had entered the conversation, and Bakugou’s head snapped sharply to where Kirishima now stood, his hair flat against his head and droplets of water still clinging to his bare chest. He was in his swim-suit. So, he had gone swimming without Bakugou there for security. Bakugou hated himself for being so fucking hurt by it.

 “What are you guys talking about?” Kirishima continued. He avoided making eye contact with Bakugou, a red tint shading his cheeks. He looked nervous and Bakugou noted that his hands were shaking. Bakugou wanted to steady them, wanted to fucking apologize for everything, wanted to apologize for all his fucked-up feelings that were messing their friendship up, but he held his tongue. Honestly, Bakugou also wanted to throw up – he wanted to storm out of the room, but Uraraka still dozed on his shoulder, and if he kept making scenes whenever Kirishima entered a room, he was going to get found out.

But when Kirishima maneuvered over to Mina, and reacted naturally when she pressed her lips to his, like it was his every day goddamn routine, Bakugou needed to get out.

Uraraka noticed him tense against her. “Hey, I’m not actually hungry. Wanna go walk on the beach?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou grunted, gratitude and fondness washing over his body. Thank the fucking Lord for Uraraka and her strange ability to be able to read every one of his moods. He was too eager to leave, and Uraraka had to scramble after him. The last thing he heard before he barreled down the stairs was Momo coaxing Iida into agreeing to the party with that gentle, soothing voice of hers, and he knew Jirou was hurting just as badly as he was.

He sent her a text, inviting her along with them. He knew Uraraka wouldn’t mind. She was the one who had set them up, anyway.

Jirou answered almost immediately, and scrambled after them, coming to a stop right as her feet hit the sand outside of the main door. “Thanks.” She said to Bakugou, relief spreading through her body from her smile. To Uraraka, she nodded bashfully, and muttered some kind of excuse about having a headache and needing some fresh air.

Uraraka stared at both of them, a dull look on her face.  “How’d yesterday go?” She asked casually.

“Fuckin’ fine.” Bakugou spat. Uraraka acted like he hadn’t said anything, and instead, prompted: “Kyoka?”

Jirou opened her mouth to answer, but then shut it. She touched the tips of her jacks together, a purplish blush flooding her cheeks. “How long have you known?”

Uraraka’s grin was so blinding that it might’ve given Bakugou permanent vision loss. He was almost disoriented enough by it to miss the words that came out of Jirou’s mouth.

Almost. “Known what?” Bakugou asked harshly, trying to convey to Jirou to not any information to Uraraka. She may have thought she knew, but the moment she was one hundred percent sure, she would never let Bakugou hear the end of it. Jesus. She’d probably text him gay memes and invite him to a pride parade.

“Katsuki.” Uraraka sighed. “Don’t patronize me.”

“But – what – how?”

 “I mean, I’m not saying it’s obvious, but…” She mimed an innocent whistle. “It’s a little obvious, honey.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” Bakugou choked out. Ah, he was fucked. He would never have a moment of peace ever again in his life. Not if Uraraka had anything to do with it. “Do you have any tact? You fuckin’ knew what you were doing then when you set us up!”

Uraraka giggled, too pleased with herself. “I was helping!”

“You should drop out of hero school and pursue being a villain.”

Jirou groaned. “I thought so. I figured there was no way you didn’t know about Bakugou – you two are too close for you to believe his bullshit. It took me about five minutes alone with him to realize it myself.”

“Right?” Uraraka agreed.

“It’s fucking convincing!” Bakugou shouted, but both of the girls just snickered under their breath. Damn it. He wasn’t obvious. Uraraka was just nosy and Jirou had a gaydar or some shit. He suddenly felt a small pang of guilt hit his stomach. Uraraka was one of the few people he would consider someone he cared about, and she thought he had been keeping this huge secret from her. “Fuck – I didn’t – I didn’t tell you because – ”

Uraraka interrupted him. “It’s fine, I get it. I knew after, you know, the thing, but I wanted you to tell me on your own. This is close enough.”

“What’s the thing?” Jirou asked.

“Nothing!” Bakugou snapped before Uraraka could open her big mouth. “Fucking – drop it. You know. Let’s move on.”

“Moooving on, yes!” Uraraka’s cheeks were pinker than usual. “You two will be attending the party, correct?”

“No.” Bakugou answered shortly, at the same time that Jirou mumbled out some excuse about needing to do something in her room. Uraraka stared at both of them, determination and a bunch of other irritating emotions in her eyes. 

“Kyoka – you’re on vacation. You absolutely have nothing to do tonight. I know that for a fact. Listen, let’s get ready for the party together. Hagakure and I will do your makeup and you can borrow one of Mina’s really skanky party outfits – she brought, like, ten.” 

“Ochako!” Jirou protested.

“What? That’s what she calls them!”

Bakugou scoffed. Uraraka was unbelievable if she thought that was enough to convince Jirou to go to some lame, pointless, waste-of-time  – 

“Okay, I’ll go.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and kicked sand heavily as he walked. Traitor. 

“Katsuki, you should come too.” Uraraka said, in that light, innocent voice she always used when she was about to make his life a hundred times harder than it already was. “If you don’t, I might get really drunk and hit on Kaminari. I assume you wouldn’t mind, Kyoka?”

“Not at all. You’re doing me a favor, actually. If he likes you enough, maybe he’ll forget how much he hates me.” 

Bakugou glared at her, and Uraraka glared right back, just waiting for him to call her bluff. Except he knew for a damn fact that she would do exactly what she said, and he wouldn’t have that bullshit on his conscious. He needed to start demanding payment for being her constant babysitter. 

He didn’t want to go to the party. He didn’t want to see Mina clinging to Kirishima, and Kirishima eating up the attention. He didn’t want to think about the fact that one of these nights, he was going to be in his room, and Kirishima wouldn’t come in. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this vacation would end, and so would their swim lessons – the intimate moments that Bakugou had grown addicted to.

He knew that when they got back to school, nothing would be the same. Kirishima was Mina’s now. Bakugou would come second.

“You should go.” Uraraka insisted. “Kirishima is going to need you there.”

“Need me for what?”

“To handle a drunk Mina.” She said with a grimace. “I love her but that’s gonna be a handful.”

Jirou nodded in silent agreement. Bakugou grunted.

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” He mumbled, sounding like a goddamn jealous school girl.

“I’m not as sure as you are.” Uraraka said, and Bakugou ignored the knowing smirk that Jirou was trying to direct his way.

“Fuckin’ fine. I’ll go, but I’m gonna hate every minute of it and complain the whole time.” 

“We’ll see.” Uraraka sang. 

Bakugou spent the rest of the morning out on the beach, relishing the few moments he had where he didn’t have to think about Kirishima.

Of course, it was short lived. Bakugou planned to retire to his room for the day to build up his social tolerance. He would need extra strength to get through a party with a bunch of drunk idiots, especially when Kirishima was one of said idiots. He thought he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bothering him, but he should’ve known that that would be too easy, and nothing about his life could be easy.

“Oh, hey, man.” Kirishima opened the door and smiled awkwardly at him. “You coming to the beach today?”

“Nope.” Bakugou didn’t look up from his phone, because Kirishima insisted that being on vacation was an excuse to walk around without a shirt at all times. “Waste of my time.”

“Ah, alright, man. No worries.” He didn’t push, which was unlike him. His entire person radiated frantic energy, like he had words on the tip of his tongue that he was forcing back down. “Uh, you coming tonight though, right?”

“Round Face said if I don’t that she’ll fall all over fuckin’ Pikachu, so yeah, guess I have to.” Bakugou kept his voice casual, not letting on that, yeah, of course he’d be at the damn party, because he was drawn to Kirishima like a fucking magnet and he’d be lying to himself if he said otherwise.

“Cool, man.” Kirishima grinned. “I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun. Never seen Kaminari or Sero drunk but I bet it’s something else…”

“Sure it’s fucking annoying.” Bakugou scoffed.

“Ah, you love them just like you love me.” Kirishima teased and Bakugou didn’t bother with a response to that. He didn’t trust himself to speak because he might blush or something fucking ridiculous. “Hey, I…can I ask you something?”

Bakugou swallowed, wondering what he could possibly have to ask him. Would it be about last night? Did he want to know why Bakugou had wrapped his arms around him like Kirishima belonged to him? “You’re going to anyway, so get on with it,” he said. His voice came out croakier than he would’ve liked.

“Do you…I mean…what do you think of Mina and I?” Kirishima stammered over his words and refused to meet Bakugou’s eyes, and the question hung heavy in the air. Bakugou stared at him.

“Why would you give a fuck what I think?” Bakugou couldn’t figure Kirishima out, and maybe that was one of the most frustrating things about this whole fucking situation. He had to watch him suck face with the girl first thing in the morning, and then not three hours later he’s standing in front of him, sounding so unsure about the whole thing. Bakugou just didn’t get it.

“You’re…you’re my best bro. I just. I don’t know. I think I need an outsider’s perspective of the whole thing.”

“You think I’m gonna give good fucking relationship advice?” Bakugou almost laughed at how absurd it was. Kirishima cracked a smile too.

“Yeah, actually, I don’t know what I was thinking. Disregard the question.”

“Ah, you shit head.” Bakugou liked this. This was normal. This wasn’t the whole fucking walking on eggshells thing they had been doing since this morning, and really, for half of the damn trip. “I don’t know. Do what you want. The alien freak is…fine. She’s not the worst you could do.”

He wanted Kirishima to be happy, and it was clear that Bakugou wasn’t going to be the person to make that happen. If he liked the alien freak then so fucking be it. He would have to survive.

“Who’s the worst I could do?” Kirishima joked.

“Pikachu.”

The redhead laughed, almost hysterically. Then covered his mouth. “Ha, funny. Kaminari. Not exactly my type.”

Bakugou looked at him suspiciously. Kirishima had become nervous again, and Bakugou wondered if it was because he had made a reference to him being interested in a man. Did he…did he know?

“Yeah. Well. See you later.” He needed to end the conversation now, and banishing Kirishima from the room would be the best way to do it. He seemed to understand, because despite the frown he wore while he gathered his things for the beach, he didn’t ask Bakugou any more questions.

“See you later.” He said as he walked out the door, and his voice sounded to Bakugou almost hopeful.

-x-

Bakugou was already tired by the time the sun set and Uraraka came banging on his door to demand he get his ass outside to the beach. According to Kaminari, she so helpfully informed him, Aizawa and Mic had just left, and they had to get things going quickly. The idiots were going to give themselves alcohol poisoning from trying to drink too fast, but Bakugou just really couldn’t give a shit.

Uraraka, though, would not be ignored. He grudgingly answered the door to find her and Jirou waiting for him. Both of the girls had dressed up for the occasion, in bright tropical colors. Uraraka wore a pink bikini top and a matching sarong (Bakugou only knew what that was because his parents worked in fashion, and if anyone ever commented on it, he would destroy them) while Jirou wore a pair of high-waisted jean shorts and her own purple bikini top. Bakugou was sure Uraraka had wrestled her into it. Both of them had flowers in their hair, and both were smiling at him.

Bakugou was glad that Uraraka had adopted Jirou. She needed to spend time with people other than the two biggest fucking squares in UA. She already seemed happier.

“Ready, Katsuki?” Uraraka trilled. “I helped Kaminari mix the drinks and they’re so good!” She teetered as she talked, and Jirou gripped her hand.

“Did you already have some of those drinks?” He asked her, narrowing his eyes.

“Maybe!”

Ah, tonight was going to be a goddamn mess, but he had no choice but to go now if Uraraka was already drunk.

Uraraka intertwined her other hand with Bakugou’s, and he and Jirou practically swung her down to the beach. Bakugou wasn’t annoyed; he knew Uraraka would be the least of his problems tonight.

When they arrived, there was already a fire raging, stretching high into the sky and warming Bakugou before he even got close to it. Todoroki sat smugly next to Deku – he had clearly outdone himself for the occasion.

The entirety of his class was already sitting around the fire-pit, on various logs that Satou and Shoji had hauled over, all with drinks in hand. Kaminari and Sero were hopping around to everyone, offering refills of whatever they had concocted and acting generally obnoxious. Bakugou spied Kirishima immediately – he was sitting by Mina, and judging by the emptiness of the clear cup he held in his hand – already well on his way to being drunk.

Bakugou led Uraraka and Jirou to one of the logs and sat Uraraka down. “Stay.” He told her firmly.

“I would like another drink!” She demanded, and Jirou dissolved into laughter.

“I’ll get her one.” She said. “You want one?”

“No, this is not my idea of fun.” He grunted, and from the log next to him, Mina perked up.

“Ooh, you don’t like drinking, Bakugou?” She taunted. “Such a strict rule follower – even more so than Iida, apparently.” She rolled her head in the direction of the four-eyed nerd who was sitting next to Momo, nursing his own alcoholic drink, his cheeks already flushed.

Kirishima’s eyes widened at Mina’s teasing, but Bakugou knew how the alien freak operated. She knew that he only reacted to challenges – knew that if it was insinuated that he couldn’t do something, that the wires in his brain would short-circuit, and he would be forced to do the thing in order to prove everyone wrong. He could never hold himself back from showing people up.

“You think I’m a little bitch, racoon eyes?” He barked at her. “Get me a fucking drink, ears.”

Jirou smiled, and saluted before striding off to Sero to get something. In his peripheral vision, Bakugou could see Kirishima wearing a shit-eating grin. Uraraka was humming to herself, and Bakugou figured she was fine, so he turned his attention to the boy. “What are you smiling at, Shitty Hair?”

"You’re just so predictable.” He laughed. Bakugou ignored him. At that moment, Mina jumped up and grabbed another drink from Kaminari, while calling to Jirou: “Aux cord, aux cord!” Jirou dropped off Bakugou and Uraraka’s drinks and then ran off. Directly after that, Kaminari plopped down next to Uraraka, capturing her in conversation.

There was too much going on around him – maybe a drink would help him relax. He took a sip, and found that it didn’t taste like he imagined alcohol would taste at all. It was sweet, fruity, and went down easily. He swallowed it all in one prolonged chug.

“Jeeze, eager.” Kirishima chuckled, and Bakugou glared at him. The other boy shrugged, and then let his eyes fall to the now empty space next to him. Bakugou decided that Uraraka was not yet drunk enough for him to be concerned about her – if he noticed anything funny from Kaminari, he would chuck him into the ocean – and so he moved next to Kirishima.

“This shit isn’t horrible.” Bakugou admitted, now holding up his empty cup.

“Yeah, it’s good.” Kirishima’s eyes were a little lidded, and he was smiling even more than usual – if that was fucking possible. “Want me to get us some more?”

Bakugou should’ve said no, but Kirishima was looking at him with those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and he found that the word no longer existed in his vocabulary.

When Kirishima came back with the second drink, Bakugou took his time with it, realizing that the one drink he already had finished was already affecting him – but in a good way. He was warm, a little more relaxed. Jirou had taken charge over a speaker, and was now blasting bass-heavy, pop-jams into the open air, which were the opposite of her preferred music choices. She shot Bakugou a long-suffering look, and mouthed: Mina.

All around him, his classmates were getting progressively drunker. Whatever Mic had gotten for them, it was some strong shit. Or maybe they were a bunch of goodie-two-shoes lightweights – either or would’ve explained what was happening around him. Jirou kept having to pump up the volume of the music so that it could be heard over the shouting. Bakugou noticed she sat close by Momo and Iida.

As the music blared into the night-sky, the conversations Bakugou was forced to listen to go progressively stranger, but in his contented state, he almost wanted to participate.

“I’m just saying.” Mina was practically screeching. “Mind control as a quirk could be used as a sex thing.”

Hagakure laughed so hard that her bikini top fell lower, and Bakugou realized she had dropped herself into Ojiro’s lap. That was bold of her. But then, as he looked around, he thought that they were all pretty damn bold right then. Uraraka was leaning into Kaminari, one hand on his knee. Momo had taken Iida’s glasses and was wearing them, teasing him for his horrible eyesight, and he didn’t even seem to mind. Fucking Deku was practically laying on Todoroki, but Bakugou didn’t know what the fuck was going on there – they were just weird. The alcohol was taking hold of them all, and quickly.

He felt bold himself, but maybe not bold enough. Not yet.

“That’s unethical, Mina!” Momo protested. She had given Iida his glasses back. She was much louder and less prissy-sounding when she was drunk. This Momo could probably beat someone’s ass at a sports bar. It was a fun mental image. “He could force you to do things you didn’t want to do!”

“Ugh, like a true dom.” Mina said dreamily. “Of course, you don’t have to have a quirk to do that.” She winked towards Kirishima, and some of their classmates let out hoots of encouragement. Kirishima’s cheeks burned.

“I wish she wouldn’t do that.” Kirishima muttered so only Bakugou could hear. “She’s so…”

“Loud? Fuckin’ shameless?” Bakugou had found the source of the punch they were drinking, and was now on his third. “Yeah.” He turned to Mina. “Hey, alien freak – control your goddamn hormones.”

Mina just stuck her tongue out at him, pointed to her horns and mouthed: horny.

Kirishima laughed, but then blushed. “Thanks for that. Mina…she’s great, she’s just… We’re really similar, but she’s so much more confident than me.” He whispered. He took another quick sip of his drink, like a nervous tick.

Bakugou smirked. “They say you’re not supposed to date someone just like you.” He let the words spill over his lips, no filter. “Opposites attract, and all that shit.”

“Yeah, who’s my opposite?” Kirishima was so close to him, and fuck, he was hot – physically, and temperature-wise. The alcohol was playing tricks on Bakugou, making him think that Kirishima was leaning into him, that he was purposely brushing his hand against Bakugou’s arm when he talked, that he was staring at his lips.

“You tell me.” Bakugou dared, and he knew that he didn’t imagine the way Kirishima’s lips parted, or the way his pupils grew larger.

“Eijiiiirou!” The moment was shattered when Mina stumbled over to them and Bakugou jumped away from Kirishima’s space. The alien freak didn’t seem to think anything of them sitting so close together, speaking so intimately – she was sloppy drunk, swaying and giggling with every word, and her attention was now hyper-focused on Kirishima. “Dance with me.”

“Mina, I – ”

"I wasn’t asking!” She pulled him upwards, and Kirishima let himself be dragged by her. The song that was playing could only be described as sexy – with a fast-enough beat to move to, but slow enough to take your time. Kirishima gave Bakugou an apologetic look, but he went, and Bakugou’s eyes never left him as he let Mina take the lead, and began to dance against her.

“I love this song!” Uraraka shrieked from next to him, and fuck, Bakugou had forgotten about his babysitting job. He was getting to be too drunk for this. Uraraka started dancing on her own, throwing eyes at Kaminari in front of her.

God, Bakugou was going to vomit. He should put a end to it, but he didn’t think he could stop watching Kirishima for long enough. Every time he tried to tear his eyes away, they were forced back to him – to the way his body rolled with the beat, to the way the sweat shined on his shirtless chest, to the way he moved with Mina, mirroring all of her movements, following her motions.

Bakugou wanted that. He wanted Kirishima to follow him – to trust him to take the lead, and show him everything that he needed from him. He wanted him to grind against him, hot, so hot that he couldn’t control it –

He finally tore his eyes away, feeling himself lose control over a fucking fantasy. When he did, he caught Sero grinning from next to him.

"What the fuck are you looking at?” Bakugou grunted.

“Nothing man.” Sero shrugged. “I can’t stop staring at her either.” He glanced back over to Kirishima and Mina. “Kiri is a lucky dude.”

“I wasn’t – ” Bakugou began to protest in his drunken-state, but then clamped his mouth shut. Soy sauce face thinking that he was staring at Mina was a good thing – he couldn’t let his lips get too loose, couldn’t risk exposing his secret.

“Hey, look.” Sero held up a small, colorful bottle. “You gotta try this. It’s insane.”

“What is it?” Bakugou glared, distrusting.

“Trust me,” Sero leaned in, and Bakugou could see how drunk he was. “It’s magic juice.”

Bakugou took the bottle and turned it over between his fingers. He gave one last look to Kirishima and Mina and it had been a fucking mistake – Mina had turned around and was rocking her hips against Kirishima, her arms around his neck. They were practically fucking in front of everyone.

And fuck, Bakugou wished it were him – could picture it perfectly in his head.

Bakugou popped the cap off the bottle and swallowed it down in one swig. It had a sharp aftertaste, but Bakugou didn’t give a shit. He had to do something about the intrusive thoughts in his head, and running away wouldn’t cut it this time. “Lemme get another.” He demanded of Sero.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

-x-

Kirishima was really, really fucked up.

And not just from the alcohol, no. Yeah, he was definitely drunk – like, he felt it, but he was more thinking about how fucked up he was in the head.  

There he was, dancing with his “girlfriend” who he really had no romantic feelings for at all, and thinking about Bakugou. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Bakugou since last night, really. He couldn’t get the feeling out of his head of Bakugou with his arms wrapped around him, Bakugou’s warmth, Bakugou’s arms. It had consumed him all morning to the point where he went on a run just to get away from it. He couldn’t even look Bakugou in the eye – if he did, he was sure Bakugou would be able to see the hopeless love and desire written all over his face.

And tonight. Tonight was a really, really bad idea. He had started drinking immediately, before Bakugou had even shown up, so that he would be too blurry-minded to think about him too much. That was mistake number one. As it turns out, when Kirishima got drunk, he lost all his tact, and became way more flirty than usual. He couldn’t help it – Bakugou was just so beautiful, so perfect, and right there for him to touch him. He got away with little brushes of his finger against Bakugou’s skin, but he needed more.

Mistake number two, he was partaking in at that very moment – dancing with Mina. The thing was, he was supposed to have broken up with Mina today. He had a whole plan – he was going to tell her the truth, beg for her forgiveness, probably cry because, hey, he was an emotional person, and then just pray that she didn’t tell the entire school about him. He had hyped himself up to it, deciding that by this afternoon, before the party, it would be done.

Then he had made the grand mistake (what number would that be?) of asking Bakugou his opinion on it. It had been an innocent enough question – he just wanted to gauge his reaction – but the answer was not what he had expected. Not only had Bakugou given an actual, thought-out answer, but he also seemed fine with him and Mina – not at all concerned.

It had caused him to lose his nerve. He began second guessing himself and if this really was the right decision. He thought that maybe it would be a better idea to explain things to Mina after this vacation was over. How hard could it be to fake things for another week?

And now, he was dancing with Mina and wishing she was Bakugou. He was so, incredibly fucked up.

Yet, it was easy, right then, to pretend. The alcohol in his system kept him relaxed, and he was able to enjoy himself with Mina like he did when they were friends, when everything was fine and he was happy. He danced with Mina, but every so often, he would glance in Bakugou’s direction, and the blonde was always looking right back at him. It made heat pool deep in Kirishima’s stomach and filled his head with even more thoughts that should not be there.

He knew he should stop – deep in his mind, he knew that, but Kirishima decided that for one night, he would turn his brain off.

He was brought back into reality when Mina stumbled over her feet while trying to twist herself around, and collapsed into Kirishima’s chest. Ah, she was really drunk.

“Mina.” Kirishima steadied her, and then himself, and frowned at her.

“Oops.” She giggled weakly, pushing heavy against his stomach to stand herself back up. “Didn’t mean to fall on you.”

“Mina, you should probably go to sleep. Think you might’ve drank too much.” He was concerned about her well-being. He tried to stop her when she proposed a chugging contest between herself and Todoroki earlier in the night, but Mina was a force of nature when she was sober – when she was drunk was a whole different beast.

“Only if you come with me.” Mina purred.

“Not tonight.” He said sternly.

“Eijirou.” She whined. “I don’t think I’ll make it back alone.”

“Mina, you’re drunk.” He held onto her shoulders, keeping her in place. “You know that’s not right.”

Mina leveled with him, staring deep into his eyes, analyzing him even through her drunken haze. Kirishima held his breath, but then Mina sighed. “Always a gentleman, my Eijirou. That’s okay. Toru, will you take me to my room? I’m apparently, very drunk.”

"Of course, hun.” Hagakure said, and she walked over to the two of them with Ojiro by her side, and helped Kirishima transfer Mina’s dead-weight over to him. Ojiro promised they’d put her to bed and text him when she was all settled, and Kirishima thanked him.  

Honestly, he could’ve cried with relief. It was getting hard to maintain his act in his drunken-state. His eyes were drawn to Bakugou like there was a magnetic force between them.

Bakugou – who was staring at him now, unabashedly, undeniably staring. When Kirishima met his gaze, he raised one eyebrow and Kirishima knew it was his way of an invitation. Somehow, he knew that there was something different in Bakugou’s eyes. He found his way over to him.

“You wanna ditch this?” Bakugou asked.  “I’m bored.”

The liquid confidence Kirishima had urged his words out. “Don’t I have swim lessons tonight?”

Bakugou scoffed. “Don’t think swim lessons are the best idea in our state.”

Kirishima laughed, feeling light. “You’re right. Might drown.”

The intensity in Bakugou’s eyes was enough to knock Kirishima over, but he stood strong. Finally, he spoke. “Wouldn’t let you drown, Kirishima.”   

Kirishima was warm – too warm, burning. He was hotter than the surface of the sun and he wanted – no, needed – to get away from this party. He needed to be alone with Bakugou. He needed to know if this was real, or all in his drink-addled imagination. Once in for all, he had to know. “Hey, there’s a hot tub outside of our room. It’s not the same as swimming, but…”

Bakugou shrugged. “Lead the way.”

Kirishima bounced on the soles of his feet as Bakugou said goodbye to first Jirou, who gave him a smirk and waved her fingers at Kirishima (he blushed and waved back nervously, still guilty over how she had been treated by his friend group), and then Uraraka. He popped his palms threateningly at Kaminari with assurance that if he tried anything, Bakugou would seek him out and burn all the hair on his head off.

Uraraka promised she would be okay, and then hiccoughed out: “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.” And winked. Bakugou glared at her.

Kirishima smiled at that. He used to think that Bakugou was into Uraraka, but the more he watched them together, the more he realized it was more of a brother and sister relationship. Bakugou seemed to be developing the same type of relationship with Jirou – something innocent, something platonic. When Kirishima thought about it, Bakugou never really seemed interested romantically in any of the girls. He was more…protective.

The walk to their room felt like it took an eternity. Bakugou was slower in this state, and ambled on with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Where’d your girlfriend go?”

“Oh, Mina.” Kirishima wished Bakugou wouldn’t bring her up. He didn’t want to think about Mina, didn’t want to think about how horrible he was being, or how much he didn’t want to hurt her. He just hadn’t wanted to ruin her night, and selfishly, he didn’t want her to hate him. “She went to bed.”

“Surprised you didn’t go with her.” Bakugou said off-handedly, and Kirishima turned to look directly into his eyes.

“Are you?”

Bakugou didn’t respond, but he had stopped moving, tethered to the ground by Kirishima’s question. They stood like that, facing each other, for what felt like hours but could have only been seconds, before Bakugou grunted out, “let’s go.”

Kirishima already wore his bathing suit, so he left Bakugou to change and slipped out onto the deck. He watched the fire continue to burn, listened to the heavy bass of the music, and found himself much more relaxed when he was away from it all. He loved his friends, and he had a good time with them, but to be here, alone with Bakugou – that was what he truly wanted.

“You gonna get in, Shitty Hair, or you just gonna stare?” Bakugou’s voice was close behind him and Kirishima jumped. When he turned, they were just a few feet apart, and Kirishima forced his eyes to stay locked to Bakugou’s, and not to scan the length of his body.

“I was just waiting for you.” Kirishima offered and Bakugou brushed past him, bumping their shoulders, before climbing into the hot tub.

“Shit. That’s nice. Why haven’t we used this before?” Kirishima watched, mesmerized, as he sunk in to his neck, and his eyes fluttered closed.

“Been too busy teaching me to swim.” Kirishima said, and he settled himself across from Bakugou. The hot tub was big enough to accommodate several people, but if he stretched himself out, he could touch Bakugou.

“Well, fucking worked, yeah? You went swimming without me this morning.” Bakugou pouted a bit as the words left his lips and Kirishima watched his features with awe.

“I…yeah. I went on a run to clear my head, and it got hot so I jumped in. I held my own pretty well.” He joked. “As you can see by the fact that I’m still alive.”

“Not surprised. You’re good at everything you do.” Bakugou said, resting his arms behind his head.

“Ah, no I’m not, man. Plenty of things I suck at.” Kirishima was glad the water was so hot, and obscured his blush. “Pretty average in terms of, like, everything.”

“Shut up.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you’re less than everyone else. You’re just as much as a hero as any one of those extras. You’re stupidly strong – and sometimes just stupid.”  

Kirishima smiled, staring down into the water. Even though it had an insult tacked on to the end of it, hearing something like that from Bakugou made his heart swell.

“Thanks, man.”

Bakugou just grunted in response, and spread his arms farther behind him, moving his body in the process. His foot brushed against Kirishima’s ankle, and he left it there.

Kirishima’s heart stuttered. He couldn’t tell if Bakugou had done it on purpose, or if he had just wanted to stretch out. He tried to compose himself – it was his ankle, for God’s sake – and changed the subject in an attempt to take his mind off the small pressure that was setting fireworks off in his brain.

He didn’t get a chance to, though, before Bakugou spoke again. “Guess this means you don’t need the lessons anymore.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened at that. He didn’t really need the lessons anymore – he felt confident enough to brave the water on his own, knowing he wouldn’t drown, at least, but if they stopped the lessons, he would have no more excuses to touch Bakugou. He wouldn’t have reason to wrap his arms around him, for the blonde to brush his hair away from his eyes.

But if Bakugou didn’t want to –

He gasped out loud, cutting his thoughts off into non-existence, feeling his brain turn into mush. Bakugou had moved his foot, had drawn it upwards lazily so that it now rested against Kirishima’s thigh, near his lap. “Bakugou – ” he managed to choke out.

“I’ll stop if you ask me to.” Bakugou said, and his voice was something Kirishima had never heard before – it was low and wanting; it was dangerous. He applied pressure, not taking his eyes off Kirishima. “If you don’t want this, tell me now.”

“I – ” Kirishima couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t think. His entire body had shut down. His soul might’ve left him, to be honest. He couldn’t be sure. Was this real? Was this happening? He hadn’t expected any of this. “No, I – I don’t want you to stop.”

Bakugou seemed almost surprised at his answer. He raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

"I’m sure.” Kirishima practically hissed out the words as Bakugou inched his foot so that it was resting right above his crotch, hovering. Bakugou grinned, and then flexed his heel down so it was rubbing against Kirishima. He couldn’t control the small groan that escaped his lips. “Baku – Bakugou. C’mere.”

Bakugou closed the distance between them so quickly that he splashed Kirishima slightly, and then he was right in front of him. Their bodies weren’t quite touching and they sat there, staring at each other. There was less than an inch separating their lips, and Kirishima’s eyes fell down to study Bakugou’s – they were parted just slightly, like they were inviting Kirishima in.

“Can I – can I kiss you?” He rasped out. He kept waiting for Bakugou to snap out of it, to tell him he was reading the entire situation wrong, to kill him, but instead, the boy just nodded. So, Kirishima swallowed down his fears, turned off his brain, and let his instinct take over. He pressed his lips to Bakugou’s, melting at how warm and soft they felt, how right they felt. Neither boy was stiff – neither of them were faking it. This, Kirishima realized, is what a real kiss was supposed to feel like.

Bakugou sighed into the kiss, and shifted so that he could put his hands on Kirishima. He wrapped one arm around his neck, tickling it with his fingers, and slid the other into his hair, tugging gently. Kirishima took it as encouragement, and let his own hands wander Bakugou’s thighs as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

It was all surprisingly gentle – Kirishima had imagined their first kiss many times, and it was always something heated, even aggressive. Bakugou didn’t seem like the type to take it slow, but right now, with Kirishima, he was taking his time. He was savoring him, feeling him all over.

And Kirishima loved it. He couldn’t get enough. When Bakugou slowly pushed his tongue past Kirishima’s lips, Kirishima gladly obliged, opening his mouth wider for him. When Bakugou gripped his hair harder, pulling him closer, Kirishima moaned and let his hands travel further up towards the waist band of Bakugou’s swim trunks.

“You’re so fucking good.” Bakugou breathed, and he separated their mouths so that he could move his lips to Kirishima’s neck. He sucked lightly and nibbled over his pulse-point. Kirishima felt his body seize. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

"You – you have?” Kirishima could hardly form coherent sentences. His brain and his body were both on overdrive, and the only thought he could shape was Bakugou. “How long?”

“Since the beginning of this goddamn trip, at least.” Bakugou kissed harder, and if Kirishima had been in a better state of mind, had his mind been less hazy, he would’ve protested. Bakugou was going to leave a bruise, but right now – he loved it. “Probably longer.” Bakugou added, and he moved his hands so that they were running down Kirishima’s chest. He recaptured his lips, and this time, the kiss was heavier. It was suffocating, leaving Kirishima breathless and desperate in Bakugou’s arms, pliable like putty. He wanted more – needed more.

Bakugou seemed eager to give it to him. Kirishima’s heart thumped erratically in his chest as their hands wandered all over their body, finally able to explore every ridge and curve of each other. Bakugou gripped Kirishima by his hips, and pulled him into his lap, yanking his head down to meet his lips once more. 

And then, a door slammed nearby, and Kirishima almost jumped out of the hot tub in fear. The spell was broken, and he remembered suddenly where he was, what he was doing, and just how drunk he and Bakugou were. He thought of Mina, and how crushed she would be if she knew about this, how betrayed.

“Bakugou,” He whispered against his lips. “I can’t – I can’t do this.”

Bakugou pulled back like Kirishima had slapped him. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I – it’s wrong. I want to, but Mina...” He couldn’t speak correctly, couldn’t make the words form the way he wanted to. “I can’t…”

“Fucking – Jesus Christ. Yeah. Your fucking girlfriend.” He spat. “You’d rather I was her, right?”

“No! It’s not that, it’s not that at all! We're drunk, and I just need – ”

“Fuck this.” Bakugou said, and he stood up quickly, sending water out of the tub. “I knew this was a fucking mistake.”

“Bakugou!”

“Don’t fucking follow me, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou growled at him, and he gave Kirishima one, narrowed-eyed glare before he slammed the sliding door behind him, and disappeared into the house. Kirishima was left alone in the hot tub, wondering at what point during this trip had he gone so wrong to end up here.

Chapter Text

Bakugou banged on the door three times, loudly. He didn’t know what time it was, but he didn’t really fucking care either. There was no answer.

“Oi, Uraraka!” He hissed. “Open up! I need to talk to you!”

The door finally swung open, but it wasn’t Uraraka who answered it. Asui stood in front of him, covered in a blanket and looking bleary-eyed. “Bakugou? It’s past midnight. Aizawa Sensei and Mic Sensei are definitely back by now – if they hear you, we’ll get in trouble.”

Bakugou ignored her entirely pointless warning. He peered over her head, looking into the room, but it was dark and there was no sign of Uraraka. He could feel the impending panic that had begun to gather in his chest, constricting him and making it hard to breathe. “I need to see Uraraka.” He said again.

“She’s not here, kero.” Asui said blankly.

“What the fuck do you mean? Where else would she be?”

“Uh,” Asui offered, and she gave Bakugou a look like she was trying not to set him off, but too fucking late, because he was about four seconds away from exploding and Uraraka was the only one who was half decent at calming him down. “She’s…”

“What’s going on?” Another voice spoke up, one that was absolutely not Uraraka. It was sleepy and disoriented and male. “Bakugou?”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Soy Sauce Face? Fuckin’ gross.”

“Ah, it’s not like that, man!” Sero held up his hands in surrender, his face turning bright enough to see in the dark.

"Hanta-kun got kicked out of his room,” Asui said. “So, he’s staying in mine.”

As if this night wasn’t weird enough – his drunk brain couldn’t comprehend how the fuck this couple had gotten together, but it was irrelevant. Bakugou had his own problems.

“Okay, I don’t care. I need Uraraka. Do you understand who I am asking for?” He tried to speak slowly and annunciate so that they would understand. He was the drunk one, and they were the ones being idiots. Slowing down would hopefully help to calm his erratically beating heart and prevent himself from slurring his words. He decided being drunk was the absolute worst. 

“Uh…” Sero glanced away, and then it clicked in Bakugou’s hazy mind. Sero was rooming with Kaminari. If he had been kicked out of his room, that meant Kaminari had a girl in there. Uraraka was rooming with Asui. If she was missing, then logically…

“She’s with Pikachu?” He asked incredulously, then rounded on Asui. “Fucking – I can’t believe you let her do that!” 

Asui shrugged. “She’s a grown woman, kero.”

If Bakugou had been more sober, he would’ve been seething about the fact that Uraraka’s supposed best friend was irresponsible enough to just let her run off with the biggest idiot in UA, but he couldn’t find the brain power to be angry. He was too fucked up; too torn apart. He couldn’t stop imagining Kirishima’s face, his lips, how warm he was. He needed it out of his head. He just needed to talk to Uraraka, and standing here with these two was only wasting time.

He gave them one last glare, then stalked away from the door. He could hear Asui calling after him, panic in her voice, but Sero stopped her.

“Let him go.” He said gravely. “Once Bakugou has made up his mind, it’s best to just stay out of the crossfire.” 

And that was the fucking truth.

Bakugou stomped right up to Kaminari’s room. It was a short walk, but somehow it felt endless when he was in such a destroyed state. He wanted to turn around, to find Kirishima and to kiss him breathless, to prove to him that he was worth it, that he could give him things that his damn girlfriend couldn’t. He wanted to be enough. But he couldn’t fucking do that – he couldn’t. He probably couldn’t ever look Kirishima in the eye again. He made it to Kaminari’s door and knocked in quick succession. The knocks reminded him of his own heartbeat – except that felt louder. An image of Kirishima’s face as Bakugou’s hands ran down his arms flashed into his mind. He groaned out loud, trying to make it go away.

"Oi, Pikachu! Open up!” Kaminari wouldn’t be able to ignore him. He’d stay out there all damn night if he had to. He’d cause the biggest scene.

Turns out, Kaminari was smarter than he looked, and he didn’t make Bakugou wait long. The door swung open just slightly, and Kaminari stood in front of him, blocking his view of the room, and wearing nothing but a pair of loose, gray sweatpants. 

“Move, idiot.” He elbowed him aside and Kaminari squeaked in protest.

“Bakugou, you can’t just come into my – ” 

“Round Face.” Bakugou ignored Kaminari and stared at Uraraka, who was lying in Kaminari’s bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin. She held eye contact with Bakugou like a champ, not even having the decency to blush. Kaminari muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead.

"Katsuki.” Uraraka said back evenly, sizing him up and analyzing the look in his eyes, which he imagined was as manic as he felt. She didn’t look nearly as drunk as he was, but her demeanor was relaxed and her eyes were slightly lidded – he really tried not to imagine the implications of why that was.

“Uh, dude?” Kaminari gave him a pleading look. “Get out?”

“No, I need to talk to Uraraka.” He said sternly. He wouldn’t budge on it. “You get out.”

“This is my room?!” Kaminari cried, but then groaned. “You can’t talk to her at a different time?”

"No, it has to be right now.”

Uraraka intervened. “It’s okay, Denki.” She said softly. “Katsuki wouldn’t so rudely interrupt if it wasn’t something of earth-shattering importance.” She raised an eyebrow at him, as if confirming this. He inclined his head slightly in agreement. “Is it Ei?” She asked. Bakugou’s mouth twitched. He didn’t want the electric idiot to hear. His discomfort was the response Uraraka needed.

"Hey, Denki?” Her voice was sugar sweet. Bakugou couldn’t believe she was behaving this way with such a moron. When he was sober, he was going to have a talk with her about her goddamn standards. “You should go check on Eijirou.”

"No!” Bakugou’s cry was more strangled than he had intended, and his ears turned red. “He’s…he’s fucking fine.” 

Uraraka ignored Bakugou’s plea completely, and kept her eyes locked to Kaminari. He looked monumentally disappointed, but he grit his teeth into a hard line and nodded. He leaned down to where Uraraka lay and kissed her on the cheek. She whispered something up into his ear and he turned pink. Bakugou tried to hold in the vomit that the scene induced. 

Kaminari gave Bakugou one last cautionary look, then ambled out of the room, not even bothering to put a shirt on. Truly an idiot. “You’re sleeping with Pikachu?” He rounded on Uraraka.

"This is not about me!” She said quickly, sternly. “Please turn around so I can get dressed.”

"Jesus Christ, Uraraka.” He shook his head in despair. “Of all the guys in this damn class you choose that one?”

“Not about me, Katsuki. Thirty seconds, please.”

Bakugou turned around and shut his eyes, holding himself steady so he wouldn’t sway. Closing his eyes was a bad idea, it made him dizzy and it gave his brain full permission to assault him with images of Kirishima – his chest, glistening from the hot-tub, his swollen lips, his wanting red-eyes. 

"You done yet?” He gasped, opening his eyes and feeling like he was going to pass out.

"Yes.” She said. When he turned around, she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and sitting crisscrossed on the bed. “Sit.” She ordered.

He did as he was told, then immediately buried his face in his hands in agony. “I fucked up really bad, Round Face. Really, really bad.” 

“Tell me all about it.” She coaxed his face from his hands and motioned for him to lay his head in her lap. He did, and she ran her fingers through his hair. It was soothing. He was already less tense. He took a breath, and recounted the events starting from how Kirishima flirted with him at the bonfire, to the signals he gave him in the hot-tub, to the frenzied, heated way Kirishima had kissed him, almost strangling him with his arms, like he couldn’t get close enough. Tears prickled at his eyes when he told her how he had stopped them, how he had brought up Mina.

When he finished, Uraraka was quiet, still kneading her fingers through his spikey hair. She hummed thoughtfully. “Why’d you panic?” She asked finally. 

"Hah?” 

“You panicked. Why?” Her voice was light. “Why wouldn’t you hear Kiri out?”

“I – he – he didn’t want me. He was thinking about…about her.” He sputtered out. “I shouldn’t have fucking done it. I was drunk and I was fucking stupid. I shouldn’t even…” He trailed off. “I wish I wasn’t like this.”

“Like what, gay?”

"Don’t!” Bakugou choked out. “Don’t fuckin’ say it out loud like that.”

“Katsuki, you are gay. That’s who you are, and that’s fine. What’s it matter?” She kept her tone steady, conversational. She was good at that – acting like she was just making conversation when she was really subtly implanting shit into his head.

“It matters because that’s – I’m trying to be a hero, Uraraka, I can’t – that’s stupid – I’m not.” He couldn’t form full sentences. He kept tripping over his tongue and second-guessing what came out of his mouth.

“Todoroki is trying to be a hero too, and he’s extremely gay.” Uraraka pointed out, continuing to tangle her fingers through his hair, probably causing it to stand up in every direction, but it kept him grounded. He would drown in his confusion if she stopped. 

He had to repeat what she had just said in his head three times before he fully processed it.

“Todo – the half-and-half is into men?” The fact was so ridiculous that he was tempted to call her a liar. Every girl in school had the hots for that bastard. Bakugou couldn’t see why. Brooding and daddy-issues weren’t exactly his type.

God, he hated that he even had a type of man.

"Yeah, he is.” She said, like it was obvious. “One man in particular, who is more than likely into him as well, but won’t admit it to himself.”  

“What – who?” This was all brand-new information to him. Bakugou had been convinced he was the only damn sucker with this problem.

“Deku, of course.” He could almost hear the sad smile in her voice without even needing to look up at her. “I think that he loves him too, but he doesn’t know yet.”

“What the fuck? Seriously?” He knew the nerd wad bad with girls – he went into a panic whenever anyone of the opposite sex even looked at him, but Bakugou didn’t think that meant he liked men. They spent a lot of time together, but Bakugou just assumed that was because they were bonding over what insufferable pains in the asses they were.

He made no comment to Uraraka, but crinkled his nose. She had had a crush on Deku for years now. Bakugou had been steadily trying to convince her to move on, but she had been unshakable in her pursuit – until recently when she had given up, seemingly out of nowhere. “I didn’t know that.” He said finally.

“Because you never talk to Todoroki unless you’re insulting him and you don’t like to listen to me talk about Deku.” Uraraka scolded. He muttered some protest about how he listened to her regardless of what she wanted to talk about, but she disregarded it and continued on. “He doesn’t keep it a secret. There’s no reason he would – it’s not a shameful thing. You’re not the only one going through this. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Kirishima isn’t though. He wants Mina.”  

“Kirishima kissed you back, Katsuki. There’s obviously more to it.”

“It was a fluke.” He said, more to himself than to her. “It was the alcohol, and adrenaline, and I was just there…if it had been Mina there, or any fucking girl, I’m sure the same thing would’ve happened.” 

“Would it have?” She challenged. “Katsuki, do you remember what happened last time you tried to hook up with a girl?” 

He felt his body tense up and an apology formed on his lips, bur he swallowed it. Half-way through their second year, Uraraka and Bakugou had been sparring, when the girl knocked him down and pinned him with her knees. It was a goddamn impressive move, and Bakugou went to tell her so – that she had been improving, when her lips crashed down onto him and shocked him into silence. 

He responded to the kiss, as one does. He wrapped his arms around her and slipped his tongue into her mouth. It was sloppy, awkward, messy, but it was something Uraraka clearly wanted. He went along with it, waiting for his body to react to the stimulation, but it didn’t. He had stopped Uraraka, and with a pained look in his eye told her that he couldn’t do it, that the attraction wasn’t there. 

It had hurt her ego – he couldn’t explain why it wasn’t there. She was an objectively stunning woman. Every guy in the school would kill to be with her, but he couldn’t force himself to feel things that he didn’t, and he hated himself for it. 

His body had had the same lack of reaction with Jirou, but not with Kirishima. His body had reacted like Kirishima was air that he needed to breathe, and if he removed his lips from him, he would surely suffocate. His hands moved on his own accord, needing to explore every inch of the redhead, to feel the heat on his skin. 

It was so fundamentally different than what he felt with Uraraka and Jirou that it was dizzying. She had come to understand, in her own way, why he didn’t want to be with her, and had forgiven him for it – something which Bakugou was eternally grateful for. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself in situations like these if it weren’t for Uraraka. 

“Katsuki?” She prompted him kindly. Kind-hearted and sweet, with an undertone of fire, that was Uraraka. If he could’ve just forced himself to want her in the way she wanted him, it would all be so easy. He didn’t want that though – his body and his mind were working together to ensure he was completely crazy for the wrong person. He couldn’t be with Kirishima, no matter how right it felt to wrap his arms around his toned body, or how much he wanted to spend every moment kissing him senseless. It was wrong, and he would suppress it, much like he had learned to suppress all the other uncomfortable and frightening feelings he had throughout his life. There was no room for showing weakness when you were aiming for the top. “Kirishima is going through the same thing you went through with me. He’s confused, but anyone with eyes can see that he loves you.”

“I – I don’t know.” Bakugou answered lamely. “Kirishima….Kirishima is important to me. I just screwed things up. I don’t know what to do.” His voice broke on the last word and he cursed himself for it.

“You didn’t screw anything up, sweetheart.” She whispered. “All you have to do is tell him how you feel.”

“How I feel? I told you – it was a mistake.” He forced the words from down his throat to the open air, even though his brain was fighting letting them out. “I can’t – I don’t. I just want things to go back to how they were. Before this fucking trip. I don’t want…to lose him.” 

He let out a shaky breath and Uraraka moved her hands to his shoulders, trying to rub the tension out of them. “Couldn’t I – couldn’t I just pass it off as a drunken hook up and never talk about it again – that happens, right? You ever accidentally drunkenly made out with one of your girl friends?”

“Of course I have, but I’m not in love with them.” She said simply. “Katsuki, please. This was not an accident. You and Kirishima have been exuding sexual tension for the entire time we’ve been here. Actually, for like the past two years. Watching you guys fight is…phew. It’s a show for sure.”

“Oi, you pervert.” He threw his arm up and smacked her forehead lightly. Her laugh rang out and he felt himself relax enough to smile. He was sobering up now, and the thoughts weren’t assaulting him as heavily as they had been earlier. He was still confused and stressed and had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to say to Kirishima, but he could at least think slightly straighter. “You…you think he does like me?”

“Of course he likes you, but he has to figure himself out before he can accept that fact. He’s gotta…clear things up with Mina.” Uraraka sighed. “It’s going to be messy.”  

Bakugou didn’t want to think about that – he couldn’t comprehend any of it. Kirishima actually wanting him, really wanting him, would be too good to be true. He didn’t want to be disappointed. “Can I sleep in here tonight? Just tell Pikachu to take my bed – he won’t mind.” He would make sure he didn’t mind.

“Katsuki.” Uraraka chastised him. She was probably rolling her damn eyes. “You have to face this at some point. You still have another week here and then another year or more with Kirishima. You can’t run away from it.” She slapped his chest twice in quick succession. “Besides, I’m trying to get laid.”

“Ah, damn it, Round Face! I don’t want to hear about it!” He growled.

“Had to get you out of this room somehow.” He felt her shrug. “Come on. I’ll walk with you. It’ll be fine.” 

-x-

Kirishima felt nothing but emptiness. His stomach felt like he hadn’t eaten in six weeks, and he loved eating. His throat was dry, his eyes were red, and his muscles felt like Jell-O. He couldn’t get the feel of Bakugou’s lips off of his, couldn’t get his betrayed, angry face out of his mind. He had finally gotten what he wanted – he had finally kissed Bakugou, and then his world had crashed down around him. It was karma, Kirishima was sure, for being the worst person he knew. He didn’t deserve Mina as a friend, and he sure didn’t deserve Bakugou as anything more.

Now, he would lose both of them.

“Kiri, you in here?”

Kirishima’s eyes widened at the knock, and he aggressively wiped the tears from his face. He cleared his throat, trying to find the voice that he had long since cried out. “Y – yeah, I’m here.” It came out strangled and pathetic.

The door creaked open, and Kaminari came in. He was in his pajamas – sweatpants and shirtless, but he wore a casual smile. As soon as he saw Kirishima’s face, however, it dropped. “Aw, man, what did he do to you?”

He? What did Kaminari know?
“Uh, what do you mean, bro? I’m fine.” Kirishima’s voice cracked, betraying him.

“Kiri,” Kaminari sat on the bed, “I know that I have a reputation for being an idiot, but I’m smarter than I seem. I’m really perceptive, actually.” He said. “I’ve been waiting for you talk to me about things, but you’re slow, dude.

“I’m…what?” Kirishima sniffled. He felt so disoriented. He hadn’t been able to stop crying and overthinking since Bakugou walked out on him, telling Kirishima not to follow. He should’ve kept his mouth shut; he should’ve just held onto Bakugou tighter, proved to him how much he loved him, but his damn conscious wouldn’t let him.

How had he let himself get so twisted? How had he managed to hurt two of the people who meant the most to him? Mina didn’t know, but he knew he couldn’t keep lying to her. He would have to tell her the truth – all of it, and when he did, he knew that she would be devastated.

“Well, for one thing, you’re gay.” Kaminari said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Kirishima could do nothing but gape at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve known since, like, the first minute I met you, but I wanted you tell me on your own terms.”

Kirishima was ripped from his thoughts at Kaminari’s statement. He thought he kept it hidden well. “Is it that obvious?” Kirishima bit his lip.

“No, I told you, I’m perceptive. And you’re my best friend. It’s clearly not that obvious, because you have a girlfriend. I was a little surprised about that particular situation.”

“Ahh.” Kirishima buried his face in his hands, and the dam broke once more. “I’m a terrible person, Kami – the worst. I just…I screwed everything up. Big time. Now Mina is gonna hate me, and Bakugou is gonna hate me, and I’m – ” He broke off into a sob. He couldn’t help it. The tears wouldn’t stop. He was going to dehydrate himself.

“Oh my God, Kirishima.” Kaminari grabbed Kirishima’s hands and pulled him down onto the bed with him. “No one in their right mind would ever be able to hate you. You’re sunshine personified. You got Bakugou to like you – he literally doesn’t like anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Kirishima protested weakly through sniffles and sobs. “He likes Uraraka, and Jirou…”

“Not like he likes you – he’s around you all the time. Like, by his own choice, not because you won’t leave him alone.” Kaminari said. “I saw him tonight, dude, he was staring at you.” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter now.” Kirishima said, pouting. “I ruined it. I – he kissed me. He kissed me tonight, and it was incredible, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong it was. Mina thinks I really like her, and this whole time I’ve been – I’m horrible.”

“You know, if anyone can bounce back from this, it’s Mina.” Kaminari smiled a little. “She’s gonna be mostly mad that you’ve been denying yourself this whole time. She loves you, and she’s gonna want you to be happy. I promise, she’ll be over it in like, five minutes. She’ll probably get with Sero again – he talks about her enough.”

“She…wouldn’t hate me for lying?” Kirishima couldn’t wrap his head around it. Of course Mina would hate him – Kirishima wouldn’t blame her for it. He deserved it. He would’ve hated himself for it.

“She’s gonna be embarrassed, but she’s not going to hate you.” Kaminari assured him. “And neither is Bakugou – dude, I really oughta slap you, because Bakugou just showed up at my door crying.”

“Your door?” Kirishima was shocked.

“Not for me. Uraraka may or may not have been in my room, and in my bed, and Bakugou may have interrupted us,” he huffed out a sigh, “But that’s not important! What’s important is that he was a wreck. I’ve never seen Bakugou cry before and I really never want to see it again. It was scary and weird, like seeing the devil himself shed a tear.”

“I hurt him.” Kirishima’s heart sank. “I love him, Kami. I love him so much. I’ve always loved him. I tried to change that – I tried to make myself feel something different but it always comes back to him.”

“Then tell him that, dude! It’s not that hard.” Kaminari rubbed his eyes. “Communication, man, even I know that. Everyone in this school needs a communication coach. Did you know I just told Uraraka how I felt about her, and guess what? It worked out well. All of your problems right now are because you suck ass at talking to people. Want to hire me as a coach?”

“No thanks.” Kirishima rolled his eyes, but the tears had stopped flowing. “I can’t talk to him. I can’t…I can’t face him after that.”

“You can and you will, because you share a room with him and you aren’t crashing in mine. Love you, man, but I can’t get cockblocked any further.”

"You’re actually the worst friend ever.”

"Revisit that statement after you’ve figured this out with my help.” Kaminari said. “I’m going to help you and Bakugou get your shit together, and then maybe he’ll stop looking at me like he wants to use me as explosion practice and maybe you’ll smile again.”

“I smile all the time.” Kirishima protested, and Kaminari fixed him with a disbelieving look.

"Yeah, but ever since we got to this beach, they’ve been fake smiles. I miss the real ones, my man. They’re cute.”

Kirishima snorted. “Thanks.”

Kaminari jumped up from his spot on the bed, suddenly overcome with a frenetic energy. “Okay, you’re going to tell me the whole story – please keep out any graphic details, I’m only a boy – and then we’re going to make a plan that will end with neither Mina nor Bakugou hating you, alright?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.” Kirishima said, but his hopelessness had already begun to fade. He had to cling to something – there had to be a way out of this. “But I’m willing to try anything.”

"Then listen well, my friend. Let’s figure this shit out, and let’s get that smile back.”

Chapter Text

Kirishima hated weakness. It seemed to follow him, burrowing itself into his brain and coming out at the most inopportune times, reminding him that for all of the effort he had made over these two years, he was still nothing but that same scared, middle school boy who hadn’t thought he was strong enough to get into UA – the same boy who knew exactly who he was, and still chose to hide it away from the world, preferring to put on an act.

He was sick of it. He was sick of giving into it, of letting it control him and push him into situations like this. If he could just suck up his insecurities and be a damn man, then all of this could have been avoided. He had spent his whole life thinking that he was broken, lesser, weak and he had hurt everyone who had been caught up in his own issues.

Well, maybe he was too late to take things back, but he could fix them. He could. He had spent the last hour and a half discussing it with Kaminari. It was really more of a half hour pep talk while Kirishima bawled his eyes out, but towards the end, he began to really listen, and Kaminari’s words resonated with him. He was in his second year at UA – he had a great internship, decent grades, and friends who would love him despite his sexual preference. He was ridiculous to think otherwise.

His eyes burned a hole into the door while Kaminari talked, wondering if thoughts alone could be enough to make Bakugou walk through the door. 

He didn’t, and Kirishima let Kaminari’s words resonate as truth, overwriting the lies he had told himself through the years. 

Then, they planned. It was a simple plan that Kaminari came up with, really – one that Kirishima should’ve just enacted from the beginning. He needed to talk to Mina. He needed to lay everything on the table – to just be completely honest with her, and pray that she that she would still want to be his friend afterwards. He would let her punch him as many times as she wanted – maybe melt an eyebrow off with his acid. He deserved it, and he could take the physical pain. It would be the emotional pain of losing one of his best friends that he wouldn’t be able to handle.

Their plan was why he was where he was right now – outside of Mina’s door at nearly three in the morning. Mina was a night owl by nature, so he was hoping she was still awake. Her general drunk behavior would be for her to take a nap to stave off her intoxication before waking back up to scroll the internet for several hours. When they had first become friends, Kirishima had been forced to chug many an energy drink just to keep up with her in the wee hours of the morning, but as they grew in closeness, he got used to her preferred hours of bonding. If things were normal between them, they would probably be watching a movie right now – all of them. He would be sandwiched in-between her and Bakugou, holding the popcorn bowl they would all share. Bakugou would be grumbling about their movie choice, Sero would be throwing popcorn at him, and Mina and Kaminari would be quoting every scene word-for-word. Kirishima would pretend the blush in his cheeks that came from being so close to Bakugou had just been from the heat of the room, and not the heat of Bakugou’s body so close to his.

Things had been good then – before this trip, before he made them weird. 

He still had hope that he could fix it. He just had to make Mina understand, then he could work on Bakugou.

He knocked gingerly on the door, praying that Hagakure had decided to spend the night with Ojiro. Based on his fuzzy memories from last night, that was probably a safe bet, but Kirishima knew from experience that she had a bad attitude when she was woken up. Although, when the door opened a few moments later and he was met only with a softly-smiling Mina, he found himself wishing that the good-natured Hagakure was there to act as a buffer.

“Hey, Ei,” Mina greeted him. There was a hint of sadness in her voice and it caused Kirishima’s heart to plummet. She shouldn’t be sad – he hadn’t said anything yet. She should be happy to see him. Unless – no, there was no way. “Come on in.”

Her room was empty, the laptop on her bed paused on a scene from one of their favorite movie, one that they had watched together many times instead of studying for various tests. She looked at him with expectant eyes and he took a deep breath. It would be best just to get it over with. “Hey, I came to – ”

“I know,” Mina interrupted him. She was always the type to interrupt. Word vomit, she called it. It stopped his heart now. “About you and Bakugou. I know.”

Kirishima was sure that all traces of color had drained from his face. He felt his mouth drop open, but he couldn’t formulate words to answer her. He could only stare, panic gathering in his stomach, trying to understand how in the world she could possibly know. It was so quick – it had been too quick, over before anything had really started. How would anyone have known?

If the rest of the class found out – 

“Ei, you look like you’re going to have a meltdown. Take a deep breath,” Mina commanded him. Kirishima sucked in air through his mouth then blew it out through his nose. His head was spinning again, like he had just taken another big gulp of his drink from earlier. He couldn’t think – he could only focus on breathing. He could feel the sweat beginning to gather on his forehead and he knew he must’ve looked like a wreck. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes once more.

Mina pursed her lips, then sighed. Kirishima couldn’t read her expression. It was not angry, but it was painfully neutral. “Toru saw you two. In the hot tub. You know how she is when she’s drunk, Ei, she takes off her clothes and sneaks around. She was looking for you, actually,” she frowned. “I wanted to see you and I guess she got sick of me whining about it. She kinda freaked when she saw you with your tongue down Bakugou’s throat,” she let out a curt laugh, “so she slammed the door and ran. Then she came and told me. I told her to shut up about it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Kirishima could hardly hear her over the rushing of blood to his ears. Hagakure had seen – Mina knew. She knew everything.

He had to say something.

 “No, that’s not, that’s not what I’m worried about – I – I wanted to tell you – I – ” He couldn’t keep himself from stammering. He was pathetic.

“Did you think I would tell everyone if I knew? That’s why you just went along with being my boyfriend?” Mina was not the type to cry – she was too strong for that. Kirishima had always admired her unwavering strength. She stared him down now, her emotions kept firmly in check, simply demanding answers.

“That’s not why I did – ” He stopped himself. He wouldn’t lie to Mina anymore. That had been his resolve. He took a shuddering sigh and squared his shoulders. “Yes,” he said. “I was afraid that if I told anyone that it would get out. I didn’t want that.”

“Are you ashamed of who you are, Ei?” Mina cocked her head to the side. The question was so simple. Kirishima didn’t have an answer. “You shouldn’t be. We’re best friends, aren’t we? That’s what I thought – I thought we were best friends, and this is something a best friend should know.”

“I was scared,” Kirishima whispered, a cloud of remorse overwhelming him. “I thought…if people knew, they’d look at me differently. I thought they’d think I was less of a man, or that they wouldn’t want to be my friend, or that I wouldn’t be able to be a hero.” Saying it all out loud was mortifying.

“So, you used me to keep your secret. Without telling me.” Mina’s cheeks were a darker purple than usual. “I would’ve – I would’ve been your beard, Ei, like, you know I would’ve. I would’ve gotten over the fact that you didn’t like me – especially if it’s because you’re gay, but why did you have to lie to me? Why would I of all people judge you?” The frustration in her voice was evident. “I mean, like, I might’ve had some opinions about you choosing Bakugou, but I would’ve gotten over that. He’s hot, so I get why you like him, and as long as he’s nice to you, I wouldn’t have cared, but you lied to me, Ei! You used me. That’s so shitty.” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Kirishima burst out. This wasn’t going according to plan – he was way off-script, and way too emotional. There was too much at stake, he was probably still a little drunk; he was going to screw this up. “I thought that if I just didn’t tell anyone, then maybe I could pretend it wasn’t true! I don’t want to be this, Mina – I never wanted to be this! I want to be normal.” His voice broke on the last syllable and then the tears he had been holding back started to fall. Everything that Kaminari had convinced him of was crashing down, being beaten down by intrusive thoughts. He didn’t deserve him as a friend, Mina as a friend, or Bakugou in any capacity.

“Tough shit, Ei! You better stop crying!” Mina shouted back, getting right up in his face. Kirishima stared down at her, tears falling, but he didn’t back down. He had done this to himself and he couldn’t run away from it. “This,” she gestured to him, “is not who you are. You are not weak. You are not a liar. You are not someone who hides behind others. You are who you fucking are! We all are, and if you told me about this earlier, then I would’ve helped you through it – but instead you took advantage of me, and I’m really pissed off about it!”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never – I should’ve –”

“You should’ve done a lot of things,” Mina snapped. “But that doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”

Kirishima hung his head in shame. She was right. He couldn’t take anything back.

I forgive you,” Mina said, tilting his chin upwards so he was no longer looking at the floor. “Eijirou. Jesus Christ. I love you, okay? I’m always going to love you. You’re always going to be my best friend in the world, but next time you need me to cover for your sexuality, give me a damn heads up. And you’re going to be making up for this for the rest of your life – I’m talking paying for my lunch until we die.” 

"I’ll do anything to make it up to you, Mina. I promise.”

“Yeah, I know you will. That’s the kinda person you are,” she released her hold on him and rubbed her temple. “You’re a good person, Ei. You’re just kind of a wreck right now, and like, I get it, we’ve all been wrecks over guys,” she sighed. “I feel pretty stupid for throwing myself at you.”

“Don’t!” He cried. “I mean, you shouldn’t. If I was into girls at all – I’d be all over you. You’re hot. Objectively.” 

Mina snorted out a laugh. “Thanks, honey. I guess if I have to compete with someone like Bakugou, then I really never had a chance. Weirdly enough, a lot of girls are into him.” 

Kirishima bit his lip. “He’d probably be better off with them. He’s really mad at me and I doubt he’ll ever want to talk to me again.”

"I doubt Bakugou can go forty-five seconds without wanting to talk to you. He, like, gravitates towards you,” Mina said. Then she hummed. “You know, I probably should’ve realized that sooner. Bakugou is around you all the time…I used to think it was because you’re the only one who fully tolerates him, but now I get it. He likes you.”

“Maybe he did,” Kirishima sighed. 

"What did you even do to piss him off? Toru said you two were, like, seriously lip-locked.” 

Kirishima’s cheeks burned. He didn’t want to think about how much Hagakure had actually seen. “I said your name. I was trying to tell him that we couldn’t do anything because it wouldn’t be fair to you, but you know I’m not the best with words.”

“Yeah, you’re not,” Mina agreed. “Good thing you’re the hardest person in the world to be mad at though. Bakugou doesn’t stand a chance against those puppy dog eyes.” She grabbed his wrists and pulled him into a hug. Kirishima gasped, but then buried his head in her hair. This was familiar. Mina squeezed him around the middle. “I’m sorry you thought you had to hide who you are from me.”

“’S not your fault,” he mumbled into her curls.

“It’s all of our faults for not seeing it sooner – you play a really convincing straight man.”

“I just act like me,” he shrugged. “Kaminari said he knew.”

“Huh,” Mina pulled back and stared. “That’s funny, if I would’ve pegged any of you for gay it would’ve been Denki.”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that one…” Kirishima trailed off, realizing he probably shouldn’t be saying anything, but it was too late – Mina was hooked.

“Do you know something? Spill it, Eijirou. Get on the bed. I have some leftover candy from our trip and at least an hour and a half until I’ll be ready to pass out. Let’s hear the details.”

And just like that – it was so easy to fall back into what they had been. Mina wasn’t unwilling to forgive Kirishima. She still wanted to be his friend. His heart was soaring. They gossiped about Kaminari and Uraraka, filling in the details they didn’t know with wild assumptions, laughing and cringing when they got to be too graphic. They took turns plunging their hands into the bag of chocolate, Kirishima feeling fuller than he had all night. When Mina asked for “steamy details” about him and Bakugou, Kirishima smacked her hand. 

“I can’t think about that right now, Mina, I’m having a crisis.” 

"Do you love him?

Kirishima startled at the question. All of his memories with Bakugou swirled back into his head – the swim lessons, the cuddling and the kiss, but also the ones that came before: the fear and desperation when Bakugou was kidnapped, the way he grabbed his hand when he called for him, the long nights afterwards, staying up late to stave off the nightmares. He could picture clearly in his head Bakugou’s smile – when he first experienced it, it had sent butterflies through his stomach. He couldn’t understand why at the time, but he knew the smile was rare, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life chasing it. Bakugou smiled more often these days, and Kirishima treasured each one. He wanted to be the cause of it. “Yeah.”

“He better treat you right,” she said, “or I’ll come for him.”

Kirishima smiled. He felt lighter. “Thanks, Mina. I’ll let him know.”

“You can sleep here tonight if you’re not ready to tell him.” 

Kirishima nodded, grateful, and then let out a monumental yawn. He was exhausted, truly, the adrenaline and anxiety finally draining out of him in the presence of his best friend. In the morning, he would have to talk to Bakugou, and the idea of it made his nerves flare, but he had his friends. They loved him for who he was. He could do anything. 

-x-

Bakugou managed to stall Uraraka for long enough that by the time they got back to his and Kirishima’s room, only Kaminari was there, lying on his bed playing a game on his phone. 

“Thank God. Can I have my room back now?” He whined, sitting up straight and rubbing his eyes. 

“No, fuck off,” Bakugou said and Uraraka clicked her tongue.

“Don’t be rude, Katsuki,” she scolded him and Bakugou grumbled under his breath. They had spent the past hour walking along the beach, Uraraka casually talking him through one of the most difficult and confusing damn situations of his life like it was just another day. She maintained that calm, chipper demeanor and somehow it actually worked in tricking Bakugou’s drink-addled and fucking emotional brain. He had begun to relax at her words, and really let them seep in.

Who really would give a fuck if he was gay? He was Bakugou Katsuki. No one would dare say anything to his face about it, and if they talked behind his back, he would find out and kill them. He would kill anyone who said anything to Kirishima, too. He wouldn’t let anyone give them shit. Uraraka had assured him time and time again that nobody would judge him, that nobody at all would care, but she agreed to assist in the ass-kicking if necessary. 

The whole thing made him feel a little better, but he still had a damn, annoying, ever-present hole in his stomach that was caused by Kirishima. No matter how many times Uraraka insisted that he liked him, he was just confused, he was an idiot, Bakugou still wasn’t convinced. He knew Kirishima was an idiot, but he was also honest. He couldn’t lie for shit – so how would he have lied for so long?

Bakugou was probably just a drunken hook up. He had practically thrown himself at Kirishima, so what the fuck was he supposed to do? Heat of the moment and shit.

Uraraka said he was making excuses so that he wouldn’t have to talk to Kirishima about his feelings, but the truth was, Bakugou wanted to fucking tell him. He wanted to hold him by his shoulders and scream into his stupid face that he was crazy about him, that he wanted to be with him and no one else, and he didn’t give a single fuck what anyone had to say about it. He wanted to kiss him again, but sober, so he would be able to memorize every detail without a hint of fuzziness in his brain. He wanted to be able to play it back in his head in high definition, reveling in the warm feel of his lips, the grip of his hands on Bakugou’s arms, the small noises that Bakugou would draw out of him. He wanted him so bad – more so than anything he had ever wanted in his life; more so than being the number one hero. 

It was a new feeling and Bakugou sucked at feelings. He didn’t know how to handle the fact that he wanted to spend all of his time with Kirishima, or that he wanted to hold his hand, or when they watched those shitty actions movies together, he wanted to throw his arm around him and pull his head onto his chest. If it was just a drunken hook up, they could move on from it. If Bakugou was just physically attracted to Kirishima, it would be fine. It could all be easy, but of course, Bakugou could never make things fucking easy on himself. 

He knew he had to talk to Kirishima though. He at least owed him that. If he couldn’t have him, then fine, he could suck it up, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle losing him all together.

“Where’s Kirishima?” Bakugou asked now, giving Kaminari a dangerous glare. Uraraka had absolutely refused to answer any questions about what she had done with that idiot, but he was sure it was something she would regret later. 

“He’s fixing his life,” Kaminari explained coolly. “You need a therapy sesh too? Sit down, I gotchu.” 

“He already got one,” Uraraka interjected.

“Shut it, Round Face,” Bakugou grumbled. “What do you mean fixing his life?”

“He’s doing what he should’ve done a long time ago,” Kaminari said. “He’s talking to Mina.”

Bakugou’s heart fell to his stomach. He kept eye-contact with Kaminari, trying to read the emotions behind the yellow. “What did he tell you?”

“You gotta talk to him yourself, man,” Kaminari said, and he must’ve seen the look on Bakugou’s face because he held up his hands. “Don’t go jumping to any conclusions though. It’s not my business to tell you what Kiri told me, but –” he sighed and gave Uraraka a long-suffering look, like he really didn’t want to be in this situation. That made two of them. “Look, I know you’re not my biggest fan, but trust me when I say that I want the best for Kiri; I want him to be happy and you…you make him happy. Mina is his friend, and she makes him happy too, but not like you do. It’s a big, big difference. He gets all mushy when he talks about you – it’s kinda disgusting. Except for right now he’s kinda freaking out. Right now he thinks you hate him.”

“Thought you weren’t telling him Kiri’s business,” Uraraka giggled, like he was being endearing. 

 “Ahh, I’m just so tired, stuff slips out,” Kaminari gave her a crooked smile, not looking the least bit guilty. “I’m on your side, man,” he said to Bakugou. “I always have been, honestly. I’ve just been trying to be your friend, and I know you hate to hear it, but if things get serious with Kiri, you’re gonna be stuck with me.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Lucky me.” Then he paused and let out a sigh, hating what he was about to do. “Fuckin’….thanks, Pikachu. For talking to him and shit. I didn’t mean to make him so upset.” 

Kaminari’s face lit up like a damn lightbulb. “Shit, man. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. We’re making progress.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”  

“I’ll make us friendship bracelets tomorrow.”

Bakugou scowled and both Uraraka and Kaminari burst into laughter. 

 “What am I supposed to say to him?” He asked, mostly to himself, but they heard. Uraraka frowned, but Kaminari stood up and patted Bakugou on the shoulder.

“You say,” he deepened his voice by several octaves and made it hoarse, imitating Bakugou, “I love you, you shitty-haired idiot. I was too stupid to realize it before because I was caught up in an identity crisis and internalized homophobia. You’re an idiot too. We’re both idiots, but we love each other. And then you kiss.” 

“You still fuckin’ drunk?”

 “Little bit,” Kaminari admitted, “but nothing sobers you up like giving two of your bros love advice.” 

“Get the fuck out of my room,” Bakugou said, “and go back to your own.”

“Katsuki, you’re not my father, dear God.” Uraraka whacked him on the back of the head. Kaminari giggled like a school girl.

 “You know, I’m glad you’re gay. I used to think you were my competition for this one,” he threw an arm around Uraraka, “but I can totally handle the overprotective gay friend.”

 “You want me to escort you out of the room with my goddamn fists?” 

 “Leaving,” Kaminari bowed. “Hoping to see you and Kiri tomorrow sharing an omelet at breakfast and looking deeply into each other’s eyes.”

 “Don’t push it, Denki,” Uraraka said seriously, “Katsuki is sensitive.”

Bakugou shoved them both out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He didn’t know what the fuck time it was, but he knew he was about ready to pass out from exhaustion. He would never admit it out loud, but hearing Kaminari’s words had soothed him. He may have found him to be an insufferable idiot, but Kaminari was one of Kirishima’s closest friends. He knew him, and he had no reason to lie to Bakugou.               

Bakugou didn’t understand feelings. He didn’t get why the fuck he wanted Kirishima in this way, but maybe things would be okay. Maybe they could figure it out together. 

He collapsed backwards into his bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. 

-x-

Bakugou woke up to a crash and a string of profanities hissed into the air. When he opened his eyes, Kirishima was staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, his foot tangled in a pile of his own clothing that he had spent the past week discarding all over the floor.

"Uh, sorry to wake you,” he said awkwardly. “I was just…getting my stuff….then I’ll go.”

“It’s your room, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou sighed. “You don’t need to leave.”

Kirishima looked like he was analyzing every single option humanly possible that would let him avoid this conversation and each seemed to be more panic-inducing than the last. Finally, he choked out, “you told me not to follow you.”

Bakugou huffed out a sigh. “Again, your fuckin’ room,” he paused, “and that was last night.”

“What do you mean?”

"I mean I just…said shit last night,” he grunted. “You don’t need to fuckin’ avoid me.” He didn’t want Kirishima to avoid him, but, fuck, talking about things was way harder than imagining talking about things. When Kirishima was right in front of him like this, he could hardly form a functional thought. It was so stupid. 

He was so shit with words. He communicated better with action.

“I – I’m sorry,” Kirishima said. “I shouldn’t have – I didn’t mean to – we don’t have to –”

“I’m not sorry,” Bakugou said. Telling the truth was easier than he thought. He hadn't even really meant to say it, but it burst out of him like a broken dam. His brain seemed to subconsciously want to speed up this process. Maybe he was sick of beating around the bush when he could just say things. It didn’t take flowery language to get his point across, but when he saw Kirishima’s face fall, he realized he might not have said the right thing. “Fuck, I mean – I don’t regret it.”

Kirishima’s cheeks flared bright red. "I – I don’t either. I regret ruining it, but everything before that – that was great.”

Bakugou snorted and Kirishima cracked a small smile before continuing on. “Bakugou, I really screwed up. I started dating Mina because I was ashamed of who I am. I was trying to hide it – hide the fact that…I’m gay. I was afraid that I would mess our friendship up if you knew that I was...that I thought...I was kind of...interested in you.”

He looked up at Bakugou through an expression that could only be considered bashful. The moron was embarrassed that he was confessing to Bakugou. It was unbelievably fucking…cute. Bakugou wanted to wrap his arms around him and pull him backwards onto the bed.

"You talk to the alien freak about it?” Bakugou asked, noncommittal.

"Yeah,” Kirishima said. “She was okay – a little pissed off at me, but we’ll be alright. She said...” he laughed, "she said you have to treat me well."

"Like I would ever treat you badly," Bakugou scoffed, and his cheeks warmed after he realized what he had said. Kirishima tried and failed to hide his smile. Bakugou knew it was now his time to speak. He stretched his arms behind his head and then fixed Kirishima with a piercing stare. “I’m fucking gay too, I guess. I don’t fucking know what I am, really. I just know…I like you, alright? I didn’t really figure it out until this week and I’m still fucking figuring it out, so – whatever. I don't need to put a label on it, but I don’t regret kissing you. I would do it again.”

“You would?” Kirishima took one step towards the bed, then another, and another. “Even now that you’re sober?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Yes, Shitty Hair. Even when I’m sober,” he paused, and then murmured, “especially when I’m sober.”

“What about right now?” Kirishima’s excitement was spreading, radiating off of him in that cheerful puppy type of way. “Could I kiss you right now?”

“Idiot. You can kiss me as much as you want.”

Kirishima’s grin was blinding – brighter than the damn sun. Bakugou allowed himself to take it in for just a moment, before closing his eyes and letting their lips meet.