chapter 15 â WAIT, THIS ISNâTâŚ.
synopsis: you accidentally get added to the wrong class group chat during the start of the second semester (a class you arenât even taking), but the people in it are weirdly entertaining so you decide to stay. whatâs the worst that could happen?
⤡ ă ËËË chapter summary: after being cursed with the worst writer's block you've ever had, you enlist the help of bakugo and kirishima. unfortunately only kirishima is able to make it, but he's able to provide you with some inspiration...and something a bit more than that too
content: smau, college!au, eventual poly!krbk x oc, oc has a name
NOTE: thereâs a written section at the endâplease read!
âGood newsâKatsukiâs on his way with food!â Kirishima said cheerfully.
You whipped around to face him immediately. âOh thank fuck! I thought I was about to pass out from hunger.â
You had been here for hours, and Kirishima almost as long.
He sat in the chair beside yours turned backward with his arms crossed over the top, chin resting lazily against them. He looked almost too big for the roomâbroad shoulders, red hair pulled back messily, shoes planted on the floor between tangles of black cables.Â
You felt kinda bad for making him stay so late.
âYou know,â you said, turning back and clicking through one of the vocal takes, âyou can head back once Bakugo gets here.â
Kirishima lifted his head. âYou kicking me out?â
âNo,â you smiled without looking away from the screen. âI just feel bad keeping you here. Iâve already gotten through the bulk of the song, and Iâm just editing the same eight measures over and over, which is probably incredibly boring to watch.â
You glanced over at him, raising a brow in disbelief.
He grinned. âOkay, itâs a little boring, but you make it look cool.â
âThat is such a fake compliment.â
âItâs not fake,â he said laughing. âI donât know what half of this stuff does, but you do. Thatâs cool to me.â
You rolled your eyes, but your face warmed anyway. Kirishima had a way of saying things so sincerely that it was hard to deflect them. He wasnât smooth about it or tried to dress it up in a way that seemed too much. He just said what he meant and looked at you like he wanted you to believe it.Â
It was refreshing, honestly.Â
You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head with a groan. âSo whatâs blondie bringing?â
âKnowing him? Something aggressively healthy but still somehow the best thing Iâve ever tasted in my life.â
You snorted at that, picturing Bakugo storming through campus with takeout in hand, scowling like feeding his friends was a personal inconvenience. But he still did it. He always complained, always acted like you were all helpless for needing him, and then somehow always remembered what everyone liked.
Kirishima watched your expression for a second too long, and you caught it. âWhat?â
âNothing,â he looked down at his phone, smiling faintly. âYou just get this look when people take care of you.â
Your fingers paused on the mouse, a moment passed for a beat too long, and you tried to laugh it off. âWhat look?â
âI donât know,â he shrugged, but his voice softened. âLike youâre surprised every time.â
The studio went quiet except for the faint hum of the speakers. You looked at the screen, suddenly very interested in the audio file in front of you. âThatâs not true.â
Kirishima paused briefly, and you noticed his head shooting up from out of the corner of your eye. He took his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it.
âMâsorry,â he said sheepishly. âI didnât mean to make it weird.â
You glanced over at him, and the guilt on his face made your chest tight. âItâs okay,â you said quietly. âI justâŚI donât know. I guess Iâm still getting used to it.â
Your hand flexed in your lap, fingers curling into the sleeve of your hoodie. âPeople noticing stuff about me.â
Kirishimaâs brows shot up slightly in surprise, as if that was the last thing he expected you to say. He didnât pry though, which made it more difficult because for some reason, he was so easy to talk to that it made you reckless.
âIâve spent a lot of my life trying to be low-maintenance,â you began, voice low. âI know we kinda talked about this before, but Iâm always worried Iâm being too much for people. Iâve been called âdramaticâ or âtoo emotionalâ in the past, so I try really hard not to ask for anything. The last thing I want to be is a burden.â
Your chest began to tighten like a coil, but you pushed yourself to keep talking.
âIf thereâs a problem, I fix it myself. If Iâm overwhelmed, I shove it down and pretend itâs fine. But then someone does something small, like bringing food orââ you gestured to the redhead sitting across from you ââsitting with me while I brainstorm, and I act normal butâŚâ
You laughed once under your breath, a little embarrassed. âBut it gets to me.â
Kirishima remained silent. When you looked over at him again, his expression was painfully raw and open.
âHey,â he whispered, âthat doesnât sound dramatic.â
Your grip on your sleeve tightened, knuckles turning white. âIt doesnât?â
âNo,â he shook his head, âit sounds lonely.â
His words felt like a shot to the chest, right through the coil, shattering it into pieces and leaving behind a sharp, stinging pain instead.Â
You looked down quickly, blinking at the scattered sheet music on the desk. There were scribbles all over the margins, rushed notes to yourself, reminders to breathe between phrases, corrections youâd circled three times with a red pen.
The fact that Kirishima, whom you have only known for a few months, was able to accurately hit the mark on exactly what it was youâve been feeling all these yearsâit scared you, but it also brought you an overwhelming amount of relief. For a long time, all youâve ever wanted was for the universe to bring you someone who would see you and understand.
Never ever did you expect it to come in the form of a friendly redhead with an aggressive, blond counterpart.
Kirishima shifted in his chair, voice careful. âI get it. The wholeâŚtrying to make yourself easier for people thing.â
That took you by surprise, and you could tell it was all over your face by the way his lip curled up at the corner. âDonât look so shocked, Sparks.â
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find the right words. âS-Sorry, I didnât mean toâŚItâs justâŚReally?â
Kirishima chuckled lightly and adjusted his position in the chair so that he was now sitting in it correctly. His feet dragged across the floor as he spun himself back and forth.
âYeah,â he rubbed the back of his neck, âI mean, people donât really expect me to, I guess. Iâm loud. Iâm friendly. Iâm the guy whoâs supposed to hype everyone up and be their support person. Donât get me wrong, I like being that guyâI do!â
He cut himself off abruptly, eyes cast downward. âBut sometimes it feels like if Iâm not that guy, people wonât know what to do with me.â
Your face fell, brows curling downward. Instinctively, your body leaned forward, wanting to reach for him but you restrained yourself and gripped onto your knees instead. Kirishimaâs eyes locked onto yours for a fraction of a second and in that moment, you swore the room became smaller, tighter, bringing the two of you closer without even moving.
âIf Iâm tired or scared, I feel like I have to dress it up as something else, make it funny or useful. Turn it into encouragement for somebody else.â He huffed out a breathless laugh, but it sounded sharper than usual. âI donât knowâsometimes I think Iâm better at being there for people than letting people be there for me.â
Something in your chest ached, but it wasnât the pain from before. This one was different.Â
âHey,â you began carefully. âYou donât always have to be easy either.â
Kirishima looked up, head tilting to the side, a questioning look in his eye.
You held his gaze, nerves making your head spiral. âFor people to love you, I mean.â
His lips parted slightly, eyes widening in surprise. It only lasted for a brief moment before softening into something uncertain.Â
Thatâs when you realized, too late, how intimate the words had soundedâlove.
You had meant friends. Of course. The ones you shared, your group, the people who cared about him. But the word still hung between you, suspended in the air like a flashing light which you both vehemently refused to acknowledge.
âYeah?â he asked quietly.
Your heart gave one hard, stupid kick.
âYeahâŚâ you replied, voice small.
The studio lights reflected faintly in his eyes as neither of you looked away from each other. Kirishima looked tired, more mellow than usual, and more real than you were used to seeing him. His hair had started falling loose from where heâd tied it back, and it took every ounce of strength in you not to reach over and push it back in place.
Then your computer chimed, snapping you both out of it. You turned quickly, clearing your throat as you reached for the mouse.
âRight. I should, uh, save this before the program crashes and ruins my entire life.â
Kirishima blinked a few times, looking like heâd forgotten where he was. âYeah,â he said, voice a little rough, âgood idea.â
You clicked through the project file, saving the newest version before shutting it down and leaned back into your chair. Your pulse still hadnât settled, each beat was so loud you felt it pounding in your ears. The room suddenly felt warmer and you knew if you didnât move around and do something, you would go stir crazy and possibly say something you werenât supposed to.
âIâm going to adjust the mic stand before I forget and leave it like that,â you said, chuckling nervously as you stood.
You stepped around your chair toward the booth, mentally sorting through what needed to be fixed before tomorrowâs recording session. The cable from one of the monitors had come loose earlier, trailing farther across the floor than it should have been. Unfortunately, you noticed it at the exact moment your foot caught beneath it.
The world tilted and you shut your eyes tight, waiting for the impact of your body hitting the floor.
Kirishima moved instantly.
His chair scraped back hardr and then his arm was around your waist, solid and warm, catching you before you could hit the ground. But the momentum pulled him with you and he stumbled backwards, shoes slipping against the wood. The two of you crashed lightly into the edge of the soundboard table behind him.
The equipment rattled as a stack of papers slid sideways and onto the floor. Kirishimaâs free hand shot out to brace against the table, trapping you between him and the console.Â
For a split second, the only sound you could hear was him, breathing heavily into your ear.
âSparks,â he gasped. âAre you okay?â His voice was so close.
You nodded, but the movement was limited because his face was right there.
âYeah,â you breathed. âIâm okay.â
His arm was still around your waist, your own pressed up against his chest. You could feel how fast his heart was beating under your palm.
Kirishima peered down at you, concern written all over his face, but it slowly shifted into something else when he realized just how close you were. His eyes grazed over your face, searching for a sign that you were uncomfortable. The arm on your waist loosened a bit, giving you the opportunity to pull away.
If the room wasnât already warm, it sure was now.
The studio lights felt blinding and the hum of the speakers seemed louder, overtaking the constant buzz in your head. The glass of the recording booth reflected the two of you back in a blurred shapeâKirishimaâs body angled protectively over yours, your hands still pressed to him, both of you frozen like moving would break whatever fragile thing had settled between you.
Then his gaze dropped, briefly, to your mouth.
Your heart skidded to a stop, breath catching in your throat.
The sound made Kirishimaâs stare snap back to yours, and his face changed again, morphing into something with a little more heat behind it. He cocked his head slightly to the side.
It was his way of askingâasking if this was okay.
The logical part of you told you to step back, to shove him off you and move away. You were friends, you shouldnât be doing this.
But his hand felt so warm and tight at your waist, and the other part of youâthe emotional partâwanted nothing more than to be selfish, to take something for yourself for once.
You werenât sure who leaned in first, but before you knew it, the space between you shrank until his forehead nearly brushed yours, until his breath was warm against your mouth. Your fingers clutched the front of his shirt tightly.
Kirishima paused, just close enough that one tiny movement would close the distance.
âIf you donât want this,â he said breathlessly, âplease tell me to stop.â
Despite his words, Kirishima tugged you even closer, fingers gripping the soft skin at your waist, desperate, almost pleading in a way. But he stayed quiet and patient, waiting for you to respond.
By now the buzzing in your head grew louder and louder to the point where that was the only thing you could hear. You felt dizzy. Instead of answering, you pulled him even closer and his lips brushed just over yoursâ
âThe hell are you two doing?â
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