Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning went by slowly. Katsuki woke up before the alarm had the chance to go off, but his eyes remained closed. The bitter cold of his bedroom had him curling up deeper into his comforter. The world was eerily silent this early in the morning, but that never bothered him. He’d always enjoyed the moments where he could relax and forget that everything else existed.

He was barely on the edge of drifting back to sleep when his alarm finally blared. His eyes flickered open and he rushed to turn it off without slamming his hand on the snooze button. He wasn’t eager to disturb the silence even further with his usual explosive temper. He sat up and squinted out the window. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but its light was touching the edges of the sky.

With a quiet groan, he threw the comforter off and stood to get dressed. His usual routine involved an early round of training, a shower, breakfast and then class. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be training that day. Instead, he pulled on a pair of running shoes and clipped a water bottle to his side. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his phone and a pair of headphones he’d borrowed from Ears. He selected a calming playlist, chasing the peace that had been shattered by his shrieking alarm.

He snuck through the house soundlessly. He cringed at the volume of the kitchen sink as he hastily filled his water bottle. Once it was full, he turned off the stream with a tap to the handle using the back of his hand. He stood still and listened for just a moment. The only sound in the house was the faint music drifting from the headphones around his neck. With a breath of relief, he crept out the front door and inched it closed as quietly as possible.

Anyone who knew Katsuki might say this behavior was out of character for him. He would say they could fuck off and die.

Jogging wasn’t nearly as satisfying as his usual workouts were, but he didn’t mind it all too much that day. He couldn’t help but feel like it was a much-needed break from everything, just like Aizawa had described before they left for their winter break. The teacher had told the class to take this time to relax. He’d said they went through so many battles in such a short amount of time, they deserved this chance to have a moment to themselves. It was a sentiment that no one had expected from him, but that everyone was grateful for.

Everyone except for one person. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to think back on those words with resentment in his heart. How could the man have known that Katsuki’s home was a battle too?

When he got back to the house, the sun had already risen above the horizon. He could see the curtains open wide, and his parents standing in the kitchen. His shoulders sagged in relief. Showering without waking them was a task that he hadn’t been excited for. He schooled his expression to show something between tired and bored, and walked through the door. He mumbled out a quiet, G’morning, as he passed the kitchen, and went straight to his bathroom.

He turned the water up as high as it would go, which wasn’t very high at all, thanks to his mother’s handiwork. They’d learned a long time ago that his preference in temperature was more expensive than they could afford. He could swear it got colder and colder over time, like she was going in and adjusting it when he wasn’t looking. The lukewarm water hit his skin and caused an involuntary shudder. Between the chill of his room and this, he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t caught a cold yet. He leaned back slightly to let the water run over his hair and allowed himself to get lost in thought.

Being so polite and considerate ate away at something deep inside him, but he wasn’t about to test his mother’s patience that day. He’d been invited to go out to breakfast with ‘the squad,’ and he was desperate for any excuse to get away. He was also, a little less admittedly, desperate for the new kind of normalcy that the group had created for him. There was nothing that would get in the way of his plans, and if he had to go one morning without the petty relief of slamming doors and stomping around to prove that, well, so be it.

Almost as soon as he finished getting dressed, his phone buzzed against the desk. Kirishima was informing him that everyone was waiting for him outside. He sent a quick text back to let him know he was on his way out, then grabbed his wallet and coat. He shrugged the coat over his shoulders as he walked down the hallway.

It wasn’t that he didn’t expect it. He’d just allowed himself to hope that maybe his good behavior would be enough for once. That maybe if she couldn’t find anything wrong with him, she’d let him go without a fight. Still, despite all his efforts, her disappointed voice came from the living room.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The squad stood outside on the sidewalk waiting for Bakugou to walk through the front door. They were trying to be patient, but they did have a train to catch, and the explosive boy hadn’t read any of their texts in seven minutes.

“Didn’t he say he was coming?” Mina pouted. “He couldn’t have lost his wallet, right?”

“Ah, no, that’s not like him,” Kirishima mumbled, typing furiously on his phone. “Maybe I should call him.”

Denki considered his options for a moment before nodding decisively. “I’m gonna peak.”

Jirou looked a little unfocused and held out a hand toward him. “I don’t think that’s…”

“Dude, you can’t!” Sero said, appalled. “That’s so impolite.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, already slinking across the front lawn.

He crouched low to the ground and snuck through the freshly cut grass. The curtains in the window looked like they’d been yanked hastily closed, and there was just enough space between them that he was certain he would be able to see something. He squeezed through the bushes, shuddering at the thought of spiders before he reminded himself that it was, in fact, still winter, so he was safe. For now.

He squinted between the curtains, careful to keep his head ducked below the window. Stealth wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but it didn’t look like there was anyone inside to notice him. The living room stood empty and silent. It was nothing like what he would have expected from the Bakugou household. He had the thought that maybe they were actually standing in front of the wrong house that whole time, and he almost turned around to shout the idea to the others, when an angry voice brought his attention to the doorway inside.

Standing there in the hallway, facing away from the living room with his hands clenched at his sides, was the boy in question. His back was stiff, and shoulders squared. Surprisingly enough, the voice hadn’t come from him. A woman stood in front of him, bearing a glare that was all too familiar. Her hair was just like his as well. There was no doubt that she was his mother.

“You think that just because you have time off from school it means you’re on vacation? Hah! You still have responsibilities.”

She leaned down to shout in his face, spraying him with spit unintentionally. Katsuki felt his fingernails carve crescents into his palm. The urge to wipe the moisture from his cheek was strong, but he was stronger. He wasn’t going to give her an inch of space to accuse him of disrespect.

She was already too close, but she took another step into his space anyways. “The kitchen should have been cleaned first thing, Katsuki! You already went out once without doing it, and now you want me to let you do that again?”

He ran through the past week in his head, trying to figure out exactly what she meant by that. It took him a moment to connect that she was referring to his run that morning. She was upset with him for not cleaning the kitchen at five in the morning. As if she wouldn’t have been just as upset to be awoken by the sounds of clanging pots and glass plates clicking together.

“How am I supposed to get anything done if you leave the place like this all day? I can’t cook like this! And to think I was planning on making dinner tonight, you ungrateful brat.”

Something in him snapped, and he forgot why he was trying so hard to be polite. His teeth clenched and he snarled up at her. “The dishes aren’t fucking going anywhere, you hag! I’ll be back before noon. Were you planning on cooking dinner now?”

His head whipped to the side and he found himself staring at the wall with slightly widened eyes. He registered the sting of the slap after the fact.

It was far from the first time she’d hit him. He was long since used to her whacking him on the back of the head, punching him on the shoulders, or even the occasional brutal pinch when he left a sensitive area exposed. An open-handed slap to the face felt different. The action was deeply personal. The disdain it held spoke for itself. His eyes prickled with tears, and he felt shame burn through him, from his quickly warming face all the way down to the pit of his stomach.

Then, her hands were on him again. One twisted in his hair, and the other gripped the bottom half of his face, squeezing his jaw hard enough for it to creak. It hurt, but his hands remained clenched at his sides, making no moves in self-defense. She turned his head so that he was forced to make eye contact again. He tried to counteract the look of his red face and unshed tears with a piercing glare, but she didn’t seem to notice any of it.

“You are going to clean up that mess before you get the privilege of going anywhere. Got it?” she asked, eerily calm.

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to control their moisture, then looked back up at her. “They’re already waiting outside,” he hissed through clenched teeth, voice muffled by her hand.

She scoffed. “Fuckin’ presumptuous brat. Tell them to either wait for you to finish, or fuck off and forget about you.”

His face burned even hotter and he glared. The idea of texting Kirishima and telling him to wait at least 30 extra minutes so that he could do chores first was humiliating. He wasn’t exactly in the position to argue, though. As he reached into his front pocket and pulled out his phone, she finally released him and stepped out of his space.

“And hurry up about it,” she muttered, stomping down the hallway into her bedroom.

He had 23 unread messages, mostly from Kirishima. He opened up the conversation and didn’t read any of them. Instead, he typed up a message as he shuffled into the kitchen.

I guess I have some shit to do. Go ahead without me. I’ll catch the next train.

He figured it was better than asking them to stand in front of his house until he was done, like the hag suggested. She had to know how ridiculous that request was, right? His phone buzzed in his hand. Kirishima was a quick texter.

If you’re sure. U ok bro?

Katsuki scoffed and shook his head.

Why wouldn’t I be?

Then, he put his phone down on the counter, far away from the sink, and set to work.

He managed to get everything done in record time. He wanted more than anything to leave the counters dirty or conveniently forget a cup in the sink as a final act of defiance, but he was also going to have to stay there one more night before he headed back to the dorms. She was already clearly in a bad mood. He would rather not listen to her shrieking at all hours of the night when he needed to get up early to pack.

He shuffled quietly over to the chair where he’d draped his coat and patted the pockets to make sure he’d remembered his wallet. He shrugged it on and snatched his phone off the counter. He crept down the hallway, hoping to avoid another round with the witch, and inched backwards out the door with the same method he’d used earlier that morning. The door clicked shut almost inaudibly, and he turned around.

He wasn’t alone on the porch. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Dunce-face and Ears staring at him. He tried to cover up his blush at the realization that they’d seen him creeping out the door like that by snarling. “The fuck are you still doing here?” he demanded “I told you all to go ahead of me.”

Dunce-face looked frantically between him and Ears. “Well—you see—”

“And leave you to walk all the way to the station on your own? What kind of friends would we be?” Ears interrupted him. She had a crooked smile and loose posture, with her hands shoved into her front pockets.

Katsuki glanced between them suspiciously, taking in their contradictory demeanors, then sneered at her. “I can walk by myself just fine, Ears. Used to do it all the time before the dorms.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to,” She said seriously as the smile fell from her lips. He got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t talking about the walk anymore.

He walked past them, feeling both of his shoulders brush against theirs, and started toward the station. “What’s this about.” He said it gruff and monotone, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

He heard the two jog to catch up until they were walking on either side of him. His face didn’t lift from its position, watching the lines in the sidewalk fly past as he sped up to keep a slight lead on them.

“Listen, Bakugou,” Ears started, and her voice was shaking. She was nervous. “I didn’t mean to, but… I heard everything.”

It took everything in him not to stop in his tracks. Anger rolled through him like a shudder. He didn’t look up. “And you, Dunce-face?”

He heard the boy clear his throat. He was standing much closer to him than Ears was. “Okay, so, I can explain.” He was already off to a bad start, and Katsuki could feel annoyance bloom in his chest. “We were all wondering where you were, you know? Because you weren’t answering your texts ‘n’ such. So, I got this great idea, that maybe I could take a peek to see what was taking you so long, and I’m really sorry if I, like, impeded on your privacy, but…”

Katsuki stopped listening. Ears, he could live with. She was a pretty relaxed person in general, and he knew he could trust her. Hearing something, though, was a whole lot different from seeing it. He thought back to how he stood there silently and listened to everything the hag said. He thought about the one time he opened his mouth, and her reaction to it. He wondered how his face must have looked, and if the other had seen it. He remembered how quickly he’d given in to her after that. How he’d let her win so easily.

The annoyance that had bloomed in him shifted into a deep rage that burned throughout his body. He turned to the boy and grabbed the front of his shirt to start shaking him. “You were fucking watching me?” he demanded. Dunce-face held up his hands in surrender as he was shaken. His eyes were squeezed shut and lips pressed together in an expression that only portrayed mild discomfort. It fueled his rage further. “The fuck are you, some sort of creep? Spying on personal conversations through the window? What made you think I’d be okay with that?”

Ears hovered a hand near his shoulder. “Easy, easy! He didn’t know! They thought maybe you lost something, and he was just being his nosy self. I didn’t know how to stop him without…” she trailed off, but the implication was obvious. She didn’t want to alert the rest that something was wrong. He squinted over at her nervous form. Her hand was still raised, just pulled back a little. A deep frown had settled over her features, but he could see fire in her eyes. He had no doubts that she’d hoped to have a conversation with just the two of them. He couldn’t even say he would have minded something like that.

Instead, he got the idiot in front of him, who now had a much more intimate knowledge of his home life than he was willing to share with anyone. He turned his head back toward him. “How much did you see?” he demanded.

Dunce-face squinted an eye open, as if checking to see if the assault was really over. “Enough,” he said, voice strained.

Katsuki released his shirt with a shove and snarled as he turned to speed toward the station again. “How is every dumb thing that comes out of your mouth twice as annoying as the last?” he grumbled, mostly to himself. Then, louder, “We’re gonna miss the train. Hurry up.”

The three of them walked in silence for a while. Katsuki made sure to keep a few paces ahead, and the others didn’t complain. He knew they still wanted to talk about it. The only reason they stayed silent was to avoid another outburst of anger from him. That is to say, they were afraid of him. He tried to push down his shame and revel in their fear like he normally would, but it just felt like a poorly executed lie. After everything that happened that week, or even just that day, he found himself disgusted by the idea of making other people feel the same way he did.

And, would you look at that. He just admitted to himself that she scared him. He wondered if the League of Villains would be disappointed to know how easy it really was to break him down when given enough time.

Ears was the one to break the silence, again, as they took their seats on the train. Katsuki had a seat to himself, and the other two took one directly in front of him, forcing him to watch as they turned around to look at him with their mixed expressions of concern. “I know you’re not one for opening up, or feelings talks, and I’m not going to force it on you. I just want you to know I’m here. So is Kaminari. We might not always know what to say,” she paused to send a pointed glare towards Dunce-face. “But we can always listen. So you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Dunce-face popped up and crossed his arms over the back of the seat. With seemingly little sense of self-preservation, he opened his mouth. “I promise, no one would think any less of you for this,” he said earnestly. Katsuki almost thought that was a good start, but unfortunately, he continued. “And, y’know, on top of the two of us you have Kirishima. He doesn’t know anything now, but I know you two are pretty close.” He paused and pursed his lips in thought, then made a pained expression. “Ah, if you talk to him, you’re probably gonna tell him about this, huh? He’s gonna be so mad when he finds out I let him go ahead of us like that…”

Katsuki stared at him dryly. He couldn’t even find it in him to get angry. He was just tired. Ears elbowed him and gave him a look. Dunce-face glanced between the two of them for a moment, then raised his hands frantically. “Not that I’m saying you shouldn’t tell Kirishima! You should definitely tell him everything that you’re, y’know, comfortable with sharing. It’s all on me if he’s mad, so I don’t mind, really.”

Ears buried her face in her hands. Katsuki gave him a glare. “I don’t give a shit if you mind. I’ll do what I want either way, Drooly,” he growled with less heat than he’d intended.

The tension between them seemed to fade a little after that. He wasn’t sure if it was because they could see his anger fading, or if he was making it up in his head. The subject wasn’t brought up again for the entire train ride, all the way up until they were at the doors of the restaurant. Ears tempted fate by grabbing his arm, and leaned close to whisper to him. “I know you don’t need help. I just need to know you understand that we’re here if you want it. Okay?”

He snatched his arm away and sneered. “You sound like Deku.” She laughed sheepishly and even looked a little embarrassed, until, “Okay.”

Her shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

They arrived at a table which was full of much more energy than it probably should’ve been at 9 in the morning. The three of them didn’t even need to ask any staff to guide them, they just followed the sounds of Mina shrieking, while Kirishima and Sero boomed with laughter. They still hadn’t ordered and only had nearly empty cups of water sitting on the table. As soon as Kirishima made eye-contact with Katsuki, he beamed and waved excitedly.

Soon enough, they all had food in front of them. The space was filled with the sounds of laughter and silverware clinking on glass. It was everything that Katsuki had worked so hard for that morning. He sat across from Kirishima and watched him tell a story of something that had happened that week, and found it took more effort than usual to keep the smile off his face.

The moment was shattered with a tiny “Oh!” from Dunce-face.

Katsuki’s head whipped over to glare at the boy, who was sitting at the opposite corner of the table. He dimly noticed that everyone else had stopped to look as well.

Dunce-face looked like a deer in headlights. “Ah, sorry, I just had a thought! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“What’s up, dude?” Sero asked casually.

Katsuki was already sure he knew what was coming, and that was before the idiot went and made eye-contact with him. His eyes were unsure, and he hesitated. Katsuki was so tired of hearing his stupid nervous rambling. The guy was annoying enough under normal circumstances, where he always seemed to be able to speak his mind without a second thought. In this situation, though, his confidence was clearly shaken. He wasn’t so sure of himself. Katsuki found himself once again reminded of Deku.

“Kacchan, do you think we could talk privately for a sec?” Dunce-face finally asked, glancing nervously around the table.

Katsuki’s nose wrinkled and his lips curled into a snarl. “If you can’t say it right here, I don’t want to hear it,” he growled.

Dunce-face swallowed and blinked at him. “Well, ah, in that case,” he started. Of course the idiot didn’t take the hint. He could feel the anger roll off himself in waves. “I actually have the house to myself tonight. I was thinking, maybe after breakfast we could go back to your place and get your things packed, and you could stay over?”

The anger overflowing in him faded. His brain grinded to a halt. It was probably silly, or weak, but the opportunity for escape had been laid out right in front of him. Maybe he would have preferred if it were Kirishima, or even Ears, but neither of them offered, and he’d die before he asked for something like that. It was too easy. All he had to do was say yes, and he wouldn’t have to see the hag again for months.

Sero was gaping at Dunce-face like he’d grown a second head. Kirishima was looking between the two of them, face scrunched in confusion, trying to figure out what he’d missed. Mina was hissing hushed whispers toward Ears. Dunce-face seemed to notice their reactions at the same time Katsuki did. “Ah, sorry, that was weird—”

“Let’s do it,” Katsuki interrupted. He realized too late that it made him seem overeager. “Bitch,” he added.

Kirishima stared at him incredulously. He felt a little bad, but he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself just yet. Everyone else, on the other hand, seemed to find it hilarious. Sero snorted, then burst out laughing.

“Bwhaa?” he said intelligently.

Mina’s laughter came out as a screech. “What was that face?”

The energy eventually died down, and the others seemed to realize that neither of them were going to explain why. They all went back to talking like normal, but the question hung in the air for the rest of the morning. Katsuki didn’t give a shit if the others were confused, but Kirishima looked lost. As they were leaving the restaurant, preparing to head their separate ways, he pulled him aside.

“We’ll talk. Later. Can’t today,” he mumbled, hoping it was enough of an explanation.

Apparently, it was. Kirishima blinked, then he grinned wide. “Yeah, of course. We can talk. Whenever you want, man.”

Then, the whole group parted ways. It was a quick goodbye. They would all see each other at the dorms the very next day, so there was no need to drag it out.

The two were left alone. They stared at each other for a moment before Katsuki took off down the sidewalk without warning. Denki had to sprint to catch up. The rest of that day was going to be awkward. Neither of them had ever considered the idea of spending time together, especially not alone.

They didn’t speak at all through the entire walk. Denki took a seat right beside Katsuki on the train, and only realized it might’ve been a mistake when the other stiffened. It was too late to move, though. They spent the entire ride sitting stiff as boards, not looking at each other. As soon as the train pulled into the station, Denki bolted up and out the doors. Katsuki quickly shuffled to his usual position in front, and that walk was made in silence as well.

Soon enough, the house was looming in front of them. Katsuki stopped and squinted at it. There was no chance in hell he’d be able to talk the hag into letting him stay somewhere else. He turned to Denki. “Come inside with me.”

Katsuki’s face held no emotion. It was just his resting glare, but it was intimidating enough on its own. Denki’s face scrunched up in discomfort and he swallowed, holding his hands up to his chest. Katsuki saw the look in his eyes and actually laughed. “You’re training to be a hero and you’re scared of some old woman?”

Denki shuddered. “Well, when you put it that way…” he muttered a little irritably. His eyes still betrayed his fear.

“She’s not gonna do shit to you, Dunce-face. If I go in there alone, she’s gonna be annoying about it. With you there she’ll have to act natural ‘n’ shit,” Katsuki explained seriously.

It didn’t take a big leap in logic for Denki to realize that being ‘annoying’ about it was probably code for more of what he’d seen earlier. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed somewhat reluctantly.

Katsuki gave him a cruel grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the big scary lady,” he teased.

They went inside together and took off their shoes in the doorway. Denki was surprised and disturbed by how normal everything felt. Katsuki’s mother was cheerful, seemingly happy to finally meet one of his friends. If he hadn’t seen anything earlier, he might not have even noticed how she sprinkled mean comments about Katsuki into the conversation. He might not have noticed when she pat his back too hard, or how he flinched when she gestured with her hands.

It made Denki feel helpless. Katsuki could see it, too, but the only way he could communicate that he needed to sit there and do nothing was to send a subtle glare across the room. Denki didn’t need to be told, though. He was smart enough to know that confrontation wouldn’t help here.

So, while Katsuki was down the hall packing up everything he needed to bring back to the school, Denki was sat in the living room drinking tea with the woman who hurt him. He tried to tell her the details about class that he figured Katsuki wouldn’t mind her knowing, and made sure to focus on describing how hard he works to get stronger. She didn’t seem to believe he was capable of putting in the effort, and Denki quickly realized that his efforts to change her mind were in vain. There was something seriously wrong with her.

She was in the middle of laughing cruelly at one of Denki’s stories, this one about the time in heroics class when Katsuki had led his group to victory in just five minutes, when Katsuki appeared in the doorway with his bag over his shoulder. Denki couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d seen him stand in that spot and let out a shudder.

“’m ready to go,” he mumbled. The walls were thin. He didn’t know what to feel about all the nice shit Denki had been saying about him. The stories and kind words all sounded very sincere, and even if they weren’t, he was still defending him to his mom. Even though he’d been so afraid before, he was sitting beside her and explaining that she was wrong about him. He was even taking care not to agitate her with it. He didn’t understand.

Denki, unaware of the other’s struggle, hopped up and set the cup down on the table. He quickly said a polite goodbye, and practically dragged a dumbfounded Katsuki out of the house. As soon as they were back on the sidewalk, he slumped his shoulders. “Ah, that was so scary. I feel sick,” he whined, face scrunched up pitifully.

Katsuki punched his shoulder. “Bitch.”

Their journey to Denki’s house was just as silent as before, but this time it was somehow more amicable. The tension was entirely gone without the lingering threat of Katsuki’s mother in the air. Katsuki was visibly more relaxed as they walked through the front door and repeated the motions of removing their shoes.

Still, the ice was in dire need of breaking. Denki could think of no better way to do it. “House tour?” he offered awkwardly.

Katsuki dropped his bag by the shoe cubby. “Do what you want,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug.

That was probably as close to a yes as he was gonna get.

The house was, for the most part, normal. It was a little cluttered, but not necessarily messy. Katsuki lingered around the family pictures in the living room with a disturbingly neutral expression on his face, but he didn’t say a word.

His awkward silence wasn’t broken until Denki finally brought him to his room. He snorted as soon as he laid eyes on it. “The fuck is this?”

Denki gave him an absolutely wounded look. “What do you mean?” he whined.

“I thought your dorm was bad, but this?”

They both looked over the room in silence for a moment. It was chaotic, but still organized, somehow. His bed, closet, and dresser stood to the left, and desk to the right. The entire wall beside his desk was lined in shelves which were filled to the brim with disc cases. They ranged from movies, to music, to anime, but most of the discs seemed to be video games. The desk faced a window, and above it was another shelf that was lined with manga. The walls were almost completely covered in posters and tapestries, other than a few spaces where he’d clearly plucked items off the wall to decorate his dorm.

Katsuki wandered his way to another shelf that was covered in figures. He poked at a tiny Pikachu which sat front and center. “Didn’t realize you were a fuckin’ nerd,” he muttered.

Denki let out a strangled scoff of offense. “C’mon, man, don’t be mean.”

“Is that an All Might plush,” Katsuki asked flatly, staring at the offending object on the bed.

He stepped toward it and plucked it off his bed to hold protectively by his chest. “Yes. Midoriya gave it to me when he was organizing his room,” he explained.

Katsuki leaned forward, stuck his finger down his throat, and literally gagged himself in response.

“Eugh, gross, dude,” Denki complained, shoving him away. “Look, it’s just hard to move this stuff around, okay? I would have brought it with me if I could,” he defended himself halfheartedly.

He received an eyeroll, and Katsuki moved to stand in front of another shelf which held another assortment of figures and magazines. “I’ve been in your dorm,” he grumbled. “It’s ugly as fuck, but nothing like this. What are you, embarrassed?”

Denki’s face heated up. He wasn’t sure what to say when he was being so directly called out. “It’s not like that,” he tried. Katsuki looked at him, unimpressed. “You’re gonna make fun of me,” he whined.

“I already am,” he deadpanned.

With a groan, Denki tossed the plush back onto the bed and collapsed dramatically into his desk chair. “Okay, okay. I didn’t bring anything because, well, if a girl just so happened to end up in my room, she probably wouldn’t be very impressed by all this, y’know?”

Katsuki reached past him to knock over a special edition Midnight figure that stood beside his desktop monitor. It landed awkwardly on the keyboard. “Everyone already knows you’re lame,” he pointed out casually.

“Thanks,” Denki said sarcastically. Then, he sighed. “It’s been months since we moved in, and the only girl who’s been in there is Mina, anyways,” he complained. Katsuki gave him an odd look. “I mean, not including the room tours, but that’s different.”

Red eyes squinted down at him. “Aren’t you bi?”

Denki’s jaw dropped. He stared up at Katsuki, eyes filled with horror, and managed to stay silent for a solid ten seconds while his brain fought to catch up. “What? I’m—huh?” he said intelligently.

Katsuki rolled his eyes and turned away to stalk over to his bed. He flopped down onto it as if he owned the space. “You’re going on about girls again, but—you’re bisexual, aren’t you?” he grumbled irritably.

“Um,” he stuttered. “Well, I’ve been thinking I might be, but I haven’t really talked to anyone about it yet.” A blush creeped over his face as he spoke. When he thought about coming out, the first person he expected to talk to was Mina, or maybe Sero if he was feeling brave. Never in a million years did he think he’d be having this talk with Bakugou Katsuki, of all people. “How did you know?” he asked hesitantly.

Katsuki scrunched his face with discomfort and shrugged. “Dunno. Just seemed obvious to me.”

“And,” Denki said with a quiet hesitance that Katsuki didn’t know he was capable of. “That’s okay?”

Rather than offering the reassurance that was hoping for, Katsuki sneered and threw the plush at his head. “Why would I give a shit about that? Do what you want.”

Somehow, that was enough. They sat in comfortable silence. In that brief moment, it could be said that they’d had their first successful conversation together in history. With minimal violence from Katsuki, and mostly comprehensible sentences from Denki, that really was the perfect place to end the talk and change the subject.

Unfortunately, Denki would never stop being a moron, and they both should have known better.

“So, what about you?” he asked suddenly, with an innocent curiosity that only worked to trigger a deep rage in the other boy.

The back of Denki’s chair hit the floor before he even registered the pillow that flew at his face. Katsuki hadn’t moved from the bed, where he now sat on the edge with his fists clenched in the comforter. “Don’t ask stupid questions, shit-for-brains,” he hissed.

“C’mon,” Denki whined, master of not knowing when to shut his mouth. “I told you mine. Are you into guys or girls? Both?”

Katsuki scoffed. “I don’t have time to think about shit like that, Dunce-face. Unlike you, I have important goals. I’m into killing villains. Absolutely destroying Deku in the hero rankings. And Todoroki.”

The boy on the floor snorted and rolled over to untangle himself from the chair. “Okay,” he said, clearly amused. “So, does that mean you’re aro-ace, or do you just genuinely not think about it?”

He stood and stalked to the door. “If you really don’t know, you’re more of an idiot than I took you for,” he snarled. “Do you have any decent tea in this place?”

With that, Denki finally dropped the subject. He awkwardly trailed behind Katsuki as he stomped his way into the kitchen. He showed him the drawer full of teas, then filled the kettle with water while the boy grumbled angrily to himself, too quiet for Denki to understand.

Through the process of making themselves tea, Katsuki calmed down considerably. At some point when he deemed it safe, Denki decided to fill the silence with talk about pretty much anything that came to mind. The conversation was completely one-sided until, “And I’ve been looking everywhere for new games to play, but everyone’s obsessed with Subnautica right now. It’s haunting me.”

Katsuki squinted at the look of discomfort on his face. “What’s that,” he asked flatly.

“Oh!” Denki startled, somewhat surprised that he’d been listening. “It’s just—it’s a survival game set in an alien ocean. I mean, it’s a good game and all, but it freaks me out a little,” he admitted bashfully. “Just, y’know, the constant threat of death by either unknown creatures lurking around, or just, like, drowning.”

Katsuki gave him an eerily thoughtful look. His eyes flickered over his face for a little too long, then he picked up his cup and walked into the living room. “Hm.”

Denki followed him, and they both sat down on either side of the couch. “So, what do you want to do? I have a lot of movies and stuff, but I don’t know if you’d like any of them. We could also just, I dunno, sit here and chill, if you want.”

Katsuki considered him with narrowed eyes, then spoke with a suspiciously neutral expression. “You should play something. I’ll watch.”

He blinked in surprise. “Oh, yeah, that could be fun. I didn’t think you’d be into that. Are you sure you don’t want to do two-player?” Katsuki responded with a single nod. “Okay, well, let’s pick something together, then,” Denki said with a grin.

They set their drinks on the coffee table and Katsuki followed him back into his room. He watched with calculating eyes as the boy flitted around the wall of games, pointing out different ones and explaining them to the best of his ability. He wasn’t listening to a word.

“Anything sound good so far?” Denki asked cheerfully.

He brought one hand to his chin and examined the endless wall of discs in front of him. He flicked his gaze to make eye-contact with the boy beside him. “You have Subnautica?”

Denki’s eye twitched. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish while he stared at Katsuki incredulously. It could’ve just been that it was the only game that sounded interesting to him, if not for his sharp eyes and the barely concealed smile of pure evil on his lips. Denki almost outright refused, but in a split second he recalled the reason why they were there in the first place. He was trying to be a good friend, and if that meant suffering through one night of a scary game, he would do it.

His entire body deflated, and he plucked the disk off the shelf. “Yeah, I have it,” he sighed.

At first, Denki couldn’t decide whether it was better or worse to play the game with another person beside him, especially considering who that person was. Despite how surprisingly well the afternoon had gone, he still felt a little like he was walking on eggshells around the boy. The tension that pulled between them coupled with the silent anticipation of danger as he navigated through the vines in-game.

If he was playing on his own, he might’ve startled a little bit. Instead, as soon as he took damage from one of the stalkers, he jumped up out of his seat and screamed.

A startled laugh forced its way out of Katsuki’s mouth, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. Denki whipped his head around in surprise. The boy’s eyes were closed, and he was lit up with genuine laughter in an expression that he’d never seen on his face before. He struggled not to stare, and flopped back on the couch to pout at the screen, which now informed him that he’d died. “Don’t be mean, Bakubro! That was scary!”

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch,” he complained, but the vulgar words did little to hide the smile in his voice.

That was really all it took to convince him that Subnautica was better with a friend.

The energy continued to lift for the rest of the night. Katsuki got more and more comfortable with his belligerent commentary, and Denki, while still scared, became more daring with his gameplay as time went on. They hardly moved at all, other than getting up to make popcorn or grab glasses of water. At around dinnertime, they paused just long enough to order takeout.

Katsuki ate it straight from the container with his feet on the table, and continued his commentary while waving his chopsticks around. With complaints like, “You have 30 seconds of oxygen left, you fuckin moron! You’re gonna drown,” and “Did you seriously just drop the scanner in a geyser?” as well as “How did you even die just then? Those fuckers were tiny!” it was easy to make the mistaken judgement that he was simply disgusted by Denki’s poor gameplay. Unfortunately for him, the façade was entirely broken by the wide grin that didn’t leave his face for the entire evening.

With little struggle, he nodded off at almost exactly 8pm, slumped awkwardly over the armrest beside him. As soon as Denki noticed he was dead to the world, he saved and quit the game. There was no point in his continued suffering when Katsuki wasn’t even awake to witness it. He quietly creeped to the hall closet to grab an extra blanket and pillow, then carefully adjusted Katsuki’s position to be more comfortable.

The sleeping boy wrinkled his nose in a tired sneer, but thankfully remained asleep.

Denki sighed in relief. He had no doubt that he would’ve never survived if Katsuki woke up with his face smushed between his palms. It really felt like holding an active landmine in his hands. He finished tucking him in and snuck into his room to spend the rest of the night scrolling through social media in silence.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself. He wondered, briefly, how long it had been since the guy had laughed like that. He’d never heard Midoriya describe a smile as soft as that on his face before. Katsuki’s friendship with Kirishima was all hard and manly, so he couldn’t imagine them spending that much time giggling at something as stupid as the googly eyes of the weird octopus-crabs that used to scare Denki so much.

Their relationship was evolving, for sure. Katsuki was finally opening up to him, and Denki was excited to learn exactly what that meant.

Chapter Text

It was safe to assume that the events of that day, whether they’d taken a turn for the better or not, would eventually lead Bakugou to snap. Denki may not be his best friend, but he knew him well enough to see the pattern. Even the smallest trigger could build up into the worst of fits. He couldn’t imagine how bad it was going to be after spending the whole vacation in that house.

So, Denki took to keeping an eye on him. He wasn’t outright stalking the guy, but he paid some more attention than he might have in normal circumstances. Close enough attention that he noticed he wasn’t the only one doing it. Jirou, of course, was clearly trying to do the same, and so was Midoriya, surprisingly enough. He figured it wasn’t outrageous to guess that he might know something too, considering they were childhood friends.

For as closely as those two watched Bakugou, though, Denki was certain he watched him ten times more often. Maybe he had some other reasons to be staring at him from across the classroom when he was supposed to be working. It was quite possible that he wished he’d given himself another second to look at that rare smile while they were playing together. Because it was getting clearer and clearer that he may never have the chance to see it again.

The morning after their night of games was an awkward one. Bakugou hadn’t said a single word to him that day, or any day in the week since then. Even when the whole squad sat together at lunch, it was almost as if Denki wasn’t even there. As much as this hurt his feelings, it hurt even more to see Bakugou spiraling further and further into a state of misery knowing that he probably wouldn’t be there if he’d just talk to him.

Thankfully, Kirishima seemed to notice his mood as well, even without the context. The two had been pretty much inseparable all week long. Denki really didn’t think it was possible for them to spend more time together than they already did, but somehow they managed, and it was the only time that Bakugou seemed actually relaxed.

The most surprising thing that came out of the week was about halfway through when Kirishima cornered Denki, eyes shining, and thanked him for being there for Bakugou when he couldn’t. He’d been so sure that Kirishima would be mad, and that Bakugou wouldn’t share what happened with anyone else. This turn of events, embarrassingly, shocked him into tears of relief, and they hugged it out in the middle of the dorm hallway.

It was a very manly display, according to Kirishima.

Somehow, even in the wake of their complete silence, Denki managed to figure out exactly why Bakugou claimed that he was stupid if he didn’t already know his sexuality. Sure, he’d noticed how often the guy hung out with Kirishima, but it wasn’t until he walked in on them eating dinner together that he realized exactly what that meant.

The look on Bakugou’s face was one he recognized from himself more often than he’d like to admit. It was the look he had when Jirou talked about music, or when Shinsou so much as glanced at him. It was pure adoration, and definitely far from platonic.

It only lasted half a second. Bakugou noticed him standing there almost instantly, and turned to give him the most half-hearted scowl he’d ever seen, then brought his attention back to focus completely on whatever story Kirishima was excitedly telling him. This was the only interaction they’d actually had since that night together.

It was probably bad that Denki wished he’d been more angry.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he missed the guy. Even if he could never get what they had that night, he would settle to at least go back to what they had before. All this nothing was torturous. Sure, Kirishima had the benefit of being Bakugou’s crush, apparently, but at some point they’d been at the same level. There was once a time that he and Kirishima both lamented in the fact that Bakugou seemingly hated them. What Kirishima had now felt so unattainable to him.

Denki couldn’t stop going over everything in his head, even in the company of his friends. Spending time with others was usually the easiest way to cheer himself up, but even now, he was sulking.

Sero sat at the desk, focused entirely on the game he was playing. He hadn’t come to hang out that night. All he wanted was access to Denki’s consoles. Mina, on the other hand, had tagged along only to harass Denki into allowing her to use him as her personal doll. In this case, by painting his nails black and giving him sharp eyeliner.

“We’re embracing the Pikachu vibes,” she’d said, as if this was a mutual agreement.

Denki allowed it because he didn’t actually mind makeup, and it was nice to have some attention after stressing over being ghosted for so long.

Now that he thought about it, his present company might actually be able to help him out with that. None of them were on par with Kirishima, but they were all still friends with the guy. They hung out with him more often than anyone else in their class. If anyone had any decent advice for him, it’d be these two.

So, that’s how he found himself asking, “How does he do it?” as he distractedly watched Mina start up the second coat on his nails.

Sero paused the game and spun the chair around, apparently preparing for a talk. “How does who do what?”

“Kirishima,” Denki sighed. “How does he talk to Bakugou?”

Mina snorted. “I’m pretty sure he’s only survived this long because of his quirk.”

Before Denki could object, Sero nodded along with her solemnly. “Anyone else would be dead by now. Have you seen the size of some of the explosions he’s been hit with? Our blasty friend is a little nuts, bro.”

He sighed and deflated in his defeat. “Ah, maybe you’re right.”

“Why do you even want to know, dude? Doesn’t he hate your guts?” Sero asked genuinely.

Denki squirmed, but didn’t remove his hands from the towel. “Okay, so, here’s the thing,” he started.

“Oh, boy,” Mina snickered, and grabbed at his left hand to continue her task despite the distractions.

“We totally had a moment last weekend. A bro moment. I refuse to give details because it’s a sacred memory, but,” he paused and gave a shaky sigh for dramatic effect. “I thought we were gonna be buddies and now he’s just ignoring me.”

“Aw, poor you,” Mina said, mockingly sympathetic, without looking up.

“I know being ignored is, like, technically a step up from being attacked every time I open my mouth,” Denki explained.

“Uh-huh,” Sero said dryly, one hand on his chin and eyes squinted in thought.

“But it feels so much worse, guys. I’d so rather have him explode my face.”

“I really think this is saying a lot more about your thought process and mental state than it is his,” Sero said decisively.

“Come on, man, I’m serious,” Denki whined.

“Well, how’d you get him to talk to you last time?” Mina asked with genuine curiosity.

It took Denki a few moments to consider, but when he reached his conclusion, he was only more dejected than before. “He was forced into spending time with me due to circumstances out of his control, and then revelled in my pain for the entire night,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for Mina to hear.

“Mm,” she nodded solemnly. “So, like normal.”

“I swear to god, Mina, it was a bro moment,” he whined.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I believe you.”

“Consider this,” Sero interjected. “Maybe the bro moment freaked him out.” He turned back around and started up his game again. “He’s kinda like a chihuahua. Takes him forever to warm up to you, and even after he does, he still gets a little skittish. I remember Kirishima saying something about it always being one step forward, ten steps back.”

“Ah, yeah,” Denki sighed. “I remember that too.”

“If you really think Bakugou’s warming up to you, the best thing you can do now is give him space,” Sero said calmly, despite the violent way he was handling the controller as he was caught in an intense battle in-game. “Either he’ll come to you, or you can risk the Kirishima move by harassing him until he explodes your face and gives in. Personally, I don’t think option 2 would work for anyone other than Kiri.” A popup appeared on-screen to inform him that he’d died. He tossed the controller on the counter with a sigh.

“I guess,” Denki pouted.

Mina nodded vigorously. “Give him time. But if he never comes to you, don’t let it eat you up, okay? You know how he is.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Maybe I just misread things. He probably isn’t any more interested in being my friend than he was before.”

Katsuki managed to successfully avoid Kaminari for a week and a half. It wasn’t exactly an active effort on his part. He just kept away from conversations that the guy was involved in, and ignored him in class. The change really shouldn’t have been noticeable, but somehow it seemed like the entire squad was aware of the tension between them.

He didn’t need more than one ‘friend.’ Kirishima was enough for him, and he spent the entire week and a half working to prove that to himself. He was doing a good job, too. He’d talked to Kirishima about his home situation despite how uncomfortable it made him, he hung out every single time he asked, and they began a new routine of training together. Somehow, the red-head had yet to grow tired of his new-found clinginess.

He didn’t think he would ever get tired of their new closeness, either. He thought he could probably go the rest of his life waking up early to go to the gym with the guy. He never wanted to go a night without eating together again. These weren’t exactly new feelings, but the idea of being almost-domestic like that and actively doing it were two entirely different things, and it was truly ruining him.

It all came to an end one morning when they were walking back to the dorms after their morning training.

“I’m not gonna make it to dinner,” Kirishima announced, as if he didn’t even realize how devastating that was.

“Why,” Katsuki asked through gritted teeth.

Kirishima laughed at his failed attempt to hide his distress. “I’m sorry, bro. I have a few long shifts lined up, and I have no idea how long it’ll be ‘til my schedule’s normal again. I’ll try to make it as often as possible, but…”

“Tch,” Katsuki shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at the ground in front of them as they walked. “When do they expect you to eat?” he demanded. After a beat of silence, he turned his glare onto the boy’s sheepish face. “They’re making you work that late and can’t even give you a break for dinner?”

“It’s not like that,” Kirishima instantly defended. “I can’t say much, you know, but I’ll probably just be really busy. I’ll think of something.”

“No,” he said, looking away again. “I’ll just keep making enough for the both of us. Not like you cooked much anyways,” he muttered.

Kirishima was silent for a moment. “Bakugou,” he said with a tearful voice. “You would do that for me?”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m not doing anything different. I’ll still be making the same amount,” he muttered quieter, hunching his shoulders.

The boy beside him stopped walking and grabbed at his sleeves to force him to turn around and make eye contact. He looked absolutely touched. “You actually have no idea what that means to me, bro. I was stressing out so bad about what I was gonna do without you.”

Katsuki pressed his lips together and shrugged his hands away. “Whatever.”

The day went just about the same as it always did, right up until the point that Kirishima left early for his shift. After that, Katsuki found himself truly alone. It didn’t usually bother him. He’d never needed another person’s company to feel whole. He’d always lived this way, and yet, as he laid on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, the loneliness was beginning to creep in and threatened to swallow him whole.

It wouldn’t be that weird for him to go downstairs to make dinner early, probably. So, he pushed himself up with a groan and headed down to the kitchen.

The common room was full of small groups either studying or eating together. The kitchen was only a little less crowded. Unfortunately for him, the one group he’d hoped to avoid sat only a short distance away from the stove.

Kirishima acted as the glue that kept the group together. Or, at least, the glue that kept Katsuki with them. With him gone, interacting with the squad was not just impossible. It was painful. Especially with the Kaminari situation.

“Okay, okay, listen,” Kaminari said in a hushed voice. “These are all good strategies, guys. Really creative.”

Mina snorted. “What’s with that tone?” she asked, trying desperately to conceal her laughter.

“I have a better idea,” he explained. “Prepare yourselves.”

“I’m not ready,” Sero groaned.

Katsuki couldn’t help but tune in as he slowly stirred his noodles into the broth. Kaminari cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Picture this. You’re in the field. You’re fighting a powerful villain. He’s getting the upper hand but then—bam, you take off your clothes.” He paused as Mina and Sero started cackling. “Listen, listen, it would work, right?”

“No, what is wrong with you?” Sero screeched.

“Wait, wait, actually though,” Mina said through her laughter. “It would be pretty distracting, right?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Stop,” Sero laughed. “I won’t argue against the benefits of distracting your enemy, but, come on, you’d have to get undressed really fast for that to work.”

“No, listen, you know those quick-change shows? They have specialized costumes to tear them off easily and stuff,” Kaminari insisted, causing another screech of laughter from Mina.

“So you want a costume that’s really easy to tear off? That would be so inconvenient in every other situation!” Sero shouted. His raised voice got the attention of others who lingered nearby, but he ignored them. “Would it not be inconvenient for your costume to fall off at the slightest tug?”

“That’s what the support department is for,” Kaminari explained patiently. “Also, the element of surprise isn’t the only benefit. It could work just as well if you walk into the fight naked.”

“What do you mean, it’s not important?” Sero shrieked. Mina’s cackling became more like hyperventilation. Katsuki calmly poured half of his soup into a Tupperware container and began to carefully write Kirishima’s name on it. “What’s the point without the shock? Where’s the distraction?”

“See, that’s where you’re mixed up. It’s not just distraction, it’s the embarrassment,” Kaminari said with confidence, despite Sero’s indignant screech.

“That’s right!” Mina said, still struggling to breathe. “What kind of villain wants to fight a naked guy? What kind of impression would that give?”

Kaminari made a noise of agreement, and Katsuki could practically see him bouncing with excitement. “Yes, and think about hand-to-hand. Would it even be worth staying to fight? They’d have to surrender immediately.”

“No way!” Sero shouted, barely concealing his own laughter. “It’s not that easy in real life!”

“It totally is!” Kaminari countered. “Hey, Bakugou, what do you think?” he asked suddenly.

Katsuki turned, slow and stiff, to face the blond. His eyes sparkled with excitement. His smile was small and genuine, and he’d paused in the middle of gesturing with his hands while he waited for an answer. He almost looked… “Mm,” Katsuki said, turning away quickly to pour his own half of the soup into a bowl.

“He agrees with me,” Kaminari said smugly.

“He wasn’t even listening!” Sero shrieked indignantly.

“Mm, no, Bakugou is on our side,” Mina giggled. “I bet he’d do it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Kaminari agreed.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grumbled. For some reason, a traitorous part of his brain forced him to remember that night. The one where he would have probably ended up alone in his room, with his mother right outside his door, feeling miserable all night, if not for the idiot’s intervention. How he’d actually found he maybe enjoyed himself a little.

He’d wondered if it was possible to feel that light with someone other than Kirishima. Now, he wondered if it was possible to feel that way a second time.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you guys with that,” Kaminari said mischievously. “I’ve got some games calling my name upstairs.”

Katsuki tried not to look like he was rushing as he pulled out a tray and chopsticks.

“Aw, man, you suck,” Sero complained. “You didn’t even win your case yet.”

Kaminari laughed. “I think it counts as an automatic win if Bakubro agrees with me.”

“He didn’t!”

He placed his bowl carefully on the tray and lifted it. He peaked carefully over his shoulder to see Kaminari was already halfway to the door.

“We’ll miss you, drooly!” Mina called, still snickering.

“Don’t be mean!” Kaminari called through the open doorway.

Katsuki followed close behind. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to the extras after he left the room. The door to the elevator barely hissed closed right behind him, and Kaminari stared at him in surprise for a moment before hitting the buttons for both of their floors.

The ride was silent until Katsuki got off on Kaminari’s floor. “Why are you following me?” he asked, a little bewildered.

“You said you were playing games,” Katsuki explained, as if this was a perfectly normal interaction.

“O-oh,” Kaminari stuttered. They stopped at his door and he hesitantly pulled out his keys. “You… you wanted to watch?”

Katsuki shrugged.

“I thought you, like, hated me or something,” Kaminari mumbled as he swung the door open. Katsuki didn’t say a word as he walked right past him and placed his tray on the table. After a moment of consideration, he decided to sit in the space between the table and the bed. They’d technically already had a sleepover, but he’d slept on the couch in another room, so that didn’t exactly give him bed privileges.

Kaminari still stood in the doorway. “Um, okay,” he said. “Well, I was just going to play Overwatch, but…”

“Boring,” Katsuki said decisively.

“Yeah.” Kaminari closed the door behind him and wandered over to his computer and scrolled through a long list of files. “You liked the survival type genre, right? What about Minecraft? Or Don’t Starve?”

He hummed in thought and stood to look at the list. The title of the folder was ‘Survival,’ and Katsuki rolled his eyes at the idea that even virtually, the guy manages to keep his games more organized than the rest of his life. He skimmed the list and eventually landed on one near the end titled, The Forest. It sounded ominous enough. He pointed to it.

“Dude,” Kaminari said, voice filled with horror. “How do you—are you doing this on purpose?”

Katsuki couldn’t hide the upturn of his lips. “’S that one scary?” he asked innocently.

“You totally are!” Kaminari accused. “Ugh, whatever. You have to pay for my therapy and sleep aids later when I can’t stop having nightmares.”

“Don’t be a fucking baby,” Katsuki snarled.

With that, he sat back down in his spot at the table and sipped on his broth while the game started up. The night went very much like their first sleepover had, although Kaminari was a little more openly reluctant about the position he was put in. Still, by the end, Katsuki found himself genuinely enjoying himself, and despite his complaints, Kaminari was doing the same.

He also found Kaminari staring at him with stars in his eyes on multiple occasions, and for some reason, it caused something in his chest to flutter.

Kirishima’s few days of long shifts turned into a whole week of long shifts, expected to extend indefinitely. They still trained in the mornings and spent time together in class, but the guy didn’t seem to have a moment of free time left. It was clearly weighing on him. Katsuki did everything he could to relieve his burden, and eventually ended up making him both breakfast and dinner every day.

Thus, a new routine began. Every night after he made dinner, he waited until Kaminari finished socializing and followed him up to his room. He started doing research into actual horror games to force him to play, and despite the initial vehement refusal, he always caved and did it anyway. Katsuki liked to think maybe he secretly enjoyed horror games.

After a whole week filled with this, Katsuki still wasn’t tired of his company. In fact, the more time he spent with the guy, the more he was forced to face the fact that he was maybe, kind of, a little cute. Just a little bit. It absolutely infuriated him to know he clearly had a type, and that type was dumbass.

They were sat side by side on the floor when Katsuki decided he couldn’t take it any longer. Kaminari had the controller in his hands, gripped possibly too tightly, and he was looking up at the screen with intense concentration. He was biting at the insides of his lips anxiously as the anticipation of a jumpscare grew. His bangs were tied up in a tiny bun on the top of his head, held together with a tiny bow clip that was almost definitely stolen from Raccoon Eyes.

He was fucking adorable. God damnit.

In that moment, he threw caution to the wind and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek without an ounce of hesitation. A spark of static startled him and caused his lips to tingle, but it didn’t hurt.

Kaminari jumped out of his skin and the remote clattered to the table. He slowly lifted a hand to his cheek and turned toward him. “K-Kacchan, you—why?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Just felt like it.”

“Oh,” he breathed. His face blushed pink, all the way down his neck. “Okay.”

They went back to the game. It almost seemed normal. Katsuki made sure it was impossible to forget that it wasn’t by laying his head on the boy’s shoulder. He was stiff at first, but eventually relaxed.

Katsuki counted that as a win.

Chapter Text

As soon as Bakugou left, Denki collapsed onto his bed. He lifted his hands to cover his face and resisted the urge to scream.  

What was that?

Denki had almost managed to convince himself that he’d misread everything that happened that fateful weekend. He followed Sero’s advice to give him space, for the most part, and the guy didn’t seem interested in talking to him at all. There probably wasn’t a single instance where Bakugou responded with more than one-word answers until he followed Denki into the elevator and invited himself into his room.

Throughout the week following, Denki was more than a little bit aware that he was only getting this because Kirishima was gone for work. Still, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to see that rare smile again. In fact, it only made him more eager to spend as much time as he could with the guy.

The smile was exactly how he remembered it to be. Watching the ever-present glare slowly melt off of Bakugou’s face felt the same as lying down after a long day of training, or a deep tissue massage. He felt his own worries fall away, and couldn’t help the grin he’d give in return. It was without a doubt the best feeling in the world.

After all of the development that their friendship had gone through in such a short time, Denki figured that Bakugou at best considered him a decent distraction from loneliness. He didn’t expect something like that in a million years.

It wasn’t like he minded, really. There was no doubt about how attractive Bakugou was. As soon as he got past his outer shell of ugly sneers and expletives it was plain to see. Denki was reminded all too frequently that his mom was a model, and the guy had inherited the quirk that made her career.

Maybe he was crazy, but he wasn’t exactly interested in a relationship with the guy. He already had his eye on a couple of crushes, and adding another to the pile was something that his heart just couldn’t take. The thing was, Bakugou didn’t seem interested in a relationship either. The interaction was casual. It was nothing like the longing looks and soft touches he’d noticed between him and Kirishima.

After a very fitful rest, Denki found himself awake much earlier than he usually would be. The glowing numbers on his clock made him want to cry, but there was nothing he could do to get back to sleep. He stood up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled to the elevator.

He desperately needed coffee.

The doors opened on Todoroki’s surprised face, which really didn’t look much different from his typical neutral look. “You’re not usually awake this early,” he observed.

Denki strode into the elevator and leaned against the rail with a sigh. “Slept bad. Too many thoughts,” he mumbled.

“Is there anything you need to talk about?” Todoroki asked politely. “I’ve been told I’m a good, uhm… Soundboard?” He seemed more than a little confused at the concept of being referred to as an inanimate object.

“Actually,” Denki said, considering the idea. “Maybe. It’s uh, kind of private. Can you keep a secret?”

The doors slid open on the common room floor and Todoroki stepped through them. “I think I can manage,” he said, deadpan.

“Cool, okay, so, first of all, I’m bisexual,” Denki started as soon as he was sure they were alone.

Todoroki didn’t even spare him a glance as he strolled into the kitchen. “Congratulations. I’m asexual.”

Denki blinked. He hadn’t expected that, but it did make sense. “Oh, sweet.” He jogged to catch up to him and stood in the center of the empty kitchen as the other prepared tea. “Uh, so, I’ve been hanging with this guy, right? I’m, like, pretty sure we were maybe becoming friends, but last night he kissed me, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Is he ugly?” Todoroki asked flatly.

“Oh, no, he’s—I mean—wow, y’know? But I never seriously thought about him like that,” Denki sighed. He started pacing back and forth. “I don’t really want a relationship with him, but…” The attention had been nice. The almost cuddle afterwards had also been nice. The confirmation that there was something behind those calculating stares did something to his heart.

Todoroki paused what he was doing to turn and consider Denki. “You didn’t hate it,” he guessed.

He pulled up a chair and practically fell into it. He buried his face in his hands to hide his blush and groaned. “More than that. It was just on the cheek, but it’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m just so conflicted.”

Todoroki hummed and Denki peaked through his fingers to see him turning back to his tea. “Well, I’ve heard of friends doing that kind of thing together,” he said flippantly. “It doesn’t have to be a formal relationship, does it?”

That idea gave Denki pause. He looked up and stared at Todoroki’s back for a long time. “Oh, wow, you’re right. I think that’s—that might be what he was going for, actually.”

“It works perfectly, then,” Todoroki stated, pouring water into his teacup.

Denki hummed. “A little too perfectly,” he muttered. “Thanks, Todoroki. You really are a good soundboard.”

He still looked a little like he didn’t understand the metaphor, but rather than ask for an explanation he just said, “Uhm, thank you. And you’re welcome.”

Denki got ready for the day pretty quickly after that. Despite his lack of sleep, he practically buzzed with nervous energy. There was still a chance he was wrong, but the possibilities of their evolving relationship were exciting. He couldn’t wait to talk to him about it.

Like, actually. He couldn’t wait.

He pulled on his blazer and dashed to the door, only to have to double back to grab his forgotten phone from the table. Without wasting another moment, he jogged down the hall and took the elevator up to Bakugou’s floor. The doors opened to Kirishima’s tired face.

“Oh, hey, bro,” he said, trying for a smile. “I was just headed down for breakfast. Did you need something?”

For a moment, Denki’s brain shut down and he completely forgot what he was there for. “Oh, no, I was actually—you know what, nevermind. Are you okay, dude?”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his head and looked down sheepishly. “Ah, yeah, I just got back pretty late last night. I had to tell Bakugou that I’m not training with him in the mornings for a while. I think it really bummed him out.”

“I’m sure he understands,” Denki rushed to reassure him. “You’ve been so busy. You need some time to rest.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” Kirishima admitted in a mumble. “I still think he’s upset. Well, anyways, I’m running a little late so I should head down. Are you sure you didn’t need anything?”

Denki waved his hands dismissively and moved out of the elevator and into the hallway to allow Kirishima to walk past. “No, I came up here to ask Kacchan a question, actually. It’s nothing important.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said with a blink of surprise, voice small.

“I’ll be downstairs in a couple minutes,” Denki reassured him. The elevator doors closed before either of them could say another word.

That interaction had been strange and a little worrying, but nothing was going to deter him from his mission. Denki walked with purposeful steps all the way up to Bakugou’s door and gave two firm knocks. He could hear grumbling and stomping from the other side of the door, then it swung open.

“I said it was fine—Oh. Dunce-face.” Bakugou’s snarl faded into a softer look of confusion which caused a swarm of butterflies to grow in Denki’s chest.

“Uhm, hi,” he said awkwardly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Bakugou gave him a suspicious squint. “What about?”

“Something that you might not want me to say in the middle of the dorm hallway?” Denki tried.

At that, Bakugou rolled his eyes and dragged him inside by the front of his shirt. He slammed the door behind him and practically tossed him onto the bed. “Go on,” he said through gritted teeth as he turned to finish pulling his belt through the loops of his pants.

Denki watched the action for a moment. He needed to pull it together. “Right. So, last night,” he started.

“Uh-huh,” Bakugou said, unamused.

“I just want to know where we stand, you know?” Denki explained, shifting in his seat. “You don’t want to be, like, boyfriends, right?”

Bakugou snorted and pulled his blazer off of its hanger. “Fuck no.”

“But you want to be more than friends,” Denki said hesitantly.

“We’re not friends,” was the immediate and predictable response.

He sighed deeply and scrunched his face in what might have been a cringe. “Okay, so what are we?”

Bakugou finished pulling the blazer on and finally turned to look at him. “Did you seriously just say those words to me?”

Denki stood and resumed his pacing from earlier that morning. “It’s an important question! I don’t know if you’ve met yourself, dude, but I can’t exactly test the waters without risk of imminent death, so this is our only option. I gotta know in explicit detail what we’re aiming for here.”

There was a pained groan, then Denki was shoved onto the bed again. He supposed it was probably better than being shoved to the ground. “I don’t fucking know,” Bakugou raised his voice, but it wasn’t quite a shout. “I just felt like doing it, so I did it. It doesn’t have to mean shit.”

Denki swallowed and looked up. Bakugou stood with his hip leaning against his desk, arms crossed, with his eyes glaring down at him. His gaze was piercing, but it wasn’t enough to make him back down. “So, theoretically,” he started. Bakugou rolled his eyes and let out a groan like a dying animal. “If I felt like kissing you on the cheek and I did it, you wouldn’t kill me on the spot?”

“Ugh,” he said with a look of disgust. Denki might have believed it was genuine if not for the dust of pink on his cheeks. “Do what you want.”

He stood up and took a few steps into Bakugou’s space. Denki’s searching eyes stared into his narrowed ones for a long moment, and then, “Can I do it right now?” he asked quietly.

Bakugou grabbed his face and squeezed. He stepped past and stomped all the way to the door. “Not when you’re being fucking weird about it,” he growled. “Get out of my room.”

Denki blinked as he watched him swing the door open and stand there, waiting for him to leave, all while avoiding looking up from the ground. It was pretty clear that Bakugou was blushing like crazy, but he decided not to comment on it for now. He’d been gracious enough not to shove him down a third time already. There was no need to test his patience.

“Kay,” he said cheerfully. He practically skipped out of the room. “See you in class.”

The only response he received was a door to the face.

The early morning rejection wasn’t nearly enough to bring down his mood. In fact, it only made him feel even brighter. Bakugou was embarrassed. It was a new emotion from the guy, and Denki was no longer afraid to declare that it was cute as heck. Plus, while he was technically rejected in the moment, he’d also been given permission to kiss him whenever he wanted as long as he wasn’t ‘weird’ about it. Whatever that meant.

On another note, technically, kissing was a step above what Kirishima was currently allowed. So, it was safe to assume that Denki also had hugging and possibly movie night snuggling privileges. A whole new world of possibilities had opened up that he’d never even spared a moment to imagine for himself.

Denki dropped his lunch tray onto the table in front of Bakugou and Sero with an obnoxious clatter. He couldn’t wipe the beaming smile off his face as he sat down and broke his chopsticks.

“Oh, wow, dude, you’re glowing,” Sero commented with bewilderment. “What’s got you like this?”

His smile didn’t fade in the slightest as he replied easily, “Can’t a guy just be in a good mood?”

Sero laughed. “Uh, yeah, you usually are. This is different. Is it a girl?”

Denki couldn’t help but let out a barking laugh at that. In his peripheral vision, Bakugou glared at him over the rim of the bowl that he held up to his lips, and he tried not to meet his gaze. He held his eye-contact with Sero and said cheerfully, “Nope!”

Sero looked uncertain, but he didn’t have a chance to argue before Mina rushed over and planted herself right beside Denki. “What’s that smile?” she demanded with an evil grin, crowding into his space. “Who made you this happy? Tell me! Was it Jirou?”

“He said it wasn’t a girl,” Sero said in a tone that suggested he definitely didn’t believe it.

“Bullshit!” Mina declared. “Tell us!”

“What’s going on?” Kirishima asked as he sat down in his seat beside Bakugou.

Bakugou moved his bowl just long enough to mumble, “They’re being idiots,” then went right back to shoveling rice into his face and attempting to sink into the ground.

“Kaminari definitely talked to a girl! Look at him!” Mina gestured wildly to the still present grin on Denki’s face.

“And I’m telling you I didn’t,” he said evenly. “The world doesn’t revolve around girls, you know.”

All three of them gasped. Bakugou rolled his eyes and gave him a look of endless suffering.

“Dude, who are you?” Sero asked.

“I know, you all must be insanely curious, but I’m telling you nothing happened to make me like this,” Denki lied as he started to eat his own lunch. He spoke with his mouth full, earning a look of disgust from Bakugou. “I’m just basking in the good vibes, you know?”

Kirishima looked unimpressed. “Bro, I don’t believe you for a second.” Denki shrugged. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us though,” he assured.

“Kiri, no!” Mina whined. “It’s not! I wanna know!”

“Hey, you went to Recovery Girl to nap, right?” Denki said, directed to Kirishima. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“This isn’t over,” Mina warned.

Kirishima gave her a knowing smile and looked back toward Denki. “Yeah, much better actually. I can’t wait for this all to be over. I don’t think they expected it to get so…” he trailed off.

“Complicated?” Sero suggested.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “And exhausting.”

“You got this, bro,” Denki declared with confidence. He was given a weak smile of thanks in return. A sudden thought came to him, and he felt a little bad that he hadn’t considered it sooner. “Hey, wasn’t Tetsutetsu working with you? Is he part of this too?”

Kirishima sighed again. “Mm, no. He was at first, but his teacher took pity on him. It’s just me now, and, well… you know Aizawa.”

“That’s fucked up,” Bakugou informed him bluntly.

Mina slumped over her tray and leaned her elbows on the table. “I actually gotta agree on that one,” she said. “You look awful, and we barely ever see you anymore.”

The red-head looked seconds from breaking, but instead pulled back his shoulders. “Well, hopefully it’ll be over soon. There’s no way it’ll last more than another week. I can survive that long.”

Bakugou shook his head. “If that shitty agency fucks up your grades, I’m ending them myself.”

“Aw, he cares,” Mina cooed.

He gave a snarl of disgust and stood up, mumbling something vague about grabbing notes from somewhere, then snatched his tray and spun around without another word. Denki now knew that he’d just been witness to another moment of Bakugou embarrassment, but no one else was privy to that information. He grinned at the back of his retreating form.

“He’s just leaving ‘cause he knows you’re right,” Sero said flatly as soon as he was out of earshot. All four of them broke into giggles.

It’s somehow a little too easy to forget how annoying Kaminari was when he wanted to be. Sometimes Katsuki was forced to recall all the times he nearly killed the guy just for opening his dumb mouth, or how he would try anything to be as far away from him as possible. Half of the times he’d refused to go on public outings it was all because he couldn’t stand to be near the guy in a place with witnesses.

What had changed to make him fall so far? How had this idiot managed to reprogram him so fundamentally that he would allow this behavior from himself? He didn’t have the answers. All he knew was that despite every ounce of hatred he tried desperately to pour into his being, one look at Kaminari’s beaming face in the common room that night was all it took to crumble his resolve.

He took his dinner up to Kaminari’s room and used his personal copy of the key to let himself in.

What sequence of events brought him to this point? Seriously. He needed to know.

Katsuki had definitely had worse days before, there was no doubt about that, but this one managed to at least make it on the leaderboards. It started off with the early disappointment of Kirishima being forced to quit his training regimen just to have enough time to sleep, which in turn limited their time spent together even further. Worse was the fact that the idiot just could not believe that Katsuki wasn’t mad at him.

It’s so not manly, the bastard had cried. I’m supposed to be getting stronger, but instead I’m quitting. You don’t like weak people!

Your agency is taking advantage of you! If you want to be strong, stand up for yourself! Katsuki wanted to scream in his face. Instead, he told him to go the fuck back to bed rather than wasting his extra sleeping time arguing about problems that don’t exist.

Based on his appearance in homeroom that morning, he had not, in fact, done as he was told.

After fielding that mess of a situation, it was safe to say that Katsuki was absolutely done with emotional bullshit for at least the next week. So, of course, Kaminari fucking Denki decided to barge in and demand to know, What are we?

Fucking idiot.

If Katsuki knew, he would have said so the night before. And no, he had not had a chance to think about that mess of feelings when he was in the middle of dealing with an even bigger one all goddamned morning. In the end, it was pretty clear that the asshole didn’t actually give a shit about the status of their relationship, and moreso only cared to know if he was allowed to reciprocate.

He wouldn’t say he was nervous about giving him that permission, but the guy was known to be a little over the top. Still, he couldn’t exactly say no, because he was sure that would put a much too quick ending to things. So, he’d agreed, and the bastard proceeded to preen all fucking day with his stupid smug grin and dumb comments.

If it were anyone else, the smug look would be enough for Katsuki to kill them on the spot. All day, the idea that Kaminari clearly felt like he won something gave him the distinct feeling that he’d lost. That should’ve thrown him into a familiar deep rage. Instead, he sat on the guy’s floor, eating his dinner, and considered another idea.

The idea that maybe he wasn’t a player, and instead he was the prize.

The thought brought a smile to his face despite himself. He didn’t know how that somehow made it better, but it did. Not enough for him to forgive the asshole for acting like a kid in a candy store all day long, but just enough to pause his rage temporarily to choose a perfect game to use as a punishment.

“Hi, Kacchan,” Kaminari practically cooed as soon as he entered the door.

Katsuki tossed his phone onto the table without a word. Kaminari picked it up and stared at it for a moment, then moved to open up the chosen game with a sigh. He’d long since given up arguing about the genre of the games they played together.

The game itself was honestly kind of boring and generic, but it came with a lot of jumpscares, which Katsuki knew he hated. Not even five minutes into the gameplay, his plan backfired. Kaminari turned a corner only to be attacked by a monster that honestly wasn’t even that scary, only to yelp and turn his face into the dip of Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Ah, I hate jumpscares,” Kaminari whined. Despite his pitiful tone, Katsuki could feel the smile of his lips against his collarbone. “Hold me?” he asked innocently.

He was such a little shit.

Katsuki conceded with a roll of his eyes and threw his arm around Kaminari’s shoulder. The position allowed him to snuggle further into his side until he was attached with his head pillowed against his chest. He was practically vibrating with the pure joy radiating from his body.

“You’re so fucking weird,” Katsuki muttered.

Kaminari stubbornly stayed pressed against him for the next hour and a half until it was long past the time that Katsuki would normally go to bed. It was becoming marginally more difficult for him to keep his eyes open, and his head nodded on more than one occasion. After one particularly violent jerk back into consciousness, Kaminari finally sat up.

He looked into Katsuki’s tired eyes for a long time, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek with a lot more tenderness than he’d been afforded the night before. The action brought up an unidentifiable emotion from deep inside Katsuki’s chest, but before it could bubble completely to the surface he spoke, “You should go to bed.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Katsuki found that he didn’t want to after that. Instead, he climbed up onto Kaminari’s bed, laid down on his stomach, and rested a hand in his hair. “Wake me when you’re goin’ to sleep,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“’Kay,” Kaminari replied happily.

His nap was dreamless, but he felt content in a way that he’d forgotten was possible. Sleep was meant to be restful like this. Not filled with nightmares and the ever-present fear that he might accidentally blow something up.

Kaminari woke him gently with a shake of his shoulder. “Hey, Bakubro, it’s time to go to your room,” he whispered.

Katsuki looked up at him blearily and frowned. “You can’t fucking call me that after you kissed me,” he complained.

He didn’t get the apology he deserved. Instead, Kaminari snickered. “What, do you prefer Kacchan?” Katsuki’s eyebrows scrunched in a tired attempt at a glare, but it was clearly ineffective because the snickers turned into outright giggles. “Oh my gosh, dude, are you pouting at me right now?”

Katsuki sat up, a little too fast, and swayed in his place for a moment. “Fuck off,” he mumbled. “Tired.”

Kaminari placed his hands on his shoulders and rubbed up and down his arms. It felt nice, unfortunately. “I bet,” he said, still amused. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Midoriya that you like his nickname.”

He hadn’t been worried about that before, but now he was, and he reluctantly shoved the hands away to stand on unsteady legs. “Ass,” he murmured. “Can’t stand you.”

“Sure,” Kaminari said sarcastically, with all the confidence in the world. “Do you need help back to your room, Kacchan? You’re looking a little—”

“I don’t need fucking help,” he snapped. He couldn’t tell if the use of the nickname was genuine, or an attempt to mock him. “G’night,” he said irritably, stumbling through the doorway.

The trip back to his room should have been short and uneventful. Katsuki didn’t know what time it was, but he could feel that it was late based on how deeply he’d been sleeping. There shouldn’t be a single person awake at this hour.

Which only brought the question of why the fuck Kirishima was paused halfway down their hallway, holding his costume case in one hand and a jacket in the other, staring at Katsuki in utter confusion.

“Why are you awake?” Kirishima whispered.

Katsuki blinked hard, as if maybe his half-asleep brain was playing tricks on him. The red-head remained standing exactly where he was, clearly not an illusion. “Bathroom,” he answered lamely as he stepped out of the elevator. It seemed to be believable enough, if the understanding nod was anything to go off of. “The fuck are you doing coming back so late? What time is it?”

“It’s not three yet,” Kirishima said, as if that was a reasonable answer. “I got back around forty minutes ago, though. I was just eating dinner downstairs.”

“What the fuck, shitty hair,” Katsuki sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I know you like Fatgum, but come on. This shit’s not okay.”

Kirishima cringed. “I can’t talk about it, you know that, but… Really, it’s fine. There’s nothing he can do to reduce my hours right now. It’ll be over soon.”

He gritted his teeth and gave him a tired glare. “What I’m saying is you shouldn’t have been put in this situation in the first place.” Kirishima looked a little sheepish, but he clearly wasn’t planning to back down anytime soon. “Get the fuck to sleep, and don’t waste any of your extra time worrying like you did yesterday. Asshole.”

With that, he entered his own dorm and closed the door on the red-head’s bewildered face.

Katsuki woke up late and overtired the next morning. The idea of going to train without Kirishima was honestly so depressing that he found it difficult to get out of bed at all. Instead of doing the responsible thing, he allowed himself five more minutes to stare at the ceiling in misery, then headed downstairs to make breakfast. Skipping one day wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Except that every morning person in their class decided to comment on it.

He managed to keep a lid on his temper all the way up until Uraraka, the fifth person so far, decided to ask him why he hadn’t been to the gym that morning. “I just didn’t fucking feel like it, okay?” he snapped loud enough to be heard all throughout the common room.

Word travels fast in 1-A, and it wasn’t long until everyone was aware of his mood and steered clear of him entirely. Unfortunately, that also meant that Kirishima heard that he hadn’t gone to train, and the lingering guilty looks he kept sending Katsuki’s way was enough to drive him up a wall. Was it too much to ask for a single day that didn’t irritate him that week?

When he quietly slipped out of the dorms thirty minutes before class was set to start, he’d been hoping to take a quick walk by himself to cool down. Instead, Kaminari exited right behind him and jogged to catch up. “Good morning, Kacchan. Sleep well?”

“No. Fuck off,” he grumbled in response.

“You looked like you could use some company,” Kaminari said patiently.

Katsuki tried his best not to snap at him for the stupid comment. They were both silent as Katsuki turned on the path to walk through the trees, and Kaminari followed close behind. At first he was on guard, waiting for the dumbass to say something else that would inevitably piss him off, but he never did. He slowly relaxed, and the anger faded almost entirely with ten minutes to spare until class.

They both hesitated at the edge of the trees, just before they would be in view of anyone by the dorms. Katsuki stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t willing to thank him, exactly, but he did kind of have the urge to kiss him and the only word he had to describe the emotion he was feeling was gratitude.

Kaminari saw something in his face that made him smirk. “We should get to class,” he suggested cheekily.

That should have pissed him off. He should be so mad right now. Under normal circumstances, Kaminari’s head would have been blown to pieces the second he made that stupid smug face as if he knew exactly what Katsuki was thinking. Instead, he was forced to fight for his life against the smile that was threatening to grace his lips. He turned down his eyebrows, pressed his lips together, and hummed in agreement, then ducked his head and sped down the path towards the school.

The day actually wasn’t so bad after that. Kirishima seemed to be reassured by his improved mood and went back to his normal self, or as normal as he could be when he was overworked and ready to keel over at any minute. Kaminari didn’t seem to be paying him any mind at all, and instead was completely focused on trying to get Kirishima to laugh as much as possible, which was something that Katsuki could appreciate. Deku’s muttering wasn’t even as annoying as it usually was.

All good things must come to an end, though, as he found out when All Might showed up and told them that their heroics class would take place sitting down in the 1-A classroom. They were learning about conflict resolution, apparently, and would be watching a video which showed several examples. They were expected to write short essays on how they would mediate in six different scenarios and present them to the class.

Katsuki wasn’t one to complain about schoolwork. He always got his shit done in a timely manner, not just because he was an amazing student, but also because it just wasn’t that hard. This assignment, though, felt like it was targeted directly at each and every one of his weak points. That theory was proven even further as soon as the video started.

His pencil was hovering over the page in anticipation as the lights were turned low and a title screen introduced the scenario as Example #1. The frame zoomed in on the image of a man standing over a boy much smaller than him. He was shouting something about poor grades and how disappointed he was, and—oh. That was the boy’s father.

Without his permission, Katsuki’s mind drifted to a place outside of himself. The man was replaced with his own mother, and he recalled numerous occasions where he’d heard this same speech from her. He wondered if the boy in the video truly had poor grades, or if, like him, he tried his hardest to succeed and it was still never enough to satisfy his parent.

Conflict resolution, huh? Well, if he had the answers to this question, maybe his suffering would have ended a long time ago. He stared at the screen in front of him for a long time, watching idly as the man continued to berate his own son, and tried to come up with something, anything, to write on the page.

As a hero, this question should be easy. “What would you do?” He would help the boy, of course, because that was his job. It was the how that drew blanks for him. The video was paused, and Katsuki heard everyone around him scratching their papers in their haste to answer a question that he could barely begin to comprehend.

He looked down at his slightly shaky hand, still hovering in place, just so that he looked a little less out of place in the sea of students who were all diligently working while he was stuck in a completely different frame of mind.

Katsuki’s father always said that the yelling was just her way of showing that she cared. She wanted him to get good grades because she cared. She wanted him to clean up after himself properly because she cared. She would rather he stay home all day and have no friends because the world is dangerous, and she cared. The discipline was just a motivator to do things her way, the right way.

Example #2 began to play, and it really wasn’t fair to lead with a topic so heavy and then switch gears to a video of two grown adults arguing over custody of their dog. Katsuki wasn’t even done considering where to begin for the first one. There was no way he could keep up with this kind of emotional whiplash. His mother would definitely be disappointed by his performance in this particular assignment, but she might also find it just a little bit funny that something so small managed to throw him off so hard.

The hag’s version of caring didn’t bother him much until he found out just how wrong it was. He always knew it was different, of course, with Deku’s mom as an example throughout his early years, but as a kid, he imagined that it just made him stronger. His mom probably thought that, too.

It wasn’t until he met people who truly cared for him that he started to feel the pain that came with the realization that ultimately, she never did. It was Kirishima’s encouraging words and unwavering friendship that broke through to him first, then All Might’s apology for putting too much on his shoulders, and, most recently, the look in Kaminari’s eyes whenever they were alone. Those moments shook him to his core, and he didn’t even truly realize it until far too late.

Example #3 was next, and Katsuki didn’t bother to watch any of it. He wondered when exactly he started to fear his own mother more than he feared his enemies. He wondered who she would have taken out all of her anger on if he was never born.

He needed to pull himself together enough to finish at least the last half of this assignment. Thinking happy thoughts was a thing people do in these situations, right? Against his will, his focus wandered to the events of the night before. He remembered the moment when Kaminari pressed his lips against his cheek and felt a stab of pain in his chest in place of the blooming feeling he’d had before. More than anything, he wanted a name for that emotion, and he wanted to understand where it came from.

With some consideration, Katsuki first concluded that no one had ever looked at him with so much reverence before. Deku, sure, had some kind of weird admiration for him, but it was more like being placed on a pedestal. The look he’d seen in Kaminari’s eyes was personal. It felt like he was beside him, looking deep into his soul, and he still liked what he saw.

That wasn’t what had caused the unnamed emotion, though. He watched the title for Example #4 pop onto the screen. The thing that had caused the feeling was the moment that Kaminari finally returned the kiss he’d been given before. Katsuki had kissed him on the cheek, and he’d been kissed on the cheek in return. It was an equal exchange. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. He was acting like a child about it, truly.

…Truly…

Actually, the last time he’d received a kiss on the cheek was when he was a child. Actually, the last person who had ever given him a kiss on the cheek was fucking Deku, long before he’d discovered he was quirkless. Before All Might, he couldn’t even remember the last time an adult gave him a hug. Kirishima was probably the first person his age who’d ever even tried it.

As Example #5 began to play, Katsuki tried to set his pencil down. His hands were visibly shaking now. The pencil clattered to the desk so loudly that he was sure it would cause him to be noticed, but everyone continued to watch the video with rapt attention. He placed his hands in his lap and stared down at the empty page.

The emotion was still unidentified, but he couldn’t spend another moment of class thinking about it. His heartrate was speeding up to a point that would soon become unmanageable, and his breath came in short puffs. He couldn’t afford to break down in the middle of class when they were just doing busywork. What would people think if he was caught crying to a video of a couple of road ragers arguing over who caused the crash?

He sat still, took deep controlled breaths, and tried not to think about the fact that he needed to calm down before the video ended, then stay calm despite the fact that he didn’t have a single thing to present to the class. The title screen for Example #6 came and went, and Katsuki estimated he probably had around five more minutes until the lights would turn on and his predicament would be painfully obvious to anyone who had eyes. The panic began to build again despite his best efforts.

A finger tapping his shoulder startled him. He almost expected to turn around and see Deku leaning forward over his desk, but what he found instead was a figure crouched beside him in the dark. “Let’s get out of here,” the figure said.

Their voice was familiar but Katsuki was way too out of it to even attempt to put a name to it. He didn’t say a word, but he stood quietly and allowed them to guide him out of the room and into the hall. The light was blinding after spending so much time in the dark. Several people groaned in pain behind them before the door was closed again.

Katsuki shielded his eyes by burying his face into his elbow and allowed the person to drag him through the halls. He didn’t uncover his face until he heard the front doors opening.

“We’re going to the dorms,” Jirou informed him quietly.

They did exactly that, but rather than heading upstairs for privacy, Jirou brought him to the set of couches by the TV and guided him down to take a seat.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” she practically whispered.

It took about 3 seconds of sitting there, alone and in silence, for the embarrassment to settle in. He’d just had some kind of freak-out that was so bad that Jirou had noticed it even in the dark. Then, he’d just let her drag him around without so much as a complaint. What was he thinking? Did anyone else see?

Katsuki almost stood to go hide in his room and continue his breakdown in peace, but Jirou appeared in front of him again with a blanket and a cup of tea. She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like he was a child and placed the tea on the table in front of him. “It was that first one, wasn’t it?” she asked quietly. Katsuki said nothing. “Skip the rest of class. I’ll cover for you.”

“I don’t need to skip class,” Katsuki insisted. The shakes, it turned out, weren’t just in his hands. His teeth chattered as he spoke.

“It’s the last period of the day. You’re only missing, like, an hour,” she reassured him. “What would you even do if you stayed? I saw your paper, Blasty.”

He clenched his shaking jaw and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. “I’m not—I’m not—I don’t need—”

“I know,” Jirou interrupted firmly. “I know, remember? You don’t need help, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. I’ll keep saying this until you get it through your thick skull.”

Katsuki looked up at her and growled. She stared down at him with a familiar fire in her eyes.

“I have to get back,” she announced. “You have about an hour before this room floods with curious people who will all be dying to know why you left. You’ll probably want to be gone by then.”

“I fucking know,” he muttered.

“I know you do,” Jirou said with a smirk. She walked back through the doors without another word.

Katsuki picked up the cup of tea and glared through the window at Jirou’s retreating form. He couldn’t even begin to sort through the painful whirlwind of feelings that were caused by that entire interaction. He didn’t have the emotional energy to even continue to sort through whatever he’d been forced into thinking about in the middle of class, either.

So, he sat there in silence and sipped his tea. After this, he would make some dinner for Kirishima to come home to and go upstairs to lay in Kaminari’s bed for the next six hours, whether he was interrupted or not. It was like he’d already decided that morning.

One day of rest isn’t the end of the world.

Kirishima’s motto of “one step forward, ten steps back” was definitely one to live by when it came to understanding Bakugou. Denki was already aware of this, but the pattern was remarkably clear now that he’d seen it in action a couple of times. Currently, they stood in the ten steps back phase, and he was determined to break the cycle.

Bakugou had yet to initiate anything since that first night, and he’d seemed reluctant at best to reciprocate anything at all. Even earlier that morning, Denki only needed to take one look into his eyes to see that they were full of feeling, but the guy didn’t move an inch. It was becoming more than just embarrassment, in his opinion. It was turning into fear, and Denki wasn’t going to let that go on for any longer than it had to.

Making sure that Bakugou knew he was safe would be a difficult task for anybody, but in Denki’s case he was sure that failure would mean death. He hadn’t forgotten the violent reactions he’d gotten in the past after his attempts at talking about anything, much less feelings. Now that he knew a little more about the way the guy operates, though, he thought he might have just the slightest chance of success.

Telling Bakugou what to feel and how to handle those feelings would possibly be the quickest way to get himself thrown off the balcony. Instead, he’d have to find a way to show him he was safe through action. That was obviously much easier said than done.

Denki really expected to have at least the rest of the afternoon to figure out his plan, but the moment he opened his door and stepped inside, he threw that all away. Bakugou was laying in his bed, underneath the blanket, with one of the common room throws wrapped around his shoulders and bunched up over his nose. He didn’t even acknowledge that the door had opened at all. He just laid there, glaring tiredly at the wall in front of him.

“Hey, Kacchan,” Denki greeted hesitantly. “What’s up?”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbled tiredly into the blanket.

So far, this was completely off the rails of what he’d expected. Bakugou’s mood had improved substantially after their morning walk, and he didn’t have the slightest idea of when that had changed. He got into his pajamas quietly, already sure of the fact that he was probably going to end up in his room for the rest of the night anyway.

“Any ideas about the game for tonight?” Denki finally asked while he pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks.

“Don’t care,” Bakugou muttered. “You pick.”

Yikes, if that wasn’t a bad sign, he didn’t know what was. Bakugou had been pretty consistent so far. The worse his mood, the worse the horror game. Somehow, the idea that he’d relinquish control completely and give Denki free reign of the library was scarier than any game he could have chosen.

Denki swallowed his nerves. “Did you eat yet?” he asked.

Bakugou finally moved his head to glare at him. “Not hungry.”

The glare was possibly the tamest that he’d ever received. He blinked at him, then took a breath. “Kay. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” Bakugou sighed and laid back down in the same place as before.

Denki strode through the hall with purpose. At some point in the middle of class, Jirou had taken Bakugou out of the room only to come back minutes later and announce that he had an upset stomach. Only half of the class and All Might believed it. The rest were certain there was something else much more mysterious that caused his absence.

Of course they were right. He felt a little silly knowing he’d actually believed the cover story. There was no way Bakugou would skip class of his own free will, much less for something as simple as a stomachache.

Jirou was still in the common room, thankfully. He jogged over to her and tried to ignore the raised eyebrows she was giving him for his fashion choices. Pajamas at 4pm was absolutely reasonable in this situation, and not a single judgmental stare was enough to stop him.

“Is Kacchan okay?” he asked in a whisper.

She rolled her eyes and dragged him further away from the crowd of their classmates. “You saw him, right? He’s a fucking mess.”

Denki’s jaw dropped. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far—”

“He is,” she insisted. “And you saw the video too, didn’t you? It upset him. Just leave him be for a little while, okay?”

She couldn’t possibly know that Bakugou was currently in his room, or that Denki planned on doing the exact opposite of that. “Got it. I’ll leave him alone,” he lied with a smile.

It didn’t take any further details for him to be sure of exactly which video Jirou was referring to. The fact that he hadn’t even considered how painful that must’ve been for Bakugou to see brought shame to his heart, but at least now he knew to be more watchful for things like that. He entered the kitchen and made himself some instant ramen to take up to his room.

“Hey, Kaminari! Are we having a pajama party?” Mina’s voice came from behind him.

He spun around with a hand over his ramen cup to see her and Sero walking up to him. She held a playful grin, but Sero’s look was almost calculating. “No, sorry, guys,” he said sheepishly. “I’m just grabbing this to eat up in my room. I might not be down again tonight.”

“Dude, it’s four. You don’t usually go to bed for another twelve hours,” Sero complained, his voice dripping with suspicion.

There was no time to argue with the jab. “MMOs, man,” Denki said quickly. “You know how they are. See you tomorrow!”

He rushed out of the kitchen and into the elevator before they could say another word.

Obviously, he wasn’t about to just pick whatever game he wanted, but he wasn’t going to pick something really scary either. It didn’t take him much consideration. He already decided on Subnautica before he even got back to his floor. It was the first game they’d played together, and it was definitely Bakugou’s favorite, although he’d never admit it.

When he entered his room again, he found Bakugou in the exact same position he’d been in before. He hadn’t moved an inch. Denki didn’t say a word, and walked over to his desk to start up the game while he ate. It took so long to load that he finished the cup long before the file opened.

There was just enough room for Denki to squeeze underneath the covers right in front of Bakugou, and surprisingly enough, the guy didn’t even grumble in complaint. The save file from their first playthrough sat gathering dust on his home computer, but they’d already started a new one earlier in the week. He was just glad he wouldn’t have to start from scratch again.

He didn’t get very far before he had to pause, because the body pressed against his back was shaking. Denki dropped the remote on the floor and spun around. Bakugou’s entire face was hidden in the throw blanket. “Hey,” he whispered. When he didn’t get a response, he sat up and put a hand gently on his shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

Bakugou hunched his shoulders slightly, but didn’t shake his hand off. “Why,” his voice came from deep in the blanket.

Denki blinked. “Why? Do you mean the game?” The bundle gave a grunt of affirmation. “It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

The blanket moved slightly, and red eyes finally peaked up at him. His eyebrows were downturned into a glare, but his eyes didn’t reflect anger. He looked like he was in pain.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I know what it is,” Denki admitted. “I asked Jirou. She told me to leave you be.” He brushed the spiky hair away from his forehead to give Bakugou more room to glare up at him.

“She gives good advice,” he grumbled.

“Well, it’s not my style,” Denki said, unable to hold back his smirk. “So, I decided on an early night snuggling with my bro and playing his favorite game.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed into a squint. “When I told you not to call me that dumbass nickname, I didn’t think I needed to clarify that ‘bro’ in general is off-limits,” he said tiredly into the blanket. “I guess I should have known.”

Denki gave him a scoff of mock offence. “What do you mean?”

“That you’re stupid,” he deadpanned.

“So cruel,” Denki pouted. He leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead and revelled in the fact that Bakugou subconsciously chased after him when he pulled away. His eyes had closed, but his eyebrows were still drawn together slightly. “Can I see your face, Kacchan?”

Bakugou peaked an eye open. “You’re being weird,” he informed him.

“Please?”

With a groan, Bakugou conceded and removed the blanket from in front of him. Denki shifted so that he was leaning more against his elbow and raised both hands to his cheeks. Like holding an active landmine, he remembered thinking before. That description still held true. He grazed his thumbs lightly under his eyes and planted another gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

“What am I allowed to call you? Since ‘bro’ is off-limits,” Denki whispered.

He took a shaky breath and looked up at him with guarded eyes. “The one you’ve been saying is still okay. Or Katsuki, I guess.”

Denki gasped. “I get given name privileges?”

“Not if you’re gonna be fuckin’ weird about it,” Katsuki grumbled.

He let go of his face and gave his shoulder a nudge to indicate he should lie on his back. Surprisingly, he did. “Oh, I won’t be weird,” he promised as he sat up and threw a knee over his waist. He took hold of his face again and kissed his left cheekbone. “You can call me Denki.”

“’Course I can,” he mumbled. His eyes were closed again, and the wrinkle between his brows had grown deeper. Denki leaned down again to plant a kiss there, hoping to smooth it out.

He ran his hands through his hair and scratched his scalp lightly in an effort to help Katsuki relax, but his face remained the same. Even with his eyes closed, he still looked hurt. “I can’t believe I get this,” he whispered, leaning down to touch his forehead to Katsuki’s. “I feel so lucky.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched and his frown deepened, but he didn’t say a word in response. He was impossible to read. Denki left a barely-there kiss beside each downturned corner of his lips.

“I kind of feel like you’re out of my league,” he continued, brushing his nose against his right cheek. “It’s a little overwhelming, but I’m really happy.”

A fist came up between them and landed gently over Katsuki’s still closed eyes. He was hiding, and his bottom lip trembled only just enough to be noticeable. This was definitely something that Kirishima would be better equipped to handle, but he wasn’t there, so Denki needed to try his best.

“Talk to me, Kacchan,” he said softly. He leaned back, but kept his hands on either side of his face. “What’s going on?” Katsuki’s breath picked up further, and he moved his arm to bury his face into his elbow. “Say something.”

Katsuki’s response was worse than anticipated. The noise that came from his throat sounded like a choked sob, and Denki took in a sharp breath. He brushed his thumbs over his cheeks again and found they were damp with tears. “Sto-op,” Katsuki stuttered through clenched teeth, his voice smaller than he’d ever heard it.

Denki removed his hands immediately, but that only seemed to make things worse. Katsuki’s breath hissed through his teeth in a stuttered and disjointed way, and his shoulders started to shake. “What’s wrong?” he asked, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

“I don’t fucking know, you ass!” Katsuki raised his voice, forcing the words out through another sob, and it was clear now that he was crying in fervor. His mouth opened like he was going to say something else, then closed again in a tight line.

Denki felt something click in his brain. It should have been so obvious. The guy had been shaking with effort the entire time. It was just like his reluctance to reciprocate the night before, or his hesitation that morning. He was holding back.

Denki moved off of him and pulled Katsuki until they were lying down facing each other again. He rubbed his hand up and down his arm. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered.

“Stop,” Katsuki sobbed the warning in a way that wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he probably meant it to be.

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “Kacchan, can I see your face again?”

Katsuki’s nose wrinkled in distaste, barely visible behind his elbow. “No,” he said petulantly.

“Please,” he said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “It’s just me.” The arm didn’t move, but Katsuki’s mouth wobbled. “It’s me. I won’t hurt you,” he promised softly.

The dam was officially broken. Katsuki’s arm came down and he fisted both hands in Denki’s shirt as if he were planning to attack him, but instead of shoving him away, he just held on. His sobs were open and came too fast, and tears streamed down his scrunched-up face. It was the saddest thing Denki had ever seen.

He wrapped his arms around Katsuki and pulled him in closer to allow him to cry into his shoulder. He whispered hushed reassurances and praise, and didn’t dare shush him or say anything that could discourage him from letting go. The tears didn’t stop for far too long, and his breath didn’t even out for even longer.

In the end, Katsuki passed out from the exhaustion before they could talk about what happened, but Denki had a feeling that he would never explain anyways. He couldn’t bring himself to let go or leave the guy alone, so he allowed his eyes to drift shut. Sero hadn’t been too far off about his poor sleeping schedule earlier. It was probably about time to fix it.

The last thought he had before sleep took him was to wonder if he would survive the backlash of allowing Katsuki to sleep in his room.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long at all to discover that he’d created a monster.

Bakugou Katsuki, for all intents and purposes, was like an onion. The first layer, of course, was the anger that he exuded into everything he did. The next was the now infamous one step forward, ten steps back puzzle. Once that was solved, however, as Denki had done expertly, one would find themselves faced with something that was rather unexpected, but somehow not at all out of character.

When all of this had started, the absolute last concern Denki had was how to navigate PDA. They were both still deeply embedded in the closet. Their entire friendship had grown behind closed doors, unbeknownst to anyone in the class. If he were to tell someone right then that he and Katsuki spent nearly every night together, they would laugh in his face. The idea that the two would share soft touches and light kisses might sound like nothing more than a sad joke.

Despite all of this, Katsuki seemed to take immense joy in tempting fate.

His hesitance from before was almost nonexistent. As Denki quickly learned, those vague complaints about ‘making it weird’ actually referred to something quite a bit more vulnerable than the words indicated. Every single casual kiss on the cheek was met with no resistance. As long as he did so without any feeling, his cuddles were easily reciprocated. It was only when Denki treated him tenderly that he seemed to get a little nervous. As if the idea of being cared for was foreign to him, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Still, he didn’t hold back anymore. In the privacy of Denki’s room, he had no problem with laying across his lap, leaning in to peck at his face whenever the game got a little scary, or even outright pulling him down to wrap him in a spoon-like cuddle. Gone were the days of sitting on the floor at the edge of the bed. Now, Katsuki only sat there if he brought food up with him, and all other moments were spent on the bed, firmly attached to Denki’s side.

Denki didn’t mind this, obviously. It was great, in fact. The issue began when Denki suggested that they start spending time with the squad together in the common room before heading upstairs. Katsuki had given him that same murder-smile he’d received when he offered the sleepover that fateful morning, and it was clear from that moment that he’d unleashed a beast that would be impossible to contain.

There was little warning. Katsuki would simply send him a look with sharp eyes and an upward twitch of his lips, then he’d make some passing comment that made the nature of their relationship all too clear, while still remaining vague enough to go unnoticed. Either that, or he’d bump into him a little too softly with a whisper of ‘oops,’ or sit just a little too close on the couches.

Not a single person suspected anything, somehow, and that made it worse. Although Katsuki’s intentions were clearly marked as evil with his cruel smirks and lingering squints, the actions were still oh so casual and not much different at all from the ones they shared in private. Minus the actual kissing and clearly un-friendly things, of course.

So, Denki would not be to blame for the incident that happened one day later that week when they were hanging out on the couches with a small group of their classmates. Everyone was entirely focused on something that Midoriya was saying, but he was a little distracted by the show they had playing on the TV in the background, and he was starting to get a little thirsty.

Katsuki sat beside him, also not paying attention because of course he wasn’t. It was Midoriya, after all. He was leaning back against the cushion, one foot on the table, scrolling through social media on his phone. In an act that was more instinct than anything, Denki leaned over to peck a kiss onto his forehead as he stood up, just to inform him that he would be right back without so many words. In response to this, probably in very much the same instinctual manner, Katsuki simply sat up and removed his foot from the table to allow Denki to move past without taking his eyes off of his phone.

Denki didn’t notice what he’d done until he was re-entering the room to find Sero’s alarmed and confused eyes on him. Everyone else was chatting away without a care in the world, but he was entirely focused on Denki. His eyes flicked to Katsuki subtly and he raised a hand in question, as if to ask, what the fuck was that?

There was a moment of lag in his brain, and his eyes widened in realization. He pulled out his phone and shot a couple quick texts to Sero.

Not a word

Don’t ruin this for me dude

Sero glanced between him and his phone with a bewildered look on his face. He typed furiously, and Denki’s phone dinged a second later.

Ruin what???

He left him on read. This would possibly be the worst way he could come out to anyone, ever. Maybe Sero would just forget about it. Denki was a very touchy dude in general, so it wasn’t all that weird for him to act that way platonically, surely.

This was all Katsuki’s fault. He was a menace.

After that, it was probably pretty freaking clear to Sero that their relationship had, in fact, improved past the phase that Denki had complained of almost a month before, but he never commented on it. He didn’t try to pull him aside to speak about it privately, or even joke about it. He didn’t even seem to consider the idea that it was more than platonic. It was just what Denki had hoped for, but it still left him plenty confused.

It took until the weekend for their friends to really get a hint. Kirishima was forced to cancel on their plans to go shopping so that he could finish up some paperwork, which would normally mean that Katsuki was canceling as well. It wasn’t strange for the guy to be seen around the common room hovering nearby the group even without Kirishima around, but going out in public with just Mina, Sero, and Denki was unheard of.

When Kirishima left to go to the office, all four of them saw him off and began to discuss their rearranged plans. There were shops that Kirishima wanted to go to specifically, but without him there they had the time to pick a couple different ones. Katsuki started to turn away and head to the elevator.

“Kacchan!” Denki called. He turned around reluctantly with a tired glare. “You’re still coming with us, right?”

Katsuki stared at each of them individually for an awkwardly silent moment.

Denki gave his cutest pout. “Please?”

“Fuck you,” he sighed with a roll of his eyes. He continued to stomp toward the elevator.

“Hey, worth a shot,” Sero tried to encourage him.

It was no surprise that he’d missed the true meaning of that interaction. To the naked eye, it was nearly impossible to see the difference between his regular tired sigh and one of resignation. Denki shot him a smug grin, then called. “Don’t forget your wallet!”

“The fuck do you think I’m doing?” Katsuki shouted. The doors closed on his offended squint and raised middle finger.

The two in his company were stunned into silence. “Holy shit, you actually learned to speak Bakugou?” Mina asked excitedly. “When did you find the time?”

Sero hummed thoughtfully. “This explains why he didn’t murder you in the common room the other day,” he said, as if that was the only strange thing about the interaction. “What gives, man? Why haven’t you talked about it?”

“It was all a very delicate process,” he said, nodding solemnly along despite the smile on his face. “Kirishima still has me beat, though,” he admitted honestly. Despite all their progress, which may seem much further than Kirishima’s, the red-head still owned Katsuki’s heart. Denki didn’t mind, though. He wasn’t there for his heart, after all. He was just there for his kisses.

“Obviously,” Mina snorted. “Kiri has him wrapped around his finger.”

“I dunno,” Sero said, amused. “He didn’t put up much of a fight just now. I think you’re getting pretty close.”

The elevator doors opened again and Katsuki stalked out. “You fucks better take me somewhere interesting,” he growled as he brushed past them.

Denki grinned after him. “Pretty close,” he repeated vaguely. Something like that.

Four days. Four more days until Kirishima’s work-study was officially over.

Katsuki was going to die waiting for him. The whole mission lasted nearly a month, and while he was given more time for rest toward the end, he was still too busy to spend time with Katsuki for the entire thing. He was deprived. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with Denki. In fact, he liked it a whole lot more than he was willing to verbally admit to anyone. His whole life was spent focused on one thing and one thing only: becoming number one. With Denki, he allowed himself to lose focus for just a little bit each night. It was surprisingly refreshing. Invigorating, even. Despite the sheer amount of time he’d spent that month fucking off and sitting around in his room, he was doing better than ever in his classes, and Denki was too.

Still, that was so much different than being with Kirishima. Katsuki was willing to admit now that maybe his feelings for him extended quite a bit further past friendship than he previously thought. It was hard not to see the stark contrast in how he considered Kirishima to how he viewed a friend now that he actually had something to compare it to.

Even if his friendship with Denki wasn’t exactly… conventional.

Spending time with Kirishima just felt normal to him now. Not having him around was torturous. It was like being forced to live life after having a limb torn off, and everyone expected him to go on as though it didn’t affect him.

“Ugh,” Mina’s disgusted scoff cut him out of his thoughts. She dropped her tray in the spot right across the table from him, in between Jirou and Denki. “Sometimes I don’t understand Hagakure.”

“Oh, boy,” Jirou said with a barely hidden smirk of amusement. “Do we want to know?”

“No,” Mina insisted petulantly. She went on anyway. “She just has bad taste. No offense, Kaminari.”

Denki’s head popped up in alarm. “Me?” he squeaked.

Mina broke her chopsticks and stabbed them into her bowl with an uncharacteristic sneer. “I say this purely platonically,” she started robotically. “You’re not without your charms, but she was talking about kissing and—ugh.”

“Oh, no,” Jirou said, officially failing at hiding her smile. “Kaminari?”

Denki didn’t seem offended at all before Jirou’s comment, but at her disbelieving tone, he seemed to deflate a bit. “Come on, guys,” he whined in protest. Katsuki snorted.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Mina cringed. “I know you. You would not be a good kisser.”

Denki’s jaw dropped. Before he could even begin to defend himself, Katsuki stepped in. “Mm, no, it’s a little like if you rubbed two balloons together and stuck one on your face.”

Jirou and Mina looked up at him in alarm. Denki pouted like a kicked puppy.

“It’s a fucking joke,” he grumbled irritably.

Mina slumped in relief. “Oh, jeez, Bakugou!” she whined miserably.

“I guess it probably would be something like that, huh?” Jirou said, grin back in place and looking down at her bowl. “Comment, Kaminari?”

Denki still hadn’t recovered from the shock. Katsuki watched him flounder for a moment with great satisfaction. “Well—I wouldn’t know, guys, come on,” he stuttered awkwardly.

“Wouldn’t know what?” Sero’s voice drifted behind him. Katsuki spun around to see him and Kirishima approaching together with their trays. Finally.

“Wouldn’t know if kissing him would cause a static shock,” Mina sighed, then she stiffened. “Wait, that sounds bad. This conversation started with me saying it would be gross to kiss him.”

Kirishima laughed, taking his seat beside Katsuki. “Aw, it wouldn’t be that bad, would it?” he teased. “Aren’t you just inexperienced?”

The table lit up with laughs at Denki’s expense, and he buried his face in his hands. After an awkwardly long hesitation, he managed to stutter out, “As—as if you’re not.”

Goddamnit, Denki.

Silence. “Kaminari…” Sero said slyly. “Are you inexperienced?”

Denki’s blush grew three shades deeper underneath his hands. “Stop, it’s not what you’re thinking,” he whined. “Leave me alone.”

“No way!” Mina shrieked. She paused. “Wait, was it Hagakure?” she asked suspiciously.

“No,” Denki moaned pathetically. “Stop.”

Jirou cleared her throat loudly, bringing everyone’s attention to herself rather than Denki. “So, that movie night, huh?”

“Traitor,” Mina hissed.

“Oh, right,” Kirishima said cheerfully. “I’m so ready for this weekend. I don’t think I’ve had a chance to relax all month.”

“You haven’t,” Katsuki muttered.

“I heard that Yaoyorozu and Iida put it off until this weekend specifically so you could join us,” Sero commented through a mouthful of food. “It was supposed to be sometime last week.

Kirishima turned to him, eyes shining. “Did they really? For me?”

Jirou hummed in confirmation. “Momo was talking to me about it, actually. They thought you might want something to look forward to, and it doesn’t hurt to wait just one more week.”

“That’s so nice,” Kirishima said, voice watery, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll have to find some way to thank them.”

The movie night wasn’t something that Katsuki was looking forward to. It was the fact that it was Kirishima’s first real night off that had him waiting in anticipation. He was sure that Kirishima would be preoccupied with the movie and his other friends, but all he needed was the chance to just exist in his presence for a while.

“Bakugou,” a voice spoke from the end of the table, startling the whole group. Katsuki looked up to find Aizawa giving him a calculating look. He said nothing else. In lieu of words, he simply nodded toward the doors of the cafeteria and walked away.

“Well, I guess you’d better go see what he wants,” Kirishima mumbled beside him, failing to conceal his disappointment. Lunch was basically the only time they had together anymore. It seemed that Katsuki wasn’t the only one who’d made that observation.

Warmth bloomed in the pit of his stomach and he stood, giving Kirishima’s carefully spiked hair a good ruffling. He whined in protest, but Katsuki ignored it. “Four more days,” he reminded him quietly.

The tension in Kirishima’s shoulders fell, and he gave Katsuki a tiny smile.

For better or for worse, the teacher didn’t leave Katsuki wondering what this was about for very long. As soon as the doorway into the classroom had closed behind them, he spoke again. “It’s not like you to skip class.”

Katsuki swallowed hard. Aizawa turned around and leaned back against the podium with crossed arms. He was waiting for a response, and it didn’t seem like he was going to move on without one. “I had a stomach ache,” he mumbled half-heartedly.

“I heard,” Aizawa replied quickly. He turned around to step to the other side of the podium and shuffled through some papers. “All might gave me your copy of the assignment,” he informed him without looking up. “It’s notably lacking in… ah, any content at all, actually.” Aizawa pulled out an empty page and took it to the desk right beside Katsuki. He placed it right in clear view. “To be clear, you’re not in trouble. I just want to help. Was there something about the assignment that you didn’t understand?”

“No!” Katsuki sneered indignantly. A moment later, he realized that he’d effectively destroyed his only out.

“So, what was it, then?” Aizawa didn’t quite seem angry, but there was something intense about his tone that Katsuki didn’t have a name for. “Was it the question? Or was it the content of the movie? Did something outside of class upset you?”

Katsuki kept his mouth shut.

“I’m just trying to figure out how to help you,” he explained patiently. “Taking a failing grade on this assignment may seriously affect your rankings in the class. I know you don’t want that. I need to know exactly what made this assignment so hard for you so that I can give you the tools necessary to complete it.”

Again, Katsuki remained silent, but Aizawa didn’t go on. He waited for a response and showed no signs that he planned to move on without one, just like before.

Obviously, Katsuki couldn’t tell the truth. He couldn’t tell his teacher that the reason he couldn't complete the assignment was because it made him too emotional. He especially couldn’t tell him exactly what part of it had made him like that. Anything he said here could cause problems for himself and his parents, and there was only one foreseeable outcome of that.

Anything that caused inconvenience to his mother was surely something that only Katsuki would see the consequences of.

“I just felt sick,” Katsuki mumbled, staring at the grain of the wood beside the empty page. “Couldn’t focus, I guess.”

“So, if I had you sit down right now and retry, you would be able to do it with no problem?” Aizawa asked, clearly unconvinced.

He was right, though.

They stood in another silent stand-off for far too long. The end was marked by Aizawa’s eyes flicking up to the clock, then back down at Katsuki. “We’ll discuss this more later. I hope next time you’ll be a little more forthcoming.” A pause. “Go prepare for your next class.”

Katsuki was out the door in a flash.

He entered the restroom and took a quick glance around. No one was around to witness his moment of weakness. He took a deep, calming breath and turned on the sink. He splashed his face with some cool water and washed his hands to occupy himself.

It wasn’t so bad. Aizawa couldn’t force him to talk, and even if he did, he probably couldn’t do much of anything, really. This was fine.

As he was drying his hands, the door opened behind him. The footsteps hesitated long enough for the door to drift back shut, then a person was suddenly attached to his back. “Kacchan,” Denki whined miserably. “You were kidding about the balloon thing, right?”

Katsuki shrugged him off and reached for the paper towels with a scoff. “That’s the first thing you have to say to me?”

“Oh, right!” he said, as though he’d just recalled an important piece of information. He turned on the sink to wash his own hands. “What did Aizawa want? Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Katsuki replied simply, leaning back against the counter. “It’s only like that when you’re surprised.”

“Wha—” It took Denki a moment to realize what he was referring to. “No,” he lamented. “You’re lying! You’re messing with me right now!”

His distraught look was almost enough to make Katsuki feel bad. Almost. “Mm, nope. No joke here.”

“You—Kacchan, I’m serious, I can’t live with this,” he whined, shutting off the sink and grabbing a towel for himself.

“You’re the one who asked. I could’ve kept it to myself,” Katsuki informed him seriously.

Denki leaned back against the counter beside him and tossed the paper towel across the room, somehow managing to actually make it into the trashcan. “You dodged my question about Aizawa,” he muttered dejectedly.

“I’m aware,” Katsuki replied flatly. Then, because he didn’t have an ounce of self-control, he leaned in to give Denki the quickest peck on the cheek. Unsurprisingly, this resulted in the exact static shock he’d described. “See?” he whispered, centimeters from his face.

Denki pulled back and gaped at him. “Oh my god!” he hissed. “I can’t believe you just did that to prove a point! What if someone walked in?”

“You’re paranoid,” Katsuki informed him with a smirk. “No one pays attention.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. They both stood to continue this discussion on their way to class, but before Denki had the chance to say a word, a sound from behind them had them both stopping in their tracks.

One of the toilets flushed.

Katsuki was certain there hadn’t been anyone in there when he walked in. There were no feet visible under the stalls, but he didn’t have a chance to take a closer look. Denki grabbed his wrist and bolted out of the bathrooms, dragging Katsuki along with him until they were a safe distance away.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the walk to class.

Chapter Text

“Hello everybody!”

Katsuki’s hands clapped over his ears instinctively. It wasn’t often that he was forced to hear Present Mic’s voice this early in the morning, but still, he was embarrassed by how it caught him off guard. 

“Where’s Aizawa?” Iida was the first to ask the question that must’ve been on everyone’s minds. 

“It seems he’s busy for today!” Present Mic announced cheerfully. “So, I’ll be taking over as your substitute.” The room filled with quiet, confused murmurs. Apprehension hung thick in the air. Aizawa isn’t normally one to miss class. “Also, I don’t know what you usually do for this period, so we’re going on a field trip to the museum!” 

At this, all tension melted, and the already inappropriate volume escalated to unbearable levels as the class burst with excitement.

There were a lot of reasons why Katsuki considered it to be a shitty day. He woke up late, he was too groggy to get through more than half of his workout, his breakfast didn’t turn out as well as he’d hoped and for some reason, he could not stop thinking about shitty memories. They weren't anything truly traumatizing, but it was enough. A sudden, unannounced change in routine on top of all of that should have been enough to send him over the edge, but instead, he found himself in a state of apathy. There was nothing he could do at that point. The universe wanted him to have a terrible time, so he supposed that was exactly what he would do. 

“You’ll be split into partners!” Mic shouted over the class once more, much to Katsuki’s displeasure. He tightened his hold on his ears. Partner work wasn’t so bad, as long as Kirishima was around. “I’ll be drawing sticks with your names, so it’s completely random!” 

Of course it would be.

There was still a chance that Katsuki could get lucky. Maybe all the bad karma from the start of the day would catch up and offer him a little bit of good in exchange. Maybe Mic would have mercy and assign them to work together once he noticed Katsuki’s shitty mood. Teachers did stuff like that for him sometimes, just so they wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable meltdown and explosives.

“Kirishima Eijirou and Ashido Mina!”

Okay, well, that was a bust, but it wasn’t like he had much of a chance in the first place. There was still one person he wouldn’t mind working with, even if he was a little stupid—

“Tokoyami Fumikage and Kaminari Denki!”

Katsuki took a deep breath in and exhaled through his nose. He would just have to work with one of the extras. This was fine. He’d already accepted that it was a shitty day, so it was on him for hoping anyways. 

“Midoriya Izuku and—” Mic hesitated for the first time that morning. He looked at the second stick in his hand, then in one subtle but telling glance, he made brief eye contact with Katsuki. 

Katsuki slammed his head loudly onto the desk. 

“Uh—MidoriyaIzukuandBakugouKatsuki, Tenya Iida and Asui Tsuyu!”

It was going to be a long day.

For some reason that no one could fathom, Mic stubbornly pretended that his mistake wasn’t the problem that it was. Despite nervous glances and the subtle shake of Iida’s head, he announced that partners would be travel buddies to the museum and they weren’t to leave each other’s sides. They would sit together on the bus, walk together outside the building, take restroom breaks together, everything. There wouldn’t be a single moment that Katsuki would be free of the nerd until after lunch. That is, unless they ended up stuck together for heroics too, somehow. 

Katsuki didn’t necessarily hate him anymore. Seeing Deku existing in the same room didn’t set him off on its own. As soon as he opened his mouth, though, it was a whole other story, and Deku didn’t seem to have any self-preservation on this day. 

“—really inspiring actually, when you think about it that way.” Katsuki accidentally tuned in to his voice again. “Did you read the plaque, Kacchan? It gives a lot of important insight into this piece. Just looking at it is very abstract, but with the explanation—” 

Deku’s eyes were wide and innocent. How did he manage to look like that while being so endlessly irritating? Was it really unintentional? “I would be able to read the damn plaque if you would shut the fuck up for half a second, Deku,” Katsuki said through gritted teeth. 

Surprisingly, he did. Katsuki read the plaque in complete silence, and then they quietly discussed only the information relevant to the assignment that Mic had given them. This, he could work with. If Deku could just act like a reasonable, normal person—

“Oh! Now this one, this is one of my favorites,” Deku said excitedly. He clapped his hands together despite the page he still had in one, making the sharp sound of skin slapping paper and crumpling it just slightly. “I’ve actually come to visit this one myself a few times,” he went on, unknowing of Katsuki’s growing irritation. “It might not look like it at first glance, but this one is depicting All Might in his silver era!” 

“Of fucking course it’s All Might,” Katsuki spat. 

Deku didn’t seem to hear him. Without an ounce of awareness for the world around him, he proceeded to explain in his own many, many words the exact information that Katsuki could have gotten from reading the plaque. It was endless. He just didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop, unless there was someone who was conveniently standing right there, who was being forced to listen to this bullshit for ten straight minutes, who was willing to knock some goddamned sense into him—

And just then, out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki spotted a spark of bright yellow, closely followed by a dark figure. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was, but he did anyway. They met eyes at the same time. Denki had a brief look of surprise, then quickly schooled his expression. He slid to the nearest wall and leaned against it, then tipped his head down and looked through his eyelashes in what must have been an attempt at a sultry look. 

“Hey Kacchan,” he purred. “Come here often?”

Katsuki wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh so fucking bad. It was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever seen, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was about it that made him want to kiss the fucker. He swallowed hard on the lump that his suppressed giggles had formed. “Fuck off, dunce-face,” he said, far less gruffly than he’d meant to.

“Please don’t lean on the walls,” Tokoyami said patiently. “This is the art exhibit.” 

“You guys are no fun!” Denki whined. He stomped away with a forced pout, but the smug look in his eyes when they made contact with Katsuki’s again said it all. He knew he’d won this round.

“Apologies for the interruption,” Tokoyami sighed as he slowly followed Denki. “How long have you two been in this exhibit?”

“Oh this one’s really easy!” Deku reassured him. He could have left it at that, but he had the nerve to continue with, “We’ve only been in here for a few minutes and we’re almost done!” 

“Only a few god damned minutes—?” Katsuki squeaked incredulously

“I’m sure we’ll take longer!” Denki called from the corner. “Or, maybe we’ll be done first with this guy on my team. It can be a race!”

Tokoyami rubbed his cheeks to hide the blush that was visible to no one. “Ah, I don’t know about that.”

Their voices faded as they rounded the corner. Katsuki looked after them for a moment before turning to look back at the painting. Instead, he was met with Deku’s face.

One hand on his chin, lips moving in silent mumbles that he couldn’t seem to keep to himself, and wide, focused eyes, directed deep into Katsuki’s soul. 

His blood ran cold. “The fuck are you looking at?” he snapped. Deku’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, as if maybe he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. Katsuki grabbed him by the shoulders roughly and spun him around. “Analyze the paintings, fucking creep.”

Denki was dead.

It was no secret that Denki struggled with schoolwork. It was always harder for him to get a grasp on the content of the lectures than it was for other people, and written assignments were boring. He much preferred hands-on learning like in their heroics class, but even that could be a struggle for him sometimes. 

The point was, Denki wasn’t stupid, but he did struggle, yes. So, spending the first half of the day goofing off in a hero museum and the second half goofing off in their heroics class with some game that All Might had made up for them was really perfect. He couldn’t think of another school day that had ever been this much fun, even if he did exit that gym a little charred and loopy. 

It was just his luck that Katsuki had been on the other team, and probably something other than luck that caused Blasty Mc’Die to target Denki and Midoriya almost exclusively.

Still, he felt content. He exited the showers warm and relaxed, and there was even food and company in the common room waiting for him. Katsuki was there too, glaring down at his chicken and rice as if had personally offended him. Denki observed this with a smile, and entered the kitchen to get himself a plate, as well as the one thing that the blond was surely missing.

Someone had ordered takeout for everyone, and there were a lot of options. Not wanting to destroy his moment of comfort, Denki opted for some soup and dumplings rather than anything else from the heaps of fried meats. As good as they looked, they were just a little too heavy for his tastes at the moment. 

As he rounded the corner back into the common room, he subtly snatched the sriracha off of the counter. 

Denki plopped down on the couch right beside Katsuki and held out the bottle for him wordlessly. Crimson eyes trained on the bottle, cold and expressionless, then slowly moved up to Denki’s face. He squinted just slightly, then snatched it out of his hand. 

So, Katsuki was in a bit of a mood. It made sense, really, after he was forced to spend half of his day attached at the hip with his rival. Without much thought, Denki’s eyes wandered the room in search of his fluffy green head, only to find Midoriya was already staring at him. His eyes were calculating, as though he was deep in thought, but as soon as Denki’s met them, he swiftly turned his head to stare at the blank wall beside him. 

Okay… that was weird. 

Midoriya was always a little weird, though, so it wasn’t that abnormal, he supposed. 

The evening was just as much of a blast as the rest of the day had been. Everyone in the class seemed to have the same relaxed energy as Denki did, other than a certain pair, but that was to be expected, really. Denki didn’t pay much mind to their tension. Instead, he, Mina, and Sero worked together in an effort to craft a bento box using all of Kirishima’s favorites so that he would have leftovers when he got back from his shift. It hadn’t escaped their notice that Katsuki had been doing this for him every night, but it was their turn this time. 

When Katsuki entered the kitchen after their absence extended long enough to make him suspicious, the look of relief was obvious on his face. He must have had a really stressful day. Wordlessly, he washed his hands and took to adjusting their work with a pair of chopsticks so that it looked like a proper bento, rather than a box of thrown-together leftovers. Mina wrote a note with Kirishima’s name, as well as a few barely recognizable doodles of the five of them. 

It was adorable, the bento was perfect, and once all of them were satisfied, they stashed it in the fridge in the place where Katsuki had been storing all of Kirishima’s meals that month. 

As the sun went down, the common room began to clear. Denki could see Katsuki waiting by the elevator doors and staring at him a little less than patiently. Honestly, Denki expected he would go straight to bed with how grumpy he’d been all day, but it made him happy to know that even on a day like this, he still didn’t mind spending time with him. In fact, he wanted to. 

So, Denki said goodnight to Mina and Sero, and turned around to head up to his room with the boy. Katsuki was no longer there, and the doors of the elevator were sliding closed.

Denki’s heart leapt into his chest. There was no way Katsuki ran out of patience that quickly, was there? He sped toward the elevators in a rush that might even seem a little conspicuous, but he was panicking, just a little. He’d really been hoping to play some games with his favorite hothead to bring the night to a perfect end. 

In his rush, he almost trampled over the smallest of his classmates. Mineta stood sheepishly in front of him, clearly guilty of not announcing his presence in time for Denki to stop without stumbling like an idiot. “Hey, Kaminari,” he said quietly, if not a little suggestively. “Y’know, it’s been a while since we’ve hung out, or talked, or anything—”

“Uh-huh,” Denki replied distractedly. The elevator doors were sliding open again. Midoriya and Todoroki were about to step inside, and as soon as the doors closed Denki would have to sit there and wait for the elevator to come all the way back from the top floor. 

“I have this new—ehem—movie that I thought you might enjoy—”

“Yeah, maybe another time,” Denki said quickly, moving around him and giving him a quick pat on the back. Mineta gaped at him incredulously. “I’ve got—uh—studying, or something.”

Admittedly, he could have come up with a better excuse. He could have even just said a half-truth, that he was going up to play some games before bed, but he’d been thinking about Katsuki, so of course that was the first place his mind went. It was a little silly, but it didn’t matter all too much. 

Denki barely managed to slide through the closing elevator doors. 

Now that he thought about it, it really had been a while since he spent time with Mineta. It wasn’t even on purpose, really. It was just that, well, all the guy ever wanted to do was talk about, read, or watch explicit content. It got boring after a while. Especially because he’d really rather spend that time with Katsuki. It was much nicer to be with a person who he cared for rather than watching Mineta’s movies and fantasizing about things that he would never have.

It wasn’t on purpose. They were just... growing apart. That happened to people, sometimes. Their interests would change, and they grow apart. It was only natural. 

When Denki finally reached his room, he swung the door open. His breath left him in a sigh of relief. He closed the door swiftly behind him, then padded across the room to faceplant onto Katsuki’s lap. “Kacchan,” he whined. “I thought you left me!”

A finger flicked his ear, and then, “You’re so fucking dramatic, Denki,” Katsuki sneered with distaste, just as casually as he might say dunce-face, or Pikachu, or drooly. Even though Denki had given him permission to use his name, he’d never expected him to actually do it. Something unbelievably warm fluttered in his chest. “We can’t always go into the elevator at the same time,” he continued, unknowing of Denki’s overflow of emotions. “It’s suspicious as fuck.” 

“Mmhmm,” Denki hummed happily into Katsuki’s thigh. A hand landed on the back of his head and ruffled his hair. “Whaddaya wanna play?” he mumbled, voice muffled to the point that it was barely audible. 

Katsuki hummed in thought and squeezed his head like a stress ball. “Until Dawn?” he said after a moment. As if he hadn’t done extensive research just before coming upstairs to pick a game that he knew Denki would suffer playing. As if he didn’t do the same thing every night. As if Denki hadn’t caught him on his phone with a search bar that read ‘best horror games’ on more than one occasion.

“Ah,” Denki said. “Do you hate me, Kacchan?” he sighed pitifully, hoping that Katsuki could hear through his tone that he was messing with him.

The hand on his head paused. There was a long moment of silence, long enough that Denki thought he might need to clarify that it was a joke, and then, “Of course I don’t,” Katsuki said quietly, almost regretfully, as if he was suddenly realizing the situation he was in. Like he was caught in Denki’s trap, and he never even realized there was no escaping it until that moment. That probably wasn’t what was going through his head at all, but it was funny to imagine, and Denki couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he rolled off of Katsuki’s lap to set up the game. 

They got settled in, leaned against the wall, and Katsuki carefully set up a nest of pillows around them. He was getting cozy, which meant he didn’t plan to leave anytime soon. With a quick glance at the clock, Denki confirmed it was already inching close to his bedtime. Maybe he was planning on another sleepover. The idea left Denki giddy with excitement.

It didn’t take long before Katsuki was moving again. They’d barely gotten through the first part of the introduction when suddenly he was climbing into Denki’s lap. He wrapped himself around him comfortably, with his knees on either side of Denki’s hips, arms tucked loosely around his waist, and face buried in his shoulder.

Denki cherished the moments when Katsuki got affectionate like this. He’d never been quite this bold about it before, though. In the past, it showed through when he laid a head on his shoulder, or curled up in his lap, or the one occasion that he’d loosely held Denki’s wrist while the controller occupied his hands. 

Now, though, he was like an oversized koala, or maybe a sloth. Katsuki sighed contentedly, and nuzzled at his neck with his nose. His hands slipped up the back of Denki’s shirt to hold him closer, and they were warm. Denki mirrored his sigh and tipped his head a little more to give him more access to snuggle, and, well… anything else he might have been thinking about doing. 

In this moment, after such a nice day, with Katsuki relaxed and cuddling him so confidently… Denki could only think of one word to describe what he was feeling. It was a little confusing, because when he thought of that word, he thought about soft music drifting from headphones, private guitar lessons that came with private soft smiles, and collaborative playlists. He thought of guarded purple eyes, that one long walk around campus he’d somehow invited himself to, stray cats that were way too friendly with his companion and so, so skittish towards him. The feeling in his chest when he realized it must mean he’d taken care of the helpless creatures. 

It wasn’t the same. No, it wasn’t anywhere near the same, but Denki loved this. He loved Katsuki. 

And only a second after he came to that conclusion, Katsuki proceeded to open his mouth and bite the shit out of Denki’s neck.

“Ah—Kacch—Why?” Denki screamed, dropping his remote on the bed beside him and pulling away. Katsuki wouldn’t let him go. His teeth were no longer embedded in Denki’s jugular, but his arms were wrapped around him tight. He was right back to nuzzling him as if nothing happened at all. 

Katsuki brushed his lips softly over the bite mark that he’d surely left. “That’s for flirting with me in front of fucking Deku,” he mumbled childishly.

Denki’s brain short-circuited. It took him a moment to figure out what exactly he was referring to, and when he did, he scoffed and pushed at Katsuki again. He didn’t budge. “I was—I was teasing you just like you do to me all the time,” he complained, whining equally as childishly. “You can’t be mad at me!”

“Can and fucking will,” Katsuki muttered. He nibbled lightly on a new spot in threat, and the feeling sent shivers up Denki’s spine.

“No!” he insisted. “You can’t! You do this to me all the time, and the one time I do it, it’s suddenly a problem?” Katsuki nodded into his shoulder and cuddled closer. The audacity. “You basically told Mina and Jirou that we’ve kissed! What I did was so—I’ve done that to Sero before! And Kirishima! It’s just a bit, it doesn’t even mean—”

“It’s different,” Katsuki raised his voice a little, but carefully kept it low enough to avoid hurting Denki’s ear that was just centimeters away. “It’s—they’re all stupid,” he explained petulantly. “Of course they won’t think anything, but Deku—” he choked a little, and Denki’s anger faded when he realized which emotion he was hearing in his voice. He was afraid. “Deku knows me. He’s always known me. The fucking instant you did that… It’s over. He’ll figure it out, if he hasn’t already.” 

Denki didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even thought about it like that. It made sense, though, considering what he knew about Midoriya. When he became close with someone, he learned everything about them. It was just in his nature. So, Katsuki had been working hard for his entire life to keep this secret from the most observant little nerd on the planet, and Denki threw all of that in the trash without even realizing it. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” Katsuki muttered, then he sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda sounds like it does,” Denki mumbled, lifting his arms to wrap around his shoulders. 

Katsuki shifted to make the position more comfortable for both of them. “No,” he sighed again. “You couldn’t have known,” he said decisively, as if he’d only just come to that conclusion. “And,” he paused. “I wasn’t fucking ready, but it doesn’t matter, because—” he cut himself off with an incomprehensible mumble, then wiggled his arms a little, almost shrugged his shoulders, and buried his forehead further into the juncture between Denki’s neck and shoulder. 

He was too afraid to give words to his thoughts, but he didn’t need to. Denki understood exactly what he meant. He wasn’t ready to come out to Midoriya, or anyone, but it didn’t matter, because at least he had this. It didn’t matter because whatever happens, he would always be safe here.

Denki smiled softly and nuzzled his face into the blond spikes that were tickling his nose. That comfortable, calm feeling was back. He picked up the remote again and relaxed into the embrace. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, almost whispering. “We have this.”

Katsuki didn’t spend the night that night, but he did come back in the morning, and the two of them got ready for the day together. It was nice and relaxing, even when Katsuki scrutinized every step of Denki’s morning routine. Even when he quite literally forced Denki to brush his teeth for the proper amount of time by grabbing his hand and shoving the toothbrush back in his mouth. Or when he shuffled through Denki’s sock drawer in search of ‘one god damn pair of matching socks. You have to have one pair.’

So, maybe Denki was groggy, and distractible, and inefficient in the mornings, but that was what worked for him, and it was amusing to watch how much that infuriated Katsuki. 

Somehow, Katsuki’s nagging was enough that he managed to be ready in time to have a real breakfast. Katsuki was cooking of course, and Denki didn’t even question the fact that he was making enough for three portions, because obviously he would be making some for Kirishima too. Then, to his surprise, a groggy Kirishima actually walked into the kitchen, hair still down and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and it hit him. 

It was Friday. Kirishima’s work-study was officially over.

Denki’s excitement at the revelation was contagious, it seemed, because it quickly spread to Kirishima too, and they were buzzing around the kitchen like a pair of toddlers while Katsuki looked on and tried to pretend that he was annoyed. Both Denki and Kirishima knew his face well enough that they could see the smile he was trying so hard to hide, and man, he didn’t even realize how badly he wanted to share this new dynamic with his best friend.

They ganged up on Katsuki together, both of them teasing him for his hidden smiles, pointing out how much he clearly loved their antics, all while Katsuki adamantly denied it. This was a losing game for him, though. Kirishima was far more powerful than Denki could have imagined, because all it took was one tiny little smile and a childish, “You love me,” and suddenly Katsuki didn’t have a single thing to say. 

Instead, he’d just served their breakfast with a flushed face and one last stubborn mutter of, “Shut the fuck up,” under his breath.

Denki had to pick his jaw up off the floor. Yeah, that boy was whipped. 

It wasn’t long at all before they were joined by the whirlwind that was the rest of their class getting ready for the day. Uraraka was first, freshly showered after her workout and mumbling something about protein. Kirishima cheerfully offered some of his mocha flavored protein powder, and the grogginess had faded from her instantly as the good mood spread to her too, as well as every other person he greeted at the door.

Kirishima was back. 

It wasn’t as if he’d actually left. Although he had no extra time to spend with them, he was still in class, and they all occasionally saw him around the dorms. It was his fire that was truly gone. His energy. That confident, masculine, cheerful energy that everyone loved so much. He had been an empty shell of a person, running on nothing but Katsuki’s leftovers and a few hours of sleep at a time. 

Denki knew that Kirishima’s shift was supposed to end early the day before, but he hadn’t seen him at all since their morning classes. So, he must have slept from the moment he got home until just before he arrived for breakfast. He’d definitely needed the rest. It was clear to see the relief that the whole class felt upon seeing him go right back to his usual self so quickly.

Sero and Mina arrived on time to join them briefly for the last half of breakfast, although they’d had to bring their own meals to the table. 

“Come on, none for me?”

“Fuck off, elbows.” 

“But we’re your friends too!”

“You too, pinky.”

Everyone was in a pretty celebratory mood throughout their classes. Aizawa was back too, and he seemed a little confused at the energy that his students were creating, but he didn’t seem to mind, either, which was enough cause for celebration on its own. By the end of the day, the rowdy group of teenagers had only grown rowdier, and they were more than prepared for the festivities to come. 

Movie nights were, of course, quite a common occurrence in the 1a dorms. Normally on a day such as this, the class would go about their day as normal until the scheduled time, and then whoever wanted to join would show up in the common room, where Iida and Momo had snacks and a movie set up waiting for them. Although Denki had been to every one they'd held, he hadn’t seen a single movie night where everyone showed up other than their very first one. 

This night was looking like the exception. 

The common room was crowded from the moment they were released from class, and it didn’t seem like anyone was planning to leave. They weren’t expected to gather for another six hours, but here they all were, as early to the party as they could possibly be. Over time, they all left and came back in more comfortable clothes, and some went to gather their notes so that they could attempt to study despite the distractions spread throughout the common floor. 

Katsuki was nowhere to be seen, though. It made sense. He was probably going over his own notes, or maybe training, or something else responsible. Denki wasn’t too worried about it, because he knew Katsuki would show up at some point during the night. There was no way he would miss this when Kirishima was there.

Since everyone was early anyways, they decided to pregame movie night with a little bit of a gaming afternoon. Or was it a gaming evening? Denki had no clue, but he was getting a kick out of being the one watching other people play games for once. He would have to force Katsuki to take the controller at some point soon. He never really understood what the appeal was for him until this, and now, he was dying to see Katsuki try his hand at any number of the games that he’d forced Denki to suffer through. 

While they were all taking turns on Mario cart, Sato was baking sweets for them to share. He made several batches of cookies, macaroons, mini muffins, and last but not least, he made a whole cake for Kirishima. He presented it to him with a bow, and Kirishima cried manly, manly tears. 

The writing on top of the cake read, “Congratulations on getting some sleep!”

Sato thought he was so funny. He was right.

Katsuki appeared right at the scheduled time, just as Denki expected. His mood was oddly calm, almost subdued, and he was wandering around following Kirishima like a lost puppy while he was helping Iida get everything set up for the movie. It was adorable, really. Denki felt a rush of affection as he watched his closest friends interact from afar. He could imagine that the only thing keeping Katsuki from grabbing Kirishima’s shirt and hanging on as he followed him were his inhibitions. The thought made him giggle to himself.

“Whatcha laughing about?” Midoriya popped up from out of nowhere and asked innocently. He was carrying a massive stack of blankets, and Shoji passed by right behind him with a stack of equal size. 

“Oh, nothing,” Denki assured him with a wave of his hand, just a little embarrassed to be caught admiring his friends. 

Midoriya nodded and pursed his lips, then smiled at him. “Need any blankets?”

Denki gladly took a few blankets from him and laid them over the back of the couch. He didn’t need them now, but he was sure he would want to get cozy eventually. 

Unsurprisingly, when it came time for everyone to get settled, Kirishima made a b-line directly for the empty spot beside Denki. Katsuki followed, of course, but Denki had stupidly chosen one of the smaller couches, so there wasn’t really any room, until—

Katsuki shrugged, then laid down across both of their laps. 

His feet were basically kicking Denki in the stomach, so he fiddled with his socks in an effort to get them to quit being so restless. At first, Denki thought it might actually be working, but he only had that misconception for a moment. His sock pulling had no effect on Katsuki at all. When he looked up, he saw Katsuki had his head pillowed on Kirishima’s thigh with his eyes closed and a soft, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. He was the picture of absolute comfort. 

And, of course, the final most important detail, was Kirishima’s hand running carefully through the spikes of his hair.

Katsuki was being pampered. Right in front of Denki’s eyes. He couldn’t believe it.

He would be demanding pets the next time they were alone together. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to get cozy. The lights were turned down low, pillow and blanket forts crafted to perfection, and couches covered in more of their snuggling classmates. The movie was about to start.

Denki felt eyes on him. 

He looked back briefly, then did a double-take. Kirishima was staring at him. Hard. His eyes were wide, and his face was carefully expressionless. It was the way he looked at people when they made him really mad, but he didn’t want to express that frustration inappropriately. And this time, he was looking right at Denki with that face, unwavering. 

Kirishima glanced at Denki’s hands still fiddling idly with Bakugou’s socks. Then, he glanced toward his neck. Their eyes met again.

It was too much to bear. Denki was the first to break eye contact. He couldn’t even fathom what he’d done wrong. They were enjoying themselves! It had been such a good day until then. What changed?

The tension between them was taught like a bowstring, but neither of them could do anything about it. Katsuki was like a cat. If either of them moved, they were dead. 

It was the longest movie night of Denki’s life.

Chapter Text

If anyone was asked to name one defining characteristic of Kirishima Eijirou, they would probably say clueless.

Or at least that’s what Eijirou thought they might say. He would hope they might say something about his manliness, or his strength, or even his smile when he felt especially emotionally vulnerable. Hope is one thing, though, and reality is another. Eijirou knew how he came across.

Clueless.

He could be, on occasion. He wasn’t quite the same level as Todoroki, but he could certainly relate to the way jokes flew over that guy’s head sometimes. It wasn’t right for him to make such a comparison, knowing that Todoroki’s cluelessness was something that he couldn’t help and that affected him deeply on a daily basis, all while Kirishima was, for the most part, very much not clueless.

In fact, he was in the midst of uncovering a conspiracy that was unfolding right in front of his eyes. One that all of his more intuitive classmates had yet to notice.

It was hard to miss, honestly. Even when he was far too busy to be paying attention, he’d been a little suspicious. Now that he had a little more time, though, it was obvious.

His best friend was fucking his crush.

Now, this might seem like a stretch. Eijirou did have a history of getting himself into trouble by letting his imagination run wild, but this time, he was sure. It didn’t matter that Eijirou thought his crush was straight before this. It didn’t matter that his friend was supposedly straight too, very straight in fact. The evidence was overwhelming. Somehow, both of them had changed their opinions on girls, and Eijirou wasn’t there to see it.

He couldn’t even blame them. I mean, where was he? He sure wasn’t there to help them through this confusing time. Or, who knew, maybe they’d known the whole time and just didn’t share it? He certainly never shared with them. The one thing he could be sure of now was that he’d lost his one chance with the love of his life, and it was all his own fault.

Eijirou was getting ahead of himself. He needed to focus on the facts.

Just a couple of months ago, Bakugou could hardly stand the sight of Kaminari. That fateful morning at breakfast when Bakugou asked to stay at his place, the others had been amused, but Eijirou knew that face. He was going into battle, but with what, and why he had chosen Kaminari of all people to stand at his side were the questions that really burned in Eijirou’s mind.

Discovering the truth of the situation was a whole other beast. At the time, Eijirou was just grateful that Bakugou had someone there for him. If it wasn’t for Kaminari’s tactless meddling, he was sure that Bakugou’s home life would have remained a secret, possibly for years to come. Now, though, he realized his mistake. In allowing Kaminari to support Bakugou through this alone, he’d become much closer to him than Eijirou had any hope of reaching. In hindsight, he should have found the time to step in and be supportive, too. Or, more supportive than he was, at least. They did have a few deep conversations about it, and set up a plan for how they can avoid situations like that time happening again.

Maybe there was nothing he could have done differently.

He was doing it again. Back to the facts.

After Eijirou had to increase his hours at his work-study, the two became even closer, right under Eijirou’s nose. There were some moments that stuck out. Like the time that Kaminari went up to the fourth floor to speak privately with Bakugou, when previously he would never go up there at all just to avoid making Bakugou feel that his privacy was being invaded. Or the time Bakugou left class early, and when Eijirou went to check on him he’d found his room empty. Then he didn’t see him again until the next morning when he was cooking with Kaminari.

There were so many little things, too. Just the way they acted around each other. How often they snuck away when they thought no one was watching.

The hickey on Kaminari’s neck.

The few matching ones he’d caught sight of on Bakugou after sparring just a couple weeks later.

Yeah. Eijirou had plenty of evidence.

The real issue was that he didn’t have anything truly concrete. Yes, he was almost certain. There weren’t very many ways he could explain away the things that he saw. But, technically speaking, he didn’t have nearly enough ammunition to bring to an interrogation. He’d seen plenty of those during his workstudy, which gave him exactly the word to describe the type of evidence he had.

Circumstantial.

He needed hard evidence. He needed to see one or both of them sneaking out of the others room. He needed a witness to tell him that they heard a conversation where they explicitly discussed their relationship status. He needed photographs, or DNA.

But this wasn’t an investigation, and that would be an invasion of privacy.

So, for now, Eijirou was stuck. He didn’t want to risk confronting either of them and looking like an idiot. He couldn’t risk losing Bakugou’s trust, either. He just needed to be patient, and one day, hopefully soon, something would happen that would finally confirm whether Eijirou was right about everything or delusional.

“Guys,” Mineta spoke suddenly, startling Eijirou out of his thoughts. “We need to talk.” He rounded the corner to stand in front of the tv, forcing Sero to pause the nature documentary that only he was paying attention to. Mina, Jirou, and Hagakure looked up from their phones with thinly veiled suspicion. Midoriya, Uraraka, and Todoroki paused whatever discussion they were having nearby to listen as well.

“What’s up, man?” Sero asked when no one else seemed inclined to respond.

The look on Mineta’s face was dead serious. “It’s about Kaminari. I think he has a girlfriend.”

Eijirou’s heart dropped to his stomach.

For the most part, everyone in the room seemed surprised at his sudden declaration. All but two of them. Mina and Sero made meaningful eye contact, and Sero set the remote down on the empty cushion beside him. He leaned back in his seat, settling in to engage with the madman.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, for one thing,” Mineta began to pace back and forth in front of the tv, tapping his chin in an almost-mockery of Midoriya’s thinking face. “He never wants to hang out anymore. Like, ever. And, I mean, I guess most of the time we would only talk about girls, so if he has a girl than there’s no need to fantasize, right?”

“Ew,” Jirou said bluntly.

Mineta continued undeterred. “We used to watch, you know, movies together sometimes, just to learn the ropes and stuff. Get pointers.”

“Sure,” Uraraka interjected dryly. “That’s why.”

“But, I stole his phone when he was distracted. His search history says he hasn’t looked at anything explicit in over two months. So, unless he started browsing in private windows for some reason…” Mineta paused his pacing to look around the room to gauge the reaction.

Todoroki and Uraraka seemed unimpressed. Mina and Jirou just looked disturbed, and Hagakure’s hand was over her heart. Sero took a deep, heavy breath.

Midoriya had his thinking face on.

“So, you think he has a girlfriend just because he got over his porn addiction and you didn’t?” Mina said, clearly disappointed. “Look, you’re going to have to give us more than that because right now it just sounds like he’s growing up.”

“Oh, I have more,” Mineta said with an evil grin. “You know that search history I was talking about?”

“This is such an invasion of privacy, dude,” Sero sighed.

“What?” Mineta had the gall to look offended. “I didn’t look through his texts or DMs! It was just search history.” Everyone stared. “Anyways, he had about half a dozen searches for date ideas that could be executed in a time crunch. Like, he doesn’t have a lot of time because she’s a secret and we might get suspicious. Don’t you think?”

Mina’s eyebrows shot up. She looked at Sero again. “Well, that’s something.”

“He could be trying out online dating,” Sero suggested. “It doesn’t exactly scream secret girlfriend to me.”

“He lost all of his favorite jackets,” Mineta continued. “What do girlfriends love to steal?”

“That’s a cliché!” Hagakure complained.

“Isn’t he just a little absent-minded?” Eijirou finally spoke. He needed this conversation to be over. The longer it went on, the closer they came to the truth. The dread pooling in Eijirou’s stomach was threatening to bubble over. “He loses stuff all the time.”

“Not his jackets,” Mineta countered. “Where could he even lose them? They’re not sitting around down here, so they could only be in his room or with his secret girlfriend.” The little prune looked triumphant, as if he’d given irrefutable evidence. “That’s not even the smoking gun, my friends.”

“Ugh, why do I feel like I was just insulted,” Jirou muttered under her breath.

“The hickeys. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them.”

Midoriya’s eyebrows flew up impossibly far, and his face became a deep shade of red. Slowly, he turned his head and caught Eijirou’s eye, and they both glanced away quickly.

Sero and Mina looked at each other again. “Yeah, we’ve seen them,” Sero said gravely. “He won’t talk to us about it. He tells us everything.”

Mineta didn’t share their concern for their friend. He just grinned triumphantly. “Bam. Secret girlfriend.”

It was right as he said those words that Bakugou exited the elevator. He looked uncharacteristically calm and at ease, scrolling through something on his phone as he walked toward the kitchen. His soft features made something painful clench in Eijirou’s chest.

“Hey, Bakugou,” Sero called out to him, causing him to stop in his tracks. He didn’t look up yet, rudely continuing to read whatever was on his screen. “Does Kaminari have a girlfriend?”

The serene look on his face instantly hardened. “What,” he said through clenched teeth.

His face was beat red. To the untrained eye, he would appear rageful. Eijirou, however, was not untrained. Bakugou was embarrassed.

“Hey, no need to get snappy,” Sero held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just asking because you guys have been spending more time together lately, is all.”

“Why the fuck would he tell me about that?” Bakugou finally looked up to glare at Sero harshly. “And we don’t spend time together. We study.”

A look of sudden understanding passed over Midoriya’s face. He slapped a hand over his mouth rather conspicuously, and Bakugou instantly turned to glare at him too.

“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted, his face turning three shades more red.

“He didn’t say anything…” Todoroki mumbled.

Bakugou turned around and stomped away.

“Jeez,” Sero muttered. “He seemed like he was in a good mood. I thought asking wouldn’t hurt.”

“He doesn’t like talking about girls,” Mineta explained, as if he was the one who knew Bakugou the best. “He always reacts like that.”

Sero and Mina jumped to Bakugou’s defense while Eijirou sat there, staring dumbly at the kitchen doorway. That could very well be the evidence he was looking for. He’d thought that learning the truth would kill him inside, leaving him a depressed shell of a person. Instead, he found that something else was happening.

That last piece of the puzzle was like a spark that lit a fire in him. Eijirou wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t lose. Sure, they were just high-schoolers, but somewhere deep in his aching chest he knew. The bond he had with Bakugou was unshakeable. Unbreakable. It was the kind of thing built to last. If they were to get together, he could be certain that they would never split. Not until one or both of them was dead.

Eijirou just needed to get Bakugou to see that, too.

First things first, though. He needed to reestablish the routine that they’d created before Eijirou so rudely destroyed it with his work-study. It wasn’t entirely selfish. He could tell that Bakugou missed their mornings together, and the guy was still making him dinner every night even though he had plenty of time to do it himself. The selfish part was because he missed his friend.

The even more selfish part was that it would take more time away from Kaminari.

The next day in class, Eijirou wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy worrying about how to bring up the subject to Bakugou. Eijirou stared at the back of his head as he considered it. Maybe a conversation wasn’t necessary. Maybe he would just invite himself to have dinner with the guy, and ask if he was free to train in the morning.

“Let’s review,” Aizawa droned on as Eijirou was lost in thought. “What is this assembly going to be about? You all should know this.”

“Uh, asking the right questions?” Uraraka guessed.

“Being aware of your surroundings,” Jirou added.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Technically yes. It’s about job safety. I have already gone over these things with you—”

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

“… so you should have a good understanding for the content of the lecture before you go in. Unfortunately, they wont let me keep you in class to learn something new instead,” Aizawa sighed heavily.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Aizawa looked around the room, deadpan. “I have a quiz for you all to take before the assembly to test your knowledge.”

“Before the assembly?” Mina complained loudly.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

“Do you need to get that, Bakugou?” Aizawa asked coldly, glaring at him with red eyes.

“I’d rather not,” Bakugou muttered, slouching into his seat.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

“Go,” Aizawa insisted.

Bakugou stood up and stomped out of the classroom.

“As I was saying. The quiz…” Aizawa continued tiredly.

Eijirou failed the quiz. It was his own fault. Aizawa wasn’t that cruel. He’d probably subtly given away all of the answers during his lecture. The one that Eijirou had been too distracted to pay attention to. Once the class was given the okay to head to the auditorium for the assembly, Eijirou stood forlornly to walk there side by side with Bakugou, as they would usually do.

The guy was nowhere in sight.

Instantly, Eijirou was on edge. That was a bad sign. His mind wandered to the mysterious phone call, or calls, that Bakugou had received. There were only two people who could put Bakugou in a real bad mood. One had been sitting silently behind him, and the other was his mom.

Eijirou walked to the auditorium as quickly as possible. Thankfully, Bakugou was sitting in their section. He’d chosen a seat by the aisle, and he was slouched there with his arms crossed. Eijirou had expected to round the corner to find a harsh glare, but instead he saw hazy, far away eyes staring blankly at the back of the chair in front of him.

That was a look that he’d never actually seen on Bakugou’s face before.

As soon as he noticed Eijirou standing there, his eyebrows furrowed into a much more natural frown, and he sat up a little so that he could squeeze past his knees and sit beside him. Unsure of how to approach this, Eijirou opted for the option that usually never fails. Act casual.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

Bakugou grunted vaguely.

“Did you find out what that call was about?” Eijirou tried carefully.

“It was nothing,” he snapped. “Nobody.”

Eijirou paused for a moment. Bakugou typically appreciated it when he was real with him, but he didn’t want to sound jealous. Still, he couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t actually witnessed it, but somehow, he knew. “Kaminari already asked you, didn’t he?” he said with an almost guilty tone.

“And I told him what I told you,” Bakugou grumbled, which was much less aggressive than his first reply. That was a win. “Nobody important. Leave it alone.”

“Fine,” Eijirou agreed. He wasn’t about to let it go, though. “Do you want to hang out after class, bro? We could spar, or something.”

Bakugou paused, considering it. Usually, he would say yes right away, but something was holding him back.

“Sure,” he finally agreed. “I need to punch something.”

The crowd quieted down around them as a stranger with one missing arm got on stage. “So,” he started once everyone was silent. “You get to the battlefield, and you realize you don’t have the equipment for the job. What do you do?” He paused. “Well, I can tell you what not to do…”

Bakugou slouched down again and glared at the floor. He didn’t seem to be listening at all.

That’s how he was for the rest of the day. All day long, Eijirou waited for the right moment to ask about having dinner together, but it never came. During lunch, Bakugou was silent and distracted, and he didn’t even seem bothered by Sero and Kaminari play-fighting by flinging rice at each other. Nor was he bothered by Mina and Hagakure shrieking with laughter over something Eijirou didn’t catch. It was almost like he wasn’t even hearing them.

Heroics was more of the same. They were doing group exercises, and Bakugou’s team failed. Even this didn’t seem to get through to him.

By the time they were walking side by side to the gym, Eijirou was actually getting pretty concerned. The phone call was obviously a bigger deal than Bakugou had made it out to be. Something was eating him, and Eijirou needed to get it out of him before he let himself explode.

Despite knowing this, and despite all of Bakugou’s behavior throughout the day, Eijirou really didn’t expect their spar to go the way it did.

It could hardly be called sparring. Eijirou was unbreakable, but it was only because he was forced to focus entirely on defense. Bakugou didn’t even complain about him using his quirk for a non-quirk spar. Instead, he punched Eijirou over and over with absolutely no expression on his face. Eijirou wasn’t a sparring partner, he was a punching bag.

Eijirou was completely overwhelmed. He didn’t know what to do, or what to say. It wasn’t until he saw red that he gasped and snatched Bakugou’s wrists out of the air. For a moment, Bakugou struggled, until Eijirou spoke. “Bro, you’re bleeding,” he said desperately, unhardening himself. He held Bakugou’s wrists gently and stared at his bloodied knuckles. “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Bakugou just stood there, staring at him. Then, he snatched his hands away and stomped across the gym. He punched the wall on his way out the door, leaving a bloody smear beside the light switch.

The door swung closed behind him with a slam. Eijirou stared at it, mouth hanging open. He’d seen Bakugou fly off the handle plenty of times, but never like that, and certainly never so silently.

So, this clearly wasn’t the right time for Eijirou to be working on his relationship with Bakugou. What Bakugou needed wasn’t a jealous, pining love interest. He needed a friend. He needed support to get him through whatever it was that was going through his head. Eijirou would do his best to be that friend, and his plan could wait until later.

The common room was tense and silent. When Bakugou was in a really bad mood, it would sometimes get like this. Although Bakugou hadn’t lashed out at anyone in a really long time, he had in the past, so the reaction was understandable. Especially considering that this mood was kind of new and unpredictable.

Eijirou’s search for him didn’t last long. He was in the kitchen, but Eijirou didn’t enter right away. Instead, he paused and watched. Because Kaminari was also there, standing with Bakugou. He was behind Bakugou, speaking in a hushed tone, quiet enough that Eijirou couldn’t hear what he was saying. Meanwhile, Bakugou was standing with his hands on the counter and head bowed in front of an open cupboard.

Whatever Kaminari was saying, he didn’t get to finish. Bakugou slammed the cupboard closed, and Eijirou ducked around the corner as he turned to storm off, right past him towards the elevator. Kaminari followed close behind. Neither of them had noticed him.

A dark pit formed in Eijirou’s stomach. Something was seriously wrong with his friend, and he’d just come to realize that he was no longer the one who could help him.