My fic for @rriotzine is now on Ao3! Hope you enjoy!
Summary:
Eijirou was alone.
He had been for some time now, though it couldn't have been too long as his scales were still the flat black of a hatchling. He could barely remember his brood's nest. The days were growing colder, so the best he could tell a season or two had passed since he'd ventured off on his own. His limbs were still too short, arms unable to reach the lowest limbs of the trees around him and legs unable to step over the brush and bramble along the forest floor.
Sometimes, he sat alone in the big, wide forest, warming his tiny hands with the fire he'd made from his own breath, and he couldn't help letting out a few tiny chirps into the silence.
No one ever answered.
I'm here! Hello? Friend?
Inside him, he could feel the desires of every dragon: for hoard, for territory, for meaning. But every rock he upturned wasn't special enough, every feather wasn't soft enough, every leaf wasn't strong enough. These weren't things to hoard! He had to find his hoard, the things that were meant to be under his care.
Eijirou took another step, and another day passed alone.
Bakugou and Kirishima are rough-housing, as they sometimes do, and Bakugou laughs as he shoves his palm into Kirishima's face. The tiny sparks popping off of his hand are nothing worrisome, he's not trying to actually hurt Kirishima, and the other would harden himself anyways. Instead, instinct leads Kirishima to lean up to kiss Bakugou's hand, right over his sparking palm, face half-hardened and smile wide.
Bakugou is stunned in the moment, and Kirishima uses his distraction to get out of the other's hold and to pin him with his own arms. Bakugou doesn't even begrudge him the win, seemingly distracted, and Kirishima doesn't think anything more of it.
The second time it happens, it's a strategic move.
Bakugou is all anger, palms exploding, eyes focused on the target. It's been a bad day, between his internship and a test from Aizawa, and he's been practicing this one move for hours now. Kirishima has sat quietly and watched, unable to really help, but he wants to be there.
It's nearing the three hour mark--the sun has long since set--when Kirishima decides enough is enough. Bakugou is frustrated, yes, but he's also trembling under the power of his own explosions, sweaty and exhausted from a long workout.
Kirishima stands and steps forward in Bakugou's next lull period, grabbing Bakugou's wrist.
“Oi–”
Kirishima leans down to kiss his knuckles briefly, eyes locked on Bakugou's. He squeezes Bakugou's hand in his own.
“Let's go, Katsuki,” he says quietly.
Bakugou deflates, relenting. He follows Kirishima out of the gym without argument.
The third time, it's a gesture of intent.
Kirishima didn't think he'd been subtle. All this time, he felt confident that he'd made his desires known, simply letting Bakugou lead them on the path they were headed down. It was, of course, inevitable that they'd end up together.
It's late when things finally change. A late night on patrol meant Bakugou got back to the dorm after most people had gone to bed. Not Kirishima though, the redhead dozing on the couch as he waits. The door opening startles him awake, and he smiles when he sees Bakugou home.
“Welcome back,” Kirishima murmurs, standing and reaching out a hand. Bakugou accepts it, reaching back, and Kirishima lifts his hand to his face so he can kiss the warm palm, pressing his cheek into it afterwards.
Bakugou watches him with dark eyes, only the dim nightlight in the kitchen giving them anything to see by. He steps closer, and Kirishima echoes him.
“Thanks,” Bakugou whispers, and his breath wafts over Kirishima's lips.
They're so close. This is how they've always been, orbiting closer and closer, never quite going over that edge. But Kirishima is tired of them avoiding the elephant in the room. He steps even closer, nose brushing Bakugou's.
“Welcome back,” he repeats, dipping his head to press a soft kiss against Bakugou's lips. The blond returns the pressure, leaning just a bit more into the touch as Kirishima pulls back, keeping them together for just a moment longer.
“About time,” Bakugou says, and he grins.
Kirishima smiles back, and they hold hands as they head upstairs to bed.
The fourth time, Kirishima is trying to be romantic.
They've been together officially for nearly six months, and Kirishima is stressing about it. He's never experienced this, this overwhelming feeling of love for another. He wants to shout it from the rooftops, but he can't even get the words out in front of Bakugou. As soon as the blond looks at him, with that soft look saved just between the two of them, Kirishima loses track of every word he knows.
They have a quiet night in, as usual, and it makes something in Kirishima so warm, for Bakugou to be so comfortable with him. He feels so full, so happy, and he reaches over to interrupt Bakugou's writing to take his hand and bring it to his face for a brief kiss.
“What are you doing?” Bakugou asks, but he doesn't pull away, face flushing a little pink.
“I really like you, bro,” Kirishima murmurs, smiling at him. “Like, so much.”
Bakugou's face is fully red now, and the other bites his lip. “I…do too. I mean, you too. I…like you too.”
Kirishima grins, kissing the other's hand again because it's there and he can, before leaning over to kiss Bakugou's lips too.
The fifth time, Kirishima is fully in love and ready to admit it.
They've had ups and downs, but never once has Kirishima felt like they weren't on the right path. Bakugou and him were partners, teammates for life, and he couldn't imagine not having the other by his side.
They're just walking, meandering over a bridge really, when Kirishima gently tugs Bakugou to a stop. The other looks back at him, and Kirishima smiles, lifting their joined hands so that he can kiss the back of Bakugou's.
“I love you,” he says, and it's the first time of many. He knows it.
Bakugou's eyes widen a moment at the declaration before he seems to melt a bit, softening his edges in a way he only does for Kirishima.
“Love you too, Ei,” he returns.
Kirishima can't help but lean forward, free hand cupping Bakugou's face to kiss him soundly. He feels lighter than air, feels unbeatable, stronger than unbreakable. He hugs Bakugou tightly, lifting him and spinning them around as they both laugh.
After that, Bakugou stops counting the number of times that Kirishima kisses his hands. His hands are weapons, bombs, but Bakugou feels Kirishima's precious trust every time the other brushes his lips against his hands, and even if he loses count of the times, it never stops causing a tiny spark of love to zip down his spine.
There was a certain peace to this that Kirishima lived for.
Contrary to what everyone believed, Bakugou could be quiet. He'd seen it, experienced it. Tucked it away in a secret place like the treasure it was. It was when Kirishima finally knew that the blond trusted him without any reservation.
After Kamino, after moving into the dorms, Kirishima was thrilled that their rooms were next to each other. He was pretty sure that wasn't a coincidence, no doubt the teachers expected him to help keep Bakugou's explosions to a minimum, but the truth was Bakugou didn't explode much unless he was around the others.
Studying was a lot better now. They didn't have to meet up at a cafe or library where either one of them could be chastised for being too loud and disruptive. Instead, Bakugou just came over to his room almost every night, helping him with homework until he started yawning, which was when he left to go to sleep. Kirishima thought it was kind of cute that this usually happened before nine.
When they didn't have homework, Kirishima still tried to coax him over. He had a fifty-fifty shot. But when Bakugou did come over, he was usually subdued, quiet. He was quick to get going if Kirishima teased him too much, but otherwise the blond seemed comfortable lazing around in Kirishima's space, watching movies or playing games or just existing together, each of them doing their own thing. It made Kirishima's heart squeeze to know that Bakugou felt safe with him, felt like he could relax. The blond eventually started coming over without Kirishima needing to ask and it never failed to melt Kirishima.
It was a cold winter day when Bakugou came over and they decided to watch a movie. Kirishima set it up for them to sit on his bed, offering Bakugou a blanket. It wasn't too long into the movie that Kirishima felt the other against his side. When he looked down, Kirishima was surprised to see Bakugou shivering. It was instinct for him to wrap his arm around him, rubbing at his opposite arm and pulling him closer. Kirishima had always run hot, it was why he didn't need to change his costume for winter, unlike Bakugou who clearly was sensitive to the cold. The blond didn't even argue, cuddling closer and curling his legs over one of Kirishima's. The redhead couldn't believe it; they were cuddling! He was cuddling with Bakugou Katsuki! His best friend!
Kirishima quickly hid his smile against the top of Bakugou's head, pleased to have the blond's trust. He rubbed at his arm with his other hand to try and warm him up, and Bakugou hummed sleepily, leaning closer.
Kirishima couldn't say for sure how the movie ended, but with Bakugou asleep in his arms, he didn't really care.
When Bakugou opened the door, the lights were out. The lump on the bed flinched in anticipation, but Bakugou didn't turn on the overhead lights, instead walking into the dark room and closing the door softly behind him.
The blankets on the bed shivered. Bakugou didn't speak a word, making his way across the room without much difficulty (only a single misplaced dumbbell giving him issue, a cut off curse breaking the silence before Bakugou reined himself in).
Bakugou made it to the desk, flipping on the small light on the desk that also functioned as a wax warmer. Bakugou stood there for a moment, watching the wax heat up, and the lump on the bed slowly relaxed when it became apparent nothing would be asked of it.
Once the wax was melted enough, the soft scent of lavender wafted through the room. An attempt to help with sleeping, not that Bakugou was sure if the scent had been picked out of consideration for himself or for the room's other occupant.
Bakugou finally turned to the bed, hands on his hips in contemplation for a moment. He leaned over and pressed a hand to the mattress, pushing down to silently warn its current inhabitant that he was climbing on, before he did just that, sitting beside the lump of blankets and leaning back against the headboard.
He waited.
It was slow going, but he felt the other inching closer to him, a tentative hand bravely leaving the safety of the blankets to curl around Bakugou's calf. Bakugou just kept his breathing even, not reacting, and the blankets inches even closer, now a bloodshot eye peeking out at his face with unsurity.
Bakugou hummed, quiet and even, and the face ducked to hide once more. The blankets neared him even more though, the form underneath curling close enough to press against Bakugou's side. Moments later, a head--still covered by the duvet--rested tentatively on the blond's lap. Bakugou hummed again, lifting one hand to rest it over the blanket-covered head. He heard a sniffle. He squeezed the shoulder just underneath the blanket, and then the cries grew less muffled as he felt tears dampening his thigh.
He could say it'll be alright, but it probably wouldn't be for the family of the man who'd lost his life today. He could say you did all you could, but that would just make the other feel inadequate. He could say it's not your fault, but coming right off a failed rescue, those words always felt like a lie. Ultimately, Bakugou wasn't a therapist, he didn't know what to say, if anything could be said.
But he was here. And he could be here, could stay, until Kirishima was ready to try again.
hey, please don’t take this personally, you probably grew up with this kind of nonchalant self-centeredness (it’s not you, it‘s your country) so it makes sense that you would carry it with you on some level! i just wanted to inform you that the latin alphabet (which is used for a lot of languages, english included, and among all the standard english varieties also american english) has absolutely nothing to do with america. it has no origin in america or with the american people, nor did they modify it in any way. you just use it, like countless other countries do. reading your (otherwise very fun) fic, the line "do you really think the americans would let you?" really made me stumble, since it implies some sort of ownership or power over this worldwide cultural item, which, again, americans simply do not have. the latin alphabet goes way beyond america.
i don‘t actually know if you are american, but i can‘t imagine why anyone would write that line if they weren‘t. 😅
either way, the latin alphabet apparently originates from italian/greek culture.
i wish you no harm, actually i wish you all the best, and i hope you don‘t feel discouraged to write in any way. just hope you can see how this habit to assume most things great originate with your country is actually quite offensive to everybody else, since it is oftentimes incorrect. please do not take it personally though, i would likely have suffered the same fate (/hj /lh <3) had i grown up where i presume you have. even though i do believe it to have been less extreme, growing up somewhere entirely different, i still had to intentionally rid myself of a subconscious sense of superiority over, just, randomly decided ‘everything else’. i think to a degree it is universal, sort of like a "back in my day everything was better (it was not)". it’s normal to trust most in simply what you grew up with. that doesn’t actually make it true though. lol
would be funny if you were actually from somewhere else.
Appreciate the insight! Honestly, that was a line I probably would've caught and edited out if I'd given this one more than a glance before posting, wasn't really thinking when I was writing it down. Sorry about that! I've removed it.
Have a really stupid, really silly, not thoroughly edited one-shot of everyone flirting with an oblivious Bakugou (endgame KiriBaku, of course)
“Do you have an extra heart? Mine seems to have been stolen.”
Bakugou cut his eyes to the side, seeing Sero offer him a cheeky grin and a wink. Bakugou's brow furrowed.
“The fuck you talking about? Just because I had to have heart surgery doesn't mean I have two now, dumbass.”
Sero blanched, nearly falling out of his chair. “Wait, I wasn't–I didn't mean your heart surgery.”
“Whatever,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, looking back to his textbook and trying not to pout. Who brings up shit like that? Even he wasn't that fucking rude.
“Bakugou, seriously, I didn't mean–”
“S'fine,” Bakugou cut him off gruffly, fighting the urge to rub at the scar across his chest from the surgery.
Sero eventually slunk away, head low, and Bakugou didn't think about it again.
…..
“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.”
Bakugou paused writing his essay, looking up to see Kaminari smirking down at him. “What bullshit are you spouting?”
“I said, if I could rearrange the alphabet–”
“Why would you do that?” Bakugou interrupted him. “Learn English the way it is first, Sparky.”
Kaminari floundered. “Uh. I mean, why? To put U and I together. I want–”
“Y, U, I?” Bakugou repeated, nose curling with distaste at the idea. “It's stupid enough without you switching it around. Don't make yourself confused, we've got a test tomorrow.”
“Right,” Kaminari said, slumping. “I don't suppose you'll let me study with you?”
Bakugou eyed him with a narrowed look. “If you'll really study, then fine. But don't try any shit. I need to beat Yaomomo tomorrow; loser is buying the class dinner.”
“You're going to grace us with your chef skills? I could eat only your food for the rest of my life,” Kaminari said, grinning.
“Don't try your luck. Now, open you're damn textbook.”
“Okay,” Kaminari agreed, smiling at the other hopelessly.
…..
“Want a raisin?”
Bakugou looked at Jirou, who was snacking on dried fruit.
“No?” She continued. “How about a date?”
Bakugou sighed. “Sure, why not?” He held out his hand.
She paused, looking at his hand to his face. “You actually…want a date?”
Bakugou grumbled something under the breath about stupid idiots. “Yes, you offered one, so sure. Give me one.”
“Uh.” She looked at her bag of dried fruits. “I only have mangos, apricots, and raisins.”
Bakugou shook his head, incredulously. “Give me some fucking raisins then.”
She gave him some raisins before scurrying away with a bright red face.
…..
“Something must be wrong with my eyes because I can't take them off you!”
Bakugou frowned. “We told you, nothing's wrong with your eyes, Ashido. Just because I nicknamed you Raccoon Eyes doesn't mean–”
“Oh! No, no, I know that,” she cut him off swift, waving her hands. “Let me try something else. Maybe: are you a work of art? Because I can't take my eyes off you!”
Bakugou stared at her strangely. “Do you need to go to the Nurse Grandma? She can check you out if you have something in your eye.”
“I don't! Only you and I. Our future together.”
Bakugou stood and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the door. “Come on, something's clearly wrong with you, and you shitheads have beat it in my skull enough for me to know it isn't good to ignore what your body is telling you.”
“That wasn't what I–”
“She should still be in her office, it isn't late yet.”
“But I was just–”
“No buts, we're going.”
She stopped trying to dissuade him, meekly following him. “Okay,” she agreed, successfully chastised.
…..
“Are you a dream? Because if so, I don't want to wake up.”
“No. You must be exhausted though; you've been running through my mind all day.”
“Just around the pond a few times, I didn't run further than usual,” Bakugou said, rubbing at the sweat on his face with the towel around his neck.
“I hope you know CPR because you're taking my breath away.”
Bakugou cocked a brow. “We all know CPR. That's, like, basic shit 101. You sure you're good?”
“Perfect, now that you're here.”
Bakugou glanced at the tittering bushes behind Shinso, spotting a familiar blond streak of lightning, a flash of pink skin, the tiniest sliver of a wide grin.
“Right. Okay. Good luck on your run,” he said, backing away and leaving him there.
“You're so deadpan, Shinso; you have to really woo him. Bakugou's dense to pick up lines!”
“What if he's just not interested?”
“He's gotta be interested in someone. Ooo! I know!”
“I don't like this…”
…..
“Can you lend me a kiss? I promise I'll give it back.”
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, digging into his bag before offering a Hersey's kiss. “Keep it.”
Todoroki looked down at the kiss in his palm with some confusion. Then he looked at his phone.
“Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?”
Bakugou looked up this time, giving Todoroki a strange look. “You okay, Half-and-Half? Face feeling droopy? Smell burnt toast?”
“I'm not having a stroke.”
“Then how'd you forget my fucking name?”
“I didn't.”
Bakugou shook his head, grabbing his bag and leaving Todoroki with a clap on his shoulder.
“Good talk, idiot.”
“Bye.”
…..
“Is your name Google? Because you're everything I'm searching for.”
“Somehow, ‘Google’ is still better than fucking ‘Kacchan.’”
Midoriya paused, before soldiering on. “Do you think your license will be suspended for driving me wild?”
Bakugou tilted his head. “I don't have a fucking driving license, only a hero license, stupid nerd.”
“But–”
“We’re done here,” Bakugou cut him off, already halfway to the door. “That's enough of your shit today.”
“So Kacchan really doesn't understand pick up lines,” Midoriya muttered. “Is he just too literal? Maybe it's his hearing, he can't hear what's said well. That could be it. Or maybe he's asexual and just completely uninterested in relationships? But surely he could still pick up flirting that's that obvious. Right? I should report back to the others, I struck out too…”
…..
“Hey, Katsuki.”
Bakugou looked up from the stove where he was cooking dinner for himself and Kirishima. The common room was sparsely populated, but a growing crowd around the TV meant there was going to be a movie night. He hoped he could make it upstairs with Kirishima before someone invited either of them specifically. He really didn't feel like a lot of company tonight.
“I really like you,” he said, overwhelmed by the other cooking for him. “You want to go on a date tomorrow?”
Bakugou shrugged. “Sure. Usual spar and then go get dinner? We can go to that Korean BBQ place you like.”
“Hell yeah!”
“What?!?” Kaminari shrieked, earning everyone's attention. “That's what it takes to win you over? A spar and a meal?”
“The fuck you talking about?”
“We've all been trying to ask you out for months,” Ashido said, eyes nearly tearing up with frustration. “You haven't liked any of our pickup lines!”
“Pick-up lines?” Kirishima repeated. “You've been giving pick-up lines to my boyfriend?”
“How long have you been dating?” Jirou asked. “You never told any of us.”
“It should be pretty fucking obvious,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes and setting a plate of food in front of Kirishima. “We've been together for fucking ages.”
“Since Kamino,” Kirishima shrugged, slurping a noodle. He laughed. “I can't believe you all were hitting on Katsuki.” He looked at Bakugou. “What kind of lines did they give you?”
“Stupid ones that didn't make sense,” Bakugou said, scrubbing at the dishes.
“Wait, you knew we were hitting on you?” Sero asked.
“No way!”
Bakugou snorted. “You're all so stupid.”
“Unfair! Kirishima had an advantage!”
“Redo! I demand a recount!”
“There wasn't a vote.”
“Still, we all deserve an equal chance to win Bakugou's heart!”
“Dude, they're already gone.”
“What? Where?”
“They went to Kacchan's room.”
“Kirishima, don't you defile our innocent Bakugou!”
“Oh buddy…”
“I'll get some ice cream and chocolate for everyone.”
Kirishima combed his fingers through his hair, turning his head side to side and sighing at the black roots. He needed to redo it again. He dropped his hands to the counter, grabbing his headband to push his hair back and cover his roots. He'd run to the store after classes and get some more dye. It wasn't the quickest process, especially since he had to bleach the black first, so he would basically have to spend his whole off day from school doing it.
He took the teasing about being late and not having his hair styled with a shrug and a smile. Everyone was good natured about it and he just claimed to have woke up too late to style it, wearing the headband to keep it out of his face. He was sure most of the class could probably guess that he dyed his hair, but he still enjoyed the illusion, like maybe he was actually brave and not just pretending by slapping on color from a box.
"Oi, Shitty Hair," Bakugou called out as usual as they were dismissed from class.
Kirishima couldn't hold back a grimace. Bakugou always called him that, but on days like this, it tended to hit a little too close to heart. He managed a slightly strained smile.
"Hey, man. What's up?"
"Let's spar tomorrow. We've got an off day so we can use the gym all afternoon."
"I mean, kind of?" Kirishima winced. "Not exactly fun plans, just a chore I got to do. It'll take a couple hours at least."
Bakugou sighed longsufferingly. "Fine, what is it? I can help and it'll go faster. Then we can spar."
"Um." Kirishima hesitated. "It's not...really something the amount of people can change how fast it goes."
Bakugou scowled, turning away. "Fucking whatever, okay, if you didn't want to just say so." He started to stomp off with his shoulders high, tense. Shit, he'd hurt his feelings.
"No, wait, I do want to!" Kirishima called out, snatching his bag and rushing after him. "It's just," he exhaled. "It's my hair, alright? I've got to dye it again, my roots are growing out," he admitted, kicking his feet against the ground. "Not exactly something fun though. Or something worth bragging about."
Bakugou cut his eyes at him from the side. He seemed contemplative now instead of mad. Kirishima startled when he suddenly reached out, fingers grabbing a lock of Kirishima's hair and rubbed it between his fingers.
"That's why your hair's shitty," he said.
Kirishima flinched this time, looking away and feeling a bit of a burn in his eyes he tried to ignore. He grabbed his arm with his opposite hand, slumping. Yeah, he knew Bakugou had rude nicknames for everyone, but he hadn't thought Bakugou meant it when he called him Shitty Hair.
"Fuck, no, that's not--" Bakugou blurted out quickly. Kirishima peeked at him to see the blond actually looking a little flustered. "My mom knows all this shit about hair and I kind of picked some of it up on accident. Your hair's dry from the bleaching and the dye. You don't use the right conditioner. That's what I meant."
Kirishima blinked. That was the most he'd ever heard Bakugou say at one time without yelling.
"Let me help," Bakugou asked. Then he scowled. "No. No choice. I'm helping you," he stated, turning and grabbing Kirishima's wrist to tug him forward. Kirishima helplessly followed.
His mom and dad hadn't had any experience with hair dye so Kirishima had just had Google and the box instructions to follow. He wasn't against getting some advice from someone who knew what they were doing though. He had noticed his hair was dryer and more brittle, he just hadn't known there was an option to fix that without stopping dyeing his hair.
At the store, Bakugou stalked to the hair section, scanning the boxes. "What do you usually get?"
Kirishima pointed to one of the boxes on the bottom shelf, fire engine red.
"You can't just use any shit" Bakugou tsked, as he looked at the back of the box. "This one's fucking awful. Never use permanent dye, that's why you get roots so bad. Use semi permanent. You have to redye it either way, but this way it'll fade more evenly and be less noticeable, just might be darker overall if black's your natural," Bakugou explained, grabbing a different dye and shoving it in Kirishima's arms. He didn't say anything about the hair bleach Kirishima grabbed, so he guessed that wasn't bad. He turned to the register.
"The fuck you going?" Bakugou called out, further down the aisle.
Kirishima held up the two boxes. "To buy these? We're done, right?"
Bakugou's eyes bugged and he sputtered. "That's it?" He stressed. "What about oil? Leave in conditioner? Treated shampoo?"
Kirishima blinked, tilting his head just a little. "What?"
Bakugou groaned. "This is why your hair is so dry, damn." He dragged Kirishima down the aisle to some hair oils. "You at least need coconut oil. Argon is good too."
"Okay," Kirishima said slowly. Bakugou looked over them quickly before grabbing a green bottle of coconut oil.
"Leave in conditioner helps too," Bakugou explained. "Some of them can even help your dye last longer." He grabbed another. "Please tell me you at least use shampoo for dyed hair."
"Of course!" Kirishima defended, pointing the brand he usually got.
Bakugou looked apocalyptic. "2-in-1 shampoo?!" He practically screeched.
Kirishima winced. "I thought that was good? Extra hydration?"
"I'm exploding that when we get back," Bakugou informed him, grabbing a different bottle. He grabbed another conditioner as well.
"I need two conditioners?" Kirishima asked as he followed him to the register.
"One for in the shower to wash out, one's leave in," Bakugou said gruffly, grabbing the boxes from Kirishima and throwing them all on the belt. Kirishima was getting out his wallet when he realized Bakugou was paying.
"Hey, wait! It's for me, dude, I can pay!"
"It's a lot of extra shit you don't usually get, I'll get them this time," Bakugou said, accepting his change. He smirked. "Once you see the difference, you'll see why it's worth it."
"I'm kind of starting to think you like doing this kind of stuff," Kirishima said as they headed back.
"You need to take of your hair. It's part of your image as a hero." Bakugou said, and Kirishima could see a bit of a blush cross his face. "You're also apparently a dumbass."
Kirishima laughed. "I appreciate it, Bakugou."
"Whatever. We'll get started tomorrow morning. Should be done by lunch."
(After MUCH waiting, I present Part 2 of this Hair Care ficlet)
(Also on Ao3 now)
Kirishima was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, reading over one of the conditioners Bakugou had gotten him, when the blond knocked twice before coming in without waiting for a response. It was seven in the morning.
"You're up. Good." Bakugou nodded. Kirishima smiled sheepishly. He didn't necessarily make a habit of sleeping in, but compared to Bakugou--who woke up at five every day to go running--he guessed he slept in kind of late usually. He'd tried to wake up earlier today, knowing the blond would want to start early.
"Did you wash your hair yesterday?" Bakugou asked, coming over and sitting across from him, pulling the bleaching kit over for him to read over.
Kirishima blinked. "Yes?" He said unsurely.
Bakugou glanced up, frowning. "Shit. I forgot to say yesterday. It's better to not wash it a couple days before you bleach it, helps build up oils so the bleach doesn't irritate your scalp as much."
"Really?"
Bakugou nodded, looking down at the kit again with a frown.
"I don't really want to wait until next weekend though," Kirishima frowned. "Can we still do it anyways? I won't wash it before next time. It doesn't usually bother me too much anyways unless I leave it on too long."
"Don't ever leave it on longer than the box says, idiot," Bakugou grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But fine, it's your head. Come on, let's get this started. How many times do you bleach it normally?" He grabbed the bowl Kirishima had put beside the stuff to start mixing, nodding at some of the other supplies as he pulled on some gloves.
"At least two," Kirishima admitted sheepishly. He hated taking up Bakugou's whole free day with this, although the blond didn't react beyond a nod.
"Alright. Put the towel around your shoulders. I'll part your hair in a second."
Kirishima did, sitting and watching the blond work at getting the bleach ready. It was a little strange but mostly the silence was comfortable. Bakugou gestured for him to turn around, sitting behind him. Kirishima felt hyper-aware of him as Bakugou grabbed his brush.
Kirishima's mom used to brush his hair all the time, though it had been sometime now. He liked having other people play with his hair. And this was Bakugou. He leaned back into the touch after the first pass of the brush through his hair, slumping his shoulders.
Bakugou was efficient but Kirishima noticed he was also careful, easily getting the few tangles out of his hair without pulling. Then he parted his hair into four sections, tapping Kirishima's shoulder for the other to offer up his hair clips one at a time. He smiled softly to himself. It was nice, working together like this without having to speak. Just like when they fought together as a team. Coupled with the early morning, the quiet of the dorm, the steadiness of Bakugou's movements...Kirishima hummed lowly, closing his eyes and just following the other's silent direction.
Kirishima had opened his balcony door earlier since he knew the bleach smell was strong, and the breeze it brought in was nice as he felt the first touch of the wet brush to his hair. He tried to sit still, feeling the familiar tingling in his scalp. He would have to remember next time what Bakugou had said about not washing his hair a day or two before. The blond really knew everything, it seemed.
It felt like it took no time for Bakugou to finish applying the bleach. Much quicker than Kirishima when he tried to do it himself, but then, he was always having to check in the mirror and twist all kinds of ways to make sure he got all the spots. It probably would go quicker with Bakugou's help, actually. He grinned. Maybe they could spar this afternoon after all.
"Thirty minutes," Bakugou said, his voice almost startling Kirishima since they'd been so quiet. He turned around to see Bakugou discarding the gloves and setting a timer on his phone. "Then we can do the next coat after you wash that off." He smirked. "Heh, going to be weird to see you as a blond."
Kirishima blushed. "Man, blond really isn't my color. Suits you better." He grinned. "Hey, ever think about dying your hair? Coloring your hair would be super easy. You could do, like, orange tips or something, like an explosion!"
Bakugou opened his mouth, face growing redder, before he closed it again. "I'm not dying my hair," he finally spoke, sounding strained.
"Awe, but it'd be super cool, man," Kirishima tried, not really thinking he'd get the other to agree. "Or what about red tips?" He was surprised though by the lack of an immediate 'no.' He looked up to see Bakugou biting his lip, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Let's just finish your hair, hair for brains," Bakugou shifted, eyes landing on Kirishima's laptop. "Let's watch something, kill the time."
"Sure, sure," Kirishima agreed.
They existed comfortably within their rhythm. Kirishima went to wash out the first coat once the timer went off and by the time he returned Bakugou was already ready with some gloves and the bleach again. Honestly they were going much faster than Kirishima had ever managed, but even more so, Kirishima appreciated just having some time with his best friend.
With the second bleaching, his hair got lighter, and then it was time to apply the red dye.
“No, not yet,” Bakugou said as Kirishima reached for the box of dye to hand to him. “Purple shampoo first.” He handed Kirishima a bottle.
Kirishima blinked down at it. “Purple shampoo? What does that do?”
“Neutralizes the yellow tone. Helps the color. Just trust me.”
“Aye, aye!” Kirishima agreed easily, teasing. Bakugou rolled his eyes, but he had a fond look on his face and Kirishima's heart squeezed.
After the purple shampoo was used, then it was time for the dye.
“Okay,” Bakugou said, reading the box. “Maybe with the purple shampoo, you'll only need one application, but we'll see.”
“Can't believe how fast we're managing this,” Kirishima said as Bakugou started to separate his hair. His eyes closed and he titled his head back a little into the blond's touch. “Usually takes me forever just to get through the bleaching.”
“I'll bet,” Bakugou muttered around a hair clip between his teeth. “Surprised you never miss a spot.”
“I do sometimes,” Kirishima admitted. “That's part of what takes so long. I'll think I'm done and then have missing pieces I have to fix.”
“Ugh.” Bakugou's nose scrunched in distaste. “That sounds irritating. Just let me help you. Fucking stupid to waste the whole day on this shit.”
Kirishima smiled, tilting his head up even more so he could catch Bakugou's eyes. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
Bakugou grunted, not directly responding, but Kirishima didn't need him to. He closed his eyes, feeling Bakugou applying the dye methodically. He hummed to himself, an age-old theme song to some hero cartoon he used to watch as a kid, and he smiled when he heard Bakugou humming the back up vocals but still didn't open his eyes.
You're welcome. I appreciate you. You are cared for, Bakugou's actions said without words. Kirishima soaked up Bakugou’s care as much as his hair soaked up the dye.
Once the dye was done, Kirishima turned around to see a couple foil pieces in Bakugou’s hair in the front.
“Oh? Are you really dying your hair?” Kirishima asked, surprised. He didn’t even know when Bakugou had had a chance to do that.
“Just the front couple pieces,” Bakugou said, face a little red, and he refused to meet Kirishima’s gaze.
“Nice! I’m excited to see it; I’m sure you’ll look awesome!”
Bakugou grumbled to himself but didn’t argue, instead turning back on the show they were watching and sitting with his arms crossed. Kirishima grinned to himself, brushing against the other as they balanced the laptop between them.
Have a really silly ficlet about Bakugou being a disaster aroace, and the Baku-squad+a few of the Deku-squad being in a huge polycule (based on that post going around about the guy who "infiltrated" a poly-house and no one knew who he was dating, but he did the dishes so they left him alone):
(Also on Ao3)
Bakugou was pretty sure this should've been discussed before they all agreed to move into one house together after graduation.
Kaminari was dating Shinsou.
Todoroki was dating Sero.
Deku was dating Uraraka.
Jirou was dating Yaoyorozu.
Ashido was dating Kirishima.
And Bakugou did the dishes.
It had taken a couple weeks for him to realize that literally everyone was paired up besides him. Since Year 1, they'd all sort of taken up a sleep-where-you-are-when-you-can approach--as hero work didn't always give you a proper sleep schedule--and that had carried over to the house. Bakugou crashed in a different bed every night, and it wasn't until the second week that he realized that the same couple shared the same bed every night, it was just him that switched it up.
Well, technically, he had a room to himself where he kept all his things, he just never slept in it cause everyone had taught him to rely on your friends for shit, and when he slept alone, he had horrible wake-up-to-explosions nightmares.
Was he supposed to ask about sharing now? No one had said anything, but also, no one had pointed out the fact that he was eleventh-wheeling them all either.
So, he decided, fuck it; he was paying one-eleventh of the rent, like hell was he letting anything jeopardize that.
Which meant dishes.
Bakugou's experience with shared living back at U.A. told him that the least favored chore was doing the dishes. It had been a drag to get anyone, even Iida, to do them. So since they'd moved into the house together, Bakugou had been doing the dishes every night, quietly taking the most hated chores and hoping it would be enough that no one would kick him out when they realized he wasn't dating any of them.
(He didn't really think they would kick him out. If anything, they'd all been super pushy to have him move in with them; they'd probably fight him if he even alluded to moving out. But still, the small voice inside that told him he was broken for not being interested in dating also told him to keep his mouth shut about this specific thing and just go with the flow.)
“Thanks, Bakugou!” Kirishima said as Bakugou finished loading the dishwasher, hugging him from behind.
“You're the best,” Kaminari said, nuzzling against his neck as he sprawled across the bed with him and Shinsou.
“I'll do your laundry tomorrow night, Kacchan, just leave it in my basket,” Deku said, squeezing his arm across the back of the couch while Uraraka was in a blanket burrito between them.
“Another day with my favorite partner,” Todoroki smiled at Bakugou as they headed home from theirs and Deku's joint agency.
“Thanks for the jam sesh,” Jirou said, hip-checking him lightly as they passed in the hall.
“So goddamn touchy,” Bakugou muttered as Ashido ruffled his hair, as Yaomomo hugged him, Shinsou leaned on him to nap, Sero tangled their legs together in bed. He couldn't get away from them (and didn't know if he really wanted to in the first place). They made him feel weird, like maybe he wasn't broken somewhere inside, and that was an addicting but dangerous feeling.
(What Bakugou didn't know was that everyone thought he was dating them all, in various kinds of ways. Kirishima and Midoriya were the only ones who suspected that Bakugou didn't realize this, but they both were just waiting for the temperamental blond to catch up. They knew he would eventually. He always did.)
Bakugou had never had a Familiar. He didn't need a Familiar. When everyone started pairing up with their partners, when the Familiars started traveling more as cats and dogs and rabbits and snakes than people, he just sneered and stalked off on his own. He was the strongest mage in his class, his offensive magic was out of anyone else's league. He didn't need a Familiar to enhance his skills, he was already the best. Who cared if none of the Familiars ever came near him? He didn't, that was for sure.
I know it's been a bit, but I did manage to get a tiny ficlet out (yes, heavily inspired by Gladiator). Hopefully you still enjoy this!
.....
Kirishima watched him in the arena through the small barred opening from the Pit, wishing to be at his side, but this was a solo match.
Bakugou versus the Caesar.
His head was held high, golden hair shining like a crown, even if the real laurel of golden leaves was on the head of his opponent. It would only be temporary, Kirishima was sure. Bakugou would not lose. He couldn't.
The people were practically silent, the confusion having set in when the Caesar stepped into the arena personally, and they still didn't seem sure who to cheer for. Kirishima knew though. He knew the true Caesar.
“Bakugou!” He shouted through the bars. “Kill him! Free us!”
“Bakugou!” The other gladiators followed his lead, cheering from the Pit for their comrade. The roar rose, from the Pit into the stands, and soon the citizens were cheering for the gladiator too.
“Hail, Bakugou!”
“Finish him!”
“By the Gods’ Will!”
Bakugou didn't acknowledge any of them, mouth twisted in an unhappy scowl, and as he dodged a deft flick of his opponent, Kirishima's eyes caught his slight dragging of his foot.
Was Bakugou injured? He frowned. He hadn't been hit during the fight, so if he was, it could only have been before the fight started. When he and the Caesar came from below the ground together, the Caesar looking smug while Bakugou only looked as determined as always. Could he have harmed Bakugou before the fight began?
Bakugou did an impressive flourish, sending his opponent's sword flying from his hand. The crowd screamed for blood. The Caesar demanded a sword from the guards, but they turned him away. Bakugou gritted his teeth, and the next swing sliced into the Caesar's throat, an offering of blood to the Gods, as the people had requested.
The arena was silent in the aftermath, in awe perhaps. Kirishima certainly was.
A cheer broke through, and suddenly a wave of exultation swept through the crowd, feet stomping, tears streaming, the relief of freedom from such a tyrant sending the citizens into wild celebration.
Bakugou raised his sword, blade pointed to the sky, and the cheers grew somehow louder. His head bowed before the Gods in respect, and Kirishima was certain it would be the last time that head bowed.
There were a couple votes for me to focus on Fuck Our Instincts (You're Mine) in the next year, so that's going to be the WIP I aim to finish in 2025 (the next chapter is supposed to be the last chapter).
I appreciate the responses! As a treat, here's a lil' snippet of from the next chapter.
SNIPPET FROM CHAPTER 5 (coming soon-ish? maybe within the next couple months, at least)
"Bonding, hm?" Mitsuki stirred her coffee before taking a sip, while Kirishima and Bakugou both sat across from her, picking at their breakfast and trying not to look too nervous.
"You think it would work?" Bakugou asked, meeting her gaze.
She shrugged. "I have no idea. You two are closer than any non-related Alphas I know." She paused. "But, I will say, after our Bond," she gestured between herself and Masaru, who was cleaning the morning's dishes. "My instincts were pretty wired for weeks afterwards."
"Wired like...how?"
"Like, protective, clingy."
"You also were scent-marking me like crazy," Masaru input, chuckling lowly as he came to join them at the table. Bakugou's nose scrunched but he didn't comment; they had asked for this conversation after all.
"You think two Alphas would be protective?" Kirishima wondered.
"Clingy and scent-marking, definitely. Protective? Possibly," Mitsuki said. "Probably would depend on the situation."
Bakugou frowned. "Do you think it would work though, like for our Alphas to finally accept one another?"
Mitsuki sighed, holding her cup in both hands and leaning forward. "I know there's instances of Mate abuse, that not every Bond is the same, but I know after we Bonded, the very thought of hurting Masaru revolted my Alpha. Of course, it was kind of like that before too, but it became really ramped up after. So if there's anything that would get your Alphas to get with the program, I'd put my bet on a Bond." She gave them both a serious look. “But, boys, you both need to be sure about this. Breaking a Bond isn’t anything to play around with. Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean it’s easy. You saw what happened with Eijirou when you two were separated. You’d probably both be sent to the hospital if you tried to break a Bond.”
Kirishima nodded seriously, but couldn’t help the smile the crept onto his face. "I think it will work," he admitted, turning to Bakugou.
Bakugou rolled his eyes. "Obviously, me too," he agreed.
Mitsuki laughed, turning to Masaru. "Should we get a hotel for the weekend?"
"It might be best if we stayed here, just in case something happened–"
"God, you're so embarrassing!" Bakugou shouted to cut him off, standing, face as red as Kirishima's hair and apparently unable to deal with it anymore. "Come on, Eijirou! You've got a paper to finish!"
Kirishima was no less embarrassed, but he still bowed slightly as he stood up. "Thank you both for being so understanding."
"Oh, Eijirou," Mitsuki exclaimed, standing and sweeping him into a hug. "You're such a good boy. I know you'll take good care of our Katsuki."
"Hag! Let him go!" Bakugou demanded from the top of the stairs.
Kirishima laughed, moving to follow. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"Please, boys, I know we said we're supportive, but we don't really want to hear–"
"Shut the fuck up, oh my god!" Bakugou shrieked, and both of his parents devolved into loud laughter while Kirishima rushed upstairs to hide his burning face.
Of all my WIPs on Ao3--singular fics and series--what's the one specific one that you wish would have another chapter/installment, over the others?
I'm still struggling with getting any writing done, but I don't like leaving anything unfinished and I am working on things behind the scenes. If there's one work that y'all are more into than the others, I can try to focus my efforts on that one, get an update to you in 2025.
You're welcome to send in prompts, but I can't make any guarantees about writing them. My mental health hasn't been the greatest lately and writing anything has been a bit difficult, tbh.
pixelskylines
gummygunk
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
snowghoul