June 1st falls on a random Tuesday. The weather is decent enough, the sun bright but not harsh, and the air is pleasant, slowly dipping to colder temperatures.
Everyone crowds around various desks to chatter before homeroom, and Iida spends a grand total of two minutes trying to bring about order before migrating towards Todoroki’s desk to join in the conversation he’s having with Midoriya and Sero. When there’s roughly 14 seconds to spare before Aizawa rolls into the class in his signature yellow sleeping bag, everyone takes their seats and on time, as always, Aizawa arrives.
Three things are noted immediately:
1. The yellow sleeping bag is nowhere in sight. It’s happened before, but not often.
2. There’s a strange bounce to Aizawa’s step. Not like a normal bounce, but he’s not dragging his feet like a reluctant, sleep-deprived sloth. His steps are focused and intentional. This is a very rare, almost never-before-witnessed sight.
3. His hair is up. He doesn’t usually do it up for class, though they’ve seen him pull it into a pony when he’s dressed more casually and not in his hero attire. This is an unprecedented situation.
The class watches Aizawa wearily because, from literal months of experience, they have realized that when something is out of the ordinary, shit usually flings itself towards the fan in a most spectacularly dramatic fashion.
Even Bakugou is on-edge, watching Aizawa like a hawk. Midoriya is ready to whip his iconic notebook out and make yet another behavioral observation under the Eraserhead section. Iida looks ready to disperse any tension. They are all ready.
Aizawa sets his stuff down, gruffly wishes them good morning and then turns around to write something on the board.
They are not ready.
It’s not a big deal at all actually. In hindsight, its stupidly minor, but with Aizawa, it stands out bright and shiny, and even Koda makes a small noise of surprise.
Aizawa’s hair is pulled into a pony with a scrunchie. Which is fine, all well and good. But the scrunchie is made of a rainbow-colored hyper shiny material, which is surprising, because Aizawa always seems allergic to color, especially on his person.
And finally, there are only 6 colors in the rainbow. Momo connects the dots before the rest, though Midoriya follows closely behind.
‘That’s-‘
‘-pride,’ Midoriya breathes, soft but just enough for Bakugou, Jirou, and Sero to hear.
The class is shocked for the first ten or so minutes, as more and more people make the connection, but honestly, it’s just a scrunchie. And with Eri under Aizawa’s care, it isn’t unlikely that he’s worn one of her hair ties or something. This is probably a coincidence, even if it is the first of June, so everyone stops fixating and starts focusing on class.
The scrunchie goes unmentioned and1A is on the same page- it’s definitely just a one-time thing.
It is not a one-time thing.
On the second of June, Aizawa saunters in seemingly back to his normal attire, and a few shoulders slump. They might all be saying its a coincidence, but that doesn’t mean they’re happy about it. There’s something so reassuring about the idea of their teacher, someone that protects them fiercely and loyally, being supportive.
Aizawa doesn’t seem to pick up on the mood, he just assigns them some self-study before taking a seat at his desk. And then he, very uncharacteristically, puts his feet up and reclines in his chair, a folder propped open in his lap.
There’s a collective inhale, the whole class breathing in as one because there it is- undeniable proof that it isn’t a coincidence.
On Aizawa’s feet are the brightest, most vibrantly gay pride socks ever. Each of the 6 colors loop around the material before the pattern repeats, and there’s no white material or anything, just the colors of the flag over and over.
‘Holy shit,’ Mina whisper-shouts, and her smile is blinding. Uraraka giggles. Tokoyami nods sagely and says, ‘The support of a figure of authority is a beacon against the darkness of humanity.’
They do their best to focus on self-study, but there’s a buzz around the class, a happy vibe that permeates the air and saturates it completely. There’s a glob of purple in the corner that seems indifferent, if not actively dismayed, but he goes ignored.
Midoriya writes something in his notebook and puts three stars next to it.
On the third of June, Aizawa has a rainbow hair clip pushing his bangs out of his face, and on the fourth, the soles of his shoes are rainbow and proud.
The competition begins the following Monday.
The thing about class 1A is that they try to support one another in any way possible, to encourage and stand together and everything. The other thing is that they’re hella competitive. It’s a hero course after all, and they’re trying to come out on top and be the best.
And it turns out their teacher, the chilled, nonchalant, mostly uninterested Aizawa Shota, is almost more than a little competitive when it comes to this stuff.
On Monday, Momo uses a pride scrunchie to pull her hair into her signature ponytail. Jirou has a band around her wrist that says love is love is love, and Satou bakes rainbow cookies for the whole class, leaving a few on Aizawa’s desk beforehand.
Their teacher walks in with his hair up again, and when his eyes settle on the cookies, they widen fractionally before he schools his expression into a more neutral one. He greets them all and his eyes flit over Jirou’s band, and the colorful cookie crumbs around the class. When he looks at Momo, she quickly turns her head to the side, showing off her hair accessory that matches his.
Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t smile, or even nod, nothing. He just kinda gets down to business. At least, that’s what it would look like to someone on the outside.
But 1A reads him- they watch the way he pushes his hair back, fingers lingering on his scrunchie while he reads out their assignment. They see the way his eyes momentarily linger on the cookies or Jirou’s wrist, such small, quick glances that they all catch because they read him. They know him, and he knows that they know.
When class ends, the room is filled with warm giggles when Aizawa leaves, the plate of cookies in hand.
The next day, Ojiro has a braid in his tail with different threads mixed in there, forming the familiar rainbow pattern. Mina has her horns painted in a pride flag ombre, spanning three different colors on each. Kirishima uses a rainbow hairband to keep his bangs out of his face during training, and Midoriya switches out his black shoelaces for rainbows.
Aizawa’s eyes ping pong around the class, and for a moment everyone wonders how many dress codes they’re breaking but he doesn’t say anything again. He just reads out their assignments as usual, his own pride pin shining brightly on his chest, against the black of his hero uniform.
It’s all fun and games, full of warmth and support until Aizawa starts pulling out the big guns.
Because when Aizawa walks in with a multicolored scarf wrapped around his neck, the class collectively realizes- he is challenging them, and beating them quite mercilessly at that.
It’s obvious enough that even Bakugou growls in frustration, and then the games begin.
Mina shaves the word Pride into Iida’s undercut. Kaminari paints his nails. Hagakure replaces all her uniform buttons with multicolored ones. Shoji replaces his teal blue face mask with a pride one, and Uraraka has a few braids on the back of her head too. Satou’s desserts get more and more elaborate, more and more eye-catching and delicious.
The day after Aizawa walks in with a multicolored scarf, belt and goggles set, Satou stays up the entire night baking, set on paying their teacher back thrice fold.
Morning finds a rainbow croquembouche perched on Aizawa’s desk. Even Bakugou gives Satou a nod of respect because what the fuck? It’s literally a tower of sweets, brightly colored and absolutely delectable, and they get the biggest reaction out of Aizawa yet. His eyes widen, mouth dropping into a shocked little ‘o’, and his eyes immediately seek out Satou, who gives him a wide grin. Shaking his head incredulously, Aizawa conducts his class as usual. It’s a herculean task but he manages.
He still walks out with the entire dish balanced in his hands with great care.
Every teacher in their year has rainbow-colored tongues for the rest of the day.
Aizawa retaliates with eyeshadow. Rainbow eyeshadow. Jirou’s mouth drops, Aoyama starts wailing dramatically and even Todoroki looks impressed. Bakugou clicks his tongue and looks away, and Mina wants revenge.
The entire class comes together for the final showdown. Everyone tries to put color in their hair, though it doesn’t really work for the darker colors. Tokoyami adds a few sprinkles of glitter into his feathers, Iida switches his plain black frames to much more gaudy pride ones, and Todoroki and Bakugou have the most vibrant hair of them all, bright and ridiculous. Aizawa eyes them fondly almost, and that’s when they should’ve realized they were way out of their depth.
Because on June 30th, Aizawa walks into the class, his uniform spick and span, hair down, a ridiculous bounce in his step. Everyone eyes him from head to toe, and when they land on his feet, Kirishima inhales shakily.
‘No,’ he whispers.
‘Oh yes,’ Aizawa answers, his grin far too gleeful.
‘No fucking way,’ Bakugou snarls. His hands are shaking.
‘Language,’ Aizawa admonishes, his smile widening.
‘We’re doomed,’ Mina mumbles.
And right then, Aizawa taps the heels of his shoes together, and his pride rainbow shoes glow up and that’s it. Class 1A has lost. They accept it rather graciously, all things considered. Aizawa cackles like an evil witch, and Sero comforts a weeping Kaminari.
On July 1st, things go back to normal. Mostly normal.
Because Midoriya keeps the shoelaces. Someone sneaks a rainbow charm on Bakugou’s bag that he somehow keeps forgetting to obliterate to pieces. Kirishima doesn’t switch out his hairband, and Ojiro asks Tsuyu to braid his tail when they go out for more casual outings.
And Aizawa? Well, the soles of his hero boots are never quite the same.
The Bakusquad are currently sprawled all over the common room couches, taking turns playing on the PS5. This is a normal sight, one that Ojiro has walked in on several times. There’s yelling, screaming, fingers poking ribs, and Bakugou kicking anyone that dares to touch his hair. The whole group is in a mad tangle of limbs, the audience yelling profanities while the people with the controllers (in this case, Sero and Kirishima) have a look of sheer determination painted on their faces as they race each other in an all too intense game of Mario kart.
And, in the midst of all this chaos, is a large plate filled to the brim with onigiri- perfectly shaped, delicious looking balls of rice wrapped in shiny seaweed.
When Kirishima loses to Sero a few moments later, the tape hero whoops victoriously as the redhead visibly deflates, groaning loudly and seemingly melting into the floor. Bakugou laughs out loud at the sight and pulls the plate right up to Kirishima’s face and says, “Take your pick, Red.” He sounds gleeful, and it makes a shiver run down the length of Ojiro’s spine.
Kaminari finally catches sight of him and waves him over, “Oji! Get over here man.”
Ojiro makes his way to the couch and sits at the very edge, watching as Kirishima sighs deeply and pulls out an onigiri at random. For someone that loves food, and especially rice, with a fierce sort of vengeance, Kirishima looks deathly pale and completely unwilling to eat. Ojiro waves at Kaminari to get his attention before pointing at Kirishima and going, “What is happening?”
“Just wait,” the electric blonde smirks, his eyes dancing with delight.
Ojiro watches the redhead inhale one last time before taking a large bite. He chews the onigiri for a moment before his face contorts in absolute horror and he yanks what can only be described as a spit bucket from the other side of the couch to his face, coughing the rice out violently.
“Oh fuck,” Bakugou gasps out in between peals of laughter, “he got the mayo banana. Fuck me, he got the worst fucking one.”
Kirishima’s gargling some water while the words Mayo-banana swirl around Ojiro’s head. Kaminari takes one look at him and giggles.
“We’re playing onigiri roulette,” Sero finally explains.
He points at the plate of food. “Before we started, we filled a bunch of rice balls with the weirdest fillings we could think of. The only rule is that it has to be edible-“ “BARELY edible” “- yeah, well, if you need recovery girl at the end of this, you’ve probably gone too far. So, we play each other one-on-one, and the winner plays the next person while the loser eats an onigiri and sits out till everyone else has had a go.”
“So,” Ojiro says, his mind still stuck on what he just heard Bakugou say, “Kiri just ate a rice ball filled with mayonnaise and banana?”
Ashido giggles at that, and Kaminari turns to the redhead and asks, “How was it?”
Kirishima takes another generous sip of water before saying, “The texture is what screwed me. It was just, god, it was mush and then more mush, and so slimy, and then the rice-“
“Ok,” Kaminari squeaks, throwing his hands up in surrender, “That’s enough, thanks man!”
“You wanna join?” Ashido beams at Ojiro, offering him her controller.
“I’m good watching,” Ojiro says, scooting back subtly. Sero sniggers and makes room for Ashido to join him on the floor.
“You’re going down,” he taunts, and Ashido burns a small hole in the sleeve of his shirt before they start up the next game.
Pinky puts up a good fight, but Sero is a master at the game, and even with her well-timed kicks at his face, Ashido loses, and Bakugou is positively glowing.
Ashido picks another unassuming looking onigiri and takes a bite. She looks so confused for a moment before her face scrunches up in agony. She perseveres though, and even as Kaminari cries from how hard he’s laughing and Sero is recording the whole thing with shaky hands, Ashido flips them the bird and makes it a point to swallow thickly.
Kirishima leans in and takes a sniff, his own nose wrinkling as he asks, “Toothpaste?”
Bakugou laughs again, an ugly, grating sound that’s so unlike the boyish smile on his face. Ashido sticks her tongue out at the rest and says, “I happen to love mint, so joke’s on you.” She still slam dunks the rest of the onigiri in the spit bucket.
The next to go against Sero is Bakugou, who sits beside him heavily and snatches the offered controller. Gone is his carefree smile and ugly laugh, and in its place is his usual fierce competitiveness, except the stakes are so much higher than they’ve ever been in hero training.
The game is nail biting, to say the least. Bakugou doesn’t yell while he’s playing, and his concentration is so intense, it almost seems like he’s being sucked into the game. Even Ojiro finds himself cheering and yelling as the two desperately try to beat each other while trying to stay on the track in the first place.
When Sero wins by a margin that’s thinner than a strand of hair, Kirishima, in what can only be described as a move perfected after many recurring experiences, grabs the controller from Bakugou and hardens himself against the tiny explosions in the blonde’s palms, saving the controller. Bakugou lunges at Sero, a litany of curses tearing themselves out his throat. Sero has the biggest shit eating grin on his face, and Kirishima can barely hold Bakugou back as he shakes with laughter of his own. The blonde ends up with his back to Kirishima’s chest as he huffs something about assholes that cheat and the redhead gives him a pat on the shoulder before picking up the plate and offering it to Bakugou.
The blonde makes it a point to inspect each rice ball carefully before picking one up and giving it a sniff. He wrinkles his nose and finally takes a big bite, because he might be a sore loser but Bakugou is no coward.
He chews through his bite quietly and swallows, expressionless. And then he smiles, a wicked, horrible turn of his lips.
“Ha, assholes, I fucking win.” He turns the bitten side of the rice ball to face the group, and out pours a stream of red liquid.
Hot sauce, Ojiro notes just as the spice hits him in the eyes with enough force to warrant immediate tears.
“Yeah man, what the hell?” Sero says, sitting back on his elbows to get away from it. They all watch in horror as Bakugou takes another bite and smirks. Ojiro can see the sweat dotting his brow and they don’t miss how he rubs his nose with his clean hand, but all in all, hot sauce for Bakugou feels unfair, especially after the diabolical mayo and banana monstrosity.
“Man, how does he win even when he loses?” Kirishima whines, butting Bakugou’s shoulder with his head. The blonde sniggers again and sits back comfortably just as Kirishima tosses the controller to Kaminari.
Ojiro watches them takes turns and suffer. Kaminari, by some turn of fate, beats Sero in a game that just refuses to go in Sero’s favor. Sero ends up choking down a rice ball stuffed with a slimy squid and peanut butter mixture.
When Kaminari loses to Ashido, he happily eats a rice ball soaked in malic acid because his taste buds are immune to sour apparently. Ashido nearly throws up when she has to bite into a rice ball filled with jello and meat chunks after losing to Bakugou, and Bakugou turns an alarming shade of green when he eats one with durian and mustard. Kirishima had watched that one unfold in a mix of horror and fascination, torn between laughing and holding the spit bucket out for the blonde.
Midway through, Ojiro finds himself playing with them and he has to experience the hell that is jelly beans with cheese sauce and another onigiri that is filled with nothing but wasabi. So much wasabi that he feels fumes of heat trying to escape his nose as his eyes water for the rest of the evening.
When they finally call it a day, Ojiro somehow finds himself promising them that he’ll join the next time too, and he watches Bakugou stalk away, brainstorming more terrible food combos under his breath. He laughs and heads to his own room, nose still tingling from the wasabi, his own thoughts clouded with the worst foods he can think of. That’s when inspiration strikes.
Ojiro pulls his phone out and dials a number he’s known since forever. She picks up after 2 rings.
“What’s up kiddo?”
“Hey mom.” Ojiro’s smile turns wicked. “Talk to me about your pregnancy cravings.”
Jirou doesn’t normally intrude on whatever the class gets up to in their free time, but when she sees a small group standing off to one side of the common room staring intensely at the couch, she’s intrigued, which usually isn’t a great idea but it’s Saturday afternoon and she has a grand total of zero plans for the day.
So yeah, screw it.
Tokoyami looks over his shoulder and gives her a curt nod. “We are observing one Shinsou Hitoshi.”
“Ohhkay, why though?”
Kirishima leans back and whispers, “He hasn’t looked up from his phone in the last three hours.”
Jirou quirks a brow, “Not even once?”
“Nope.”
“And you’ve all been watching him this whole time?”
“Not the whole time, but every one of us that’s been in and out for the last few hours has seen him glued to it. He hasn’t even moved; we checked to see if he’s breathing.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah, he is,” Midoriya confirms quietly. “I don’t know how he does it though. It’s like he’s playing a one-man game of statue.”
“Hmm.” Jirou holds her chin in her fingers. “Have you guys tried talking to him or something, instead of, I dunno, just standing here and staring?”
“Watch,” Ashido says as she bounds up to the purple-haired boy.
“Hey Shinsou.”
Shinsou hums softly, “Sup?”
“I really do believe the Earth is flat.”
“Freedom of speech, you do you.”
“I think cats are terrible.”
“You lead a sad life and I feel sorry for you.”
“Memes are like, the worst.”
“You’re fluent in meme.”
Ashido walks back to the group and shrugs, “He’s been like that for ages. Hasn’t looked up once.”
Jirou nods in amazement. She looks around at the group of people before smiling wickedly.
“Wanna make a bet?”
Everyone perks up at that, turning around to face one another and huddle together.
“Ok, what are the stakes?” Kaminari asks excitedly.
“First person to make Shinsou look up gets their pick of dessert from our trays for a week.”
Kirishima pipes in, “Also, we can take over their cleaning duties for the week!”
Everyone hums in agreement. Jirou looks around the group and says, “Who wants to go first?”
Predictably, Midoriya takes the first shaky step. Everyone watches with bated breath as the green-haired boy approaches the couch. They expect him to say something, maybe joke around or ask a plethora of quirk related questions, but instead, Midoriya, in total Midoriya-fashion, just walks up behind the couch and squats down –
- and then picks the entire couch up, Shinsou still perched on it comfortably.
He starts squatting him then, making it look effortless. Jirou shuts Kirishima’s dropped jaw as she watches Midoriya finish an entire 10 rep set before putting the couch down gently. She bursts out laughing when she notices that Shinsou lacks the decency to look even mildly surprised, and the only thing different is his grip on the couch armrest to keep him stable during the reps.
“I really thought that would work,” Midoriya says with a wobbly lower lip. Kirishima envelops him in a big hug and murmurs something along the lines of You’re so manly, and the games continue.
Jirou offers to go next and decides to plug in both her earphone jacks into the couch and amplify her vibrations, hoping to jar Shinsou off the couch or maybe even just vibrate him off of it.
10 seconds in, Shinsou sighs and sinks in deeper as he yells, “Ahh, massage chair.” Because that’s how harsh the vibrations are.
Kaminari wails, and Jirou takes one of her earphones out of the sofa and shocks him stupid.
When Jirou finally slinks back to the group, Tokoyami ruffles the feathers on his neck and says, “The darkness shall prove victorious.”
He slowly makes his way over and calls on Dark Shadow, the night creature slithering out and shrouding his body to create a menacing silhouette.
They’ll never know what Tokoyami’s plan had been because the minute he gets within a foot of Shinsou, the class 1a insomniac just angles his phone and switches his flashlight on, effectively reducing dark shadow to a completely weakened, measly version of itself.
Tokoyami does the walk of shame back to the group, head hung low.
“I have failed.”
Midoriya gives him a pat on the back while Kirishima gives Dark Shadow a hug as the night creature pouts about the purple meanie.
“You guys are amateurs,” Kaminari scoffs, cracking his knuckles obnoxiously. “Watch and learn children.”
The blonde gets maybe within 5 feet of the couch before Shinsou picks up a cushion and throws it right at Kaminari’s face, sending him toppling back. His aim is impeccable, and Jirou can barely breathe.
“Oh my god, that was amazing,” she wheezes, slapping Kirishima’s back, the redhead doubled over in laughter. “Please tell me someone recorded that.”
Midoriya throws her a thumbs up, his phone still pointed at the scene, and Jirou lapses into another fit of giggles. When they finally calm down, Kirishima takes a few deep breaths and slams his fists together in front of his chest.
“I’m gonna do it!”
The redhead barely takes a step forward when Shinsou whips his head up, eyes roving the crowd before suddenly settling on someone just behind the group. He staggers to his feet and walks towards them, and they part like the ocean as he makes a beeline towards Todoroki. Shinsou doesn’t say a word or anything- just barrels into the impassive teenager and gives him a bear hug that lasts all of two seconds before pulling back and whispering reverently, “Thank you.” He then proceeds to stalk right out the dorms.
Kirishima’s head whips between the dorm entrance and Todoroki before he bursts, “Wha- how- what just happened?”
Todoroki holds his own phone up and the screen is on his chat with Shinsou. The latest message is an image attachment from Todoroki and he opens it with a shrug and says, “He’s wanted it for a while, I just kept forgetting to send it.”
The picture is a little grainy and taken with shaking hands probably, but immediately the class knows what they’re looking at- a picture of Aizawa tangled up in his capture weapon, looking at Shinsou with the most unamused expression.
“Blackmail material,” Todoroki clarifies as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. He turns to walk away before looking over his shoulder and saying, “And I don’t want dessert, but extra cold soba would be lovely.”
Jirou rolls her eyes but she’s got an indulgent smile on her face, just as Kaminari races after Todoroki, begging for some blackmail material of his own.
First dates are notorious for being filled with awkward silences, tentative attempts at flirting and assessing the vibe, and trying to talk yourself into believing you did the right thing by going out in the first place instead of curling up on the couch with Netflix and a whole bottle of wine.
Bakugou learns that a first date with Kirishima is anything but boring.
Even though it's Bakugou that does the asking, it's Kirishima that does the planning.
“Please leave it to me?” he’d said on the phone, pleaded even. And Bakugou, being the weak, weak man that he is, says yes.
Kirishima tells him to dress comfortable and shows up promptly at 6:30 with a small bouquet of flowers and a big smile. They place the flowers in a vase halfway filled with water, and Kirishima gives Camie a side hug and laughs when the two blondes start bickering before dragging Bakugou out.
Bakugou expects a decently upscale restaurant, the kind where a reservation is suggested but not necessary. He expects the food to be predictable and ordinary, nothing bad but nothing memorable. And he expects them to fight over the bill, which he’ll win obviously, before walking back home. And he’s ok with all that because it’s Kirishima, sunshine Kirishima with a smile that brightens even the worst of Bakugou’s days and Kirishima, who possesses a genuineness that makes the blonde trust him explicitly.
Yeah, Kirishima somehow manages to plan the perfect thing, and Bakugou is both surprised and not surprised.
“We’re here,” the redhead beams, pointing to a nondescript food truck. There's a chalkboard outisde that has a few items scribbled down, and there’s a cooler with beers placed on the pavement.
Bakugou’s face must’ve been some mix of surprised and disarmed because Kirishima laughs loudly and tosses a warm arm over his shoulders. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but this place has the BEST tacos I’ve ever eaten. I even know the chef.”
Bakugou watches as a woman pops her head out just then, giving Kirishima a fist bump and a warm smile which she then directs at Bakugou.
“You must be his explosive date!”
“HUH?”
“You heard me,” the chef smirks. She turns to Kirishima, “shall I whip up what we discussed?”
Kirishima gives her a thumbs up before steering Bakugou to the cooler.
“I would never order for you,” he rushes to say, pulling out two beers and handing one to Bakugou. “I just discussed some options with Kendo and she promised to customize one of the tacos. Man,” Kirishima twists the cap off his beer and clinks the bottle against Bakugou’s before continuing, “I really hope you like it!”
The thought of Kirishima customizing food for him makes his stomach twist in the nicest, grossest way, and Bakugou hides his blush under his drink, taking a generous gulp. It’s ice-cold and refreshingly bitter, and he feels his shoulders loosen easily.
“Order up,” Kendo says, pushing three plates of food to the centre. Kirishima moves to take the tray while Bakugou pulls out his wallet.
“Oh, don’t bother,” Kirishima sings, walking towards one of the tables set up on the lawn, “I already paid for everything in advance. I also banned her from taking any of your money.”
Kendo gives Bakugou a helpless shrug and a smug wink, and he bares his teeth at her before walking away, resisting the urge to flip her the bird when he hears her laugh behind him.
“Here you go,” Kirishima says, pushing a plate with 3 tacos in his direction. He places another plate with nachos in between them before pulling a different plate of tacos towards himself. He takes another drink of his beer before beaming, “I hope you like it!”
Bakugou squeezes a lemon wedge over one of them before diving in to take a bite and when the flavours hit his tongue, his eyes widen immediately, whipping back to Kirishima. The redhead is watching him with bated breath, his own food midway to his mouth, completely forgotten.
Bakugou chews slowly, savouring every last bite, and resists the urge to moan pornographically.
“What the fuck is this?” he whispers reverently, staring at the taco as if it’ll answer back.
“Do you like it?”
“Of course I fucking do, what the fuck even is this?”
Kirishima laughs at that, positively ecstatic.
“I’m so happy!” he beams, taking a monstrous bite of his own food, chewing and swallowing at record speed. “I told Kendo about your love for spice and fresh produce, and she took it as this challenge to make you something that was hella spicy but also hella flavorful. She said something about balancing spice and veggies and meat.”
Bakugou nods before digging in again, and in minutes the two of them have cleared up all the food, laughing in between bites, legs pressed firmly underneath the table. Bakugou distantly notes that they’re in a park, and the bench overlooks a lake that glitters in the fading twilight. The sky is purplish pink and Kirishima’s skin glows warmly, and all he wants to do is kiss this hunk of a man stupid, Mexican hot sauce coating his lips be damned.
After throwing the wrappers away, they get up and head back to the truck to thank Kendo before heading out to the next thing Kirishima has planned for them. Bakugou usually hates surprises, but this was honestly one of the best meals he’s ever had, so he finds himself eager for more.
“Oh, before you guys go,” Kendo says, leaving the counter for a moment before returning with something clutched in her hands, “take this. On the house.”
It turns out to be churros, freshly made and coated in sugar, with a dark chocolate dipping sauce. Kirishima smiles bashfully, “You really don’t need to.”
“Shut up, you guys are so grossly cute, I kinda had to.” Kendo gives Bakugou a wry grin. “Nice meeting you. I see you liked the food.”
“… yeah, it was alright.”
Kendo’s smile widens, and Kirishima gives her another fist bump before they head out.
“So, what next? And have you paid in advance again, shitty hair?”
Kirishima laughs his deep, boisterous laugh as he laces his fingers with Bakugou’s. “Maaaaaybe,” he says cheekily, giving the blonde’s hand a firm squeeze. Bakugou throws him an unimpressed look before giving up for the moment, and they talk about Ruby’s next vet appointment, Bakugou’s latest client nightmare story and Kaminari’s never-ending search for true love on Omegle because he’s a masochist and an idiot, all wrapped in one adorable package. The churros disappear fast enough, and Bakugou does his best to not stare as Kirishima licks chocolate sauce off his fingers.
He fails miserably.
When Kirishima finally pulls them to a stop in front of a place called Axe Factor, Bakugou shoots him a confused look.
“What?”
“Axe throwing.”
“Axe throwing?”
“Axe throwing.”
For a second, for a split second, Bakugou thinks they’re about to throw body spray at each other before the other, more literal meaning of the word springs to mind. When it all clicks, which it does in a split second, Bakugou’s eyes go big.
“WAIT, AXE THROWING?”
“Hell yeah!”
Bakugou’s seen some videos, and he’s always wanted to try it but never found the time or opportunity or whatever. He gives Kirishima a look that’s somewhere between disbelief and amazement.
First dates aren’t supposed to be this perfect.
“Is it ok?” Kirishima asks, his voice hesitant. He takes Bakugou’s silence as disapproval. “We don’t have to go, I just thought you might-“
“If I don’t throw an axe at a piece of wood and stick it in the centre by the end of the night, I will be pissed,” Bakugou declares solemnly before squeezing Kirishima’s hand, “I was just thinking that you might be the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”
Bakugou has the pleasure of watching Kirishima, in all his 6’4” inch built-like-a-wall glory, go the loveliest shade of pink before his own words catch up to him and he blushes right along. Kirishima laughs and pulls him into his side, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.
“Let’s go!”
By the end of the evening, Bakugou finds himself in front of his door, belly full, shoulders aching pleasantly, face pulled into a smile that refuses to go away.
Kirishima finishes up a story about why you shouldn’t make Jaeger bombs in your mouth when you run out of clean shot glasses that has Bakugou smirking and giggling along before he uses their entwined hands to yank the redhead closer.
“I think it’s not an exaggeration to say that that was the most perfect fucking first date on the planet.”
Kirishima’s eyes go soft and his smile stretches all the way across his face, and fuck, Bakugou wants to kiss him so so much.
“You uh,” Bakugou starts, squeezing Kirishima’s hand to ground himself, “you wanna come in for some coffee? Or some shit?”
Kirishima steps even closer, pushing Bakugou till his back meets his front door. He crowds the blonde, his other hand gently tilting Bakugou’s chin up till they’re looking into each other’s eyes.
“Hey Kats, can I kiss you?”
Bakugou doesn’t trust his voice at all, so he just nods frantically, hoping the death grip he has on Kirishima’s hand will convey just how badly he wants to be kissed.
The last thing he sees is Kirishima’s pupils dilate before lips – soft, warm, pliant – are pressed against his own, and his body moves on instinct.
His fingers slip out of Kirishima’s as he runs both hands up the redhead’s arms, shivering at the feel of pure muscle beneath a soft cotton tee shirt. He finally settles them around the taller man’s neck, pulling him as humanely close as possible and pushing deeper and deeper into the kiss, practically melting against him.
Kirishima’s hands are on the blonde’s hips, his thumbs hooked into the belt hoops of Bakugou’s jeans, and he pulls him closer still before slowly tracing the curve of his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue in a languid, sensual stroke.
Bakugou can’t help his gasp, can’t help the way his fingers twist into soft, red hair as he guides Kirishima’s face to slot their lips together. There’s firm pressure, the taste of chocolate and beer, and the feeling of a thigh, stupidly thick and oh-so-firm, slipping between his own and Bakugou makes this whimpering sound that he refuses to acknowledge is his.
Kirishima moves his right hand to the small of Bakugou’s back just as Bakugou grinds down on his thigh and they both groan, enjoying the wet heat of their mouths pulling apart and coming together over and over, each angle a bit different, a bit deeper, the pressure maddening. Bakugou’s mind draws a blank as he tries to remember that they’re in a public hallway in his building, that he should invite him in, that he should be mindful of his ribs, that it isn’t first date etiquette to sit on a man’s face.
But also, Bakugou doesn’t give a flying fuck about any kind of social etiquette so he yanks himself away by sheer willpower and pants out, “Get inside. Now.”
Kirishima licks his lips, and Bakugou’s eyes track every movement with a hawk-like intensity, drinking it all in. The redhead smiles slowly, a wicked upturn of plush, kiss swollen lips, and Bakugou’s legs feel so damn weak.
“Not yet.”
“Huh?”
Kirishima leans in and gives him a sweet kiss.
“Kats, I had a phenomenal time tonight,” the redhead mumbles against his lips. Bakugou tastes his smile, his eyes sliding shut as he just absorbs all the sensations and the smell of Kirishima’s cologne and the heat of his exceedingly warm body.
Kirishima finally takes a full step away, and Bakugou feels the loss on a molecular level.
“I’ll see you soon yeah?”
And with that Kirishima is gone, leaving a half-hard, fully pissed, thoroughly bewildered blonde behind.
“What the fuck?”
Their second date is at an arcade. Bakugou decimates Kirishima at the shooting games, Kirishima wipes the floor with Bakugou in the driving games, and they both suck at Dance Dance Revolution.
They eat at a lovely Thai place tucked into a sleepy corner of the city, the food spicy and the atmosphere cosy. Conversation flows easy, with comfortable silences peppered in but those are rare because Kirishima rarely stops talking, and Bakugou is amazed by how much he likes hearing him chatter away, how much he enjoys his stories and finds himself offering up his own anecdotes.
They end the night with Kirishima walking Bakugou home again, and the blonde takes it upon himself to pin the redhead to the wall right outside his apartment and tongue-fuck him at 10:15 pm on a Thursday.
“Fuck,” Kirishima pants as they pull apart, a string of saliva stretching between them. Bakugou licks it away before smirking and diving in for another kiss, intent on eating the man whole.
And somehow, somehow, even when Bakugou lets himself believe he’s going to wake up the next day sore in all the right ways and tangled in his sheets with a hunky redhead, Kirishima gently pushes him away, gives him another turn-your-legs-into-jelly kinda kiss, a wide toothy grin and saunters – saunters- out the building.
“Blue balls boo?”
Bakugou hurls himself onto the couch and growls, “Fuck off Cam.” He takes the beer she offers him anyway and drains it, turning to face the TV screen.
“Chef’s table?”
“Yeah, the cut shots are totes amazing,” Camie hums, digging her spoon back into the tub of ice cream.
Bakugou grunts in agreement and they finish the rest of the episode together, the ice cream tub switching hands the whole time.
“You wanna talk about it?” Camie asks, her eyes still on the tv.
Bakugou huffs and keeps his eyes on the tv too, watching the end credits roll.
“I don’t know why he kisses me like that and then just stops. It’s fucking infuriating.”
“Like what fam?”
“Like he’s going to fuck the soul out of me.”
Camie laughs at that and bumps his shoulder. “With a body like that? I’m sure he won’t disappoint.”
“Yeah, so why isn’t he fucking here?” Bakugou grumbles, sinking lower into the couch.
“Well, I’m no relationship expert,” Camie says as she stands up, “but I’d say the best person to ask would be him boo.”
“I hate you.”
She blows him a kiss over her shoulder and walks to her room, and Bakugou just sinks lower into the couch, with no intention of leaving the too soft cushions that have moulded around the shape of his ass. When his phone buzzes, he almost throws it against the wall before he catches sight of the contact name.
Ei
u, Bakugou Katsuki, are something else
Ei
tonight was incredible <3 <3 <3
Ei
can’t wait for the next 1
Bakugou feels the anger seep out of him, replaced by this warmth that soaks his insides like honey in the sun. He feels himself blushing because this redhead makes him feel so stupidly loved and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Bakugou
im the best at everything
Ei
you got that right
Bakugou
ugh
Bakugou
when am I seeing you next?
Ei
this Saturday?
Bakugou
that’s in 2 days
Bakugou
miss me already? Lol, weak.
Ei
always miss u Kats
Bakugou
ugh
Bakugou
I hate u
Ei
<3 <3
Bakugou
<3
“I think I’m gonna die.”
Kaminari swats Kirishima as he walks by him. “You’re being dramatic Eiji.” He snickers, “And that’s coming from me.”
Kirishima rolls his eyes but breaks into a small smile. He goes back to wiping down the rest of the whiskey glasses, his thoughts drifting back to bright red eyes and soft blonde hair and those arms goddamn-
“Kiri?”
“Yeah, Mina?”
“You know he likes you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’re nuts about him.”
“Um-“
“More like whipped-“
“Shut up Denks- As I was saying, you’re nuts about him. And there’s like, zero lack of chemistry between ya’ll.”
“Um-“
“So why are you causing your OWN pain and holding back so damn much?”
“It’s only been 2 dates-“
“2 dates and over half a year of you guys hanging out and getting to know each other and lacking all nuances of subtlety as you pined over one another. Like, if you open the dictionary and look up Gay disaster, it’s a picture of the two of you and it says pick either.”
“Haha, you’re hilarious-“
“Seriously Kiri, what’s up? Is there something bothering you or something?”
Kirishima finishes up with the last glass before breathing out in a whoosh, “There’s no problem at all, just- I’m crazy about him.”
“We know.”
“And like, I want him to know that. I want him to know that I have no intention of just sleeping with him or something. I want to wine and dine him, I want to make him laugh, I want to watch him cuddle Ruby on my couch and just-“
“Damn, you’re whipped whipped.”
“I know,” Kirishima agrees, laying his head down on the counter. “I know, god, he’s amazing. So smart and quick-witted, and he’s so funny and interesting and strong, and he’s freaking hot as hell.”
“Get a grip man,” Kaminari jokes, shoving at him. “We get it, you hit the jackpot. I personally don’t see it, but I get it.”
“Shut up Kami, I know how much you text him and that you guys even have a whole game night schtick.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Anyway, I was talking to mama about all this, and did you know her situation was super similar to my own?”
“Oh?” Ashido hops onto the counter and rests her chin on her hand. “Do tell.”
Kirishima laughs. “Yeah, she said she knew mom for about 8 months, and she was absolutely nuts about her too, and apparently mom was the one who finally asked her out. And she said she took her on 5ish dates before finally taking the next step because mama wanted her to know that she really liked her.” Kirishima’s voice goes immeasurably soft at the end. “Mama said she knew mom was it. She just wanted mom to know that too.”
“Awwww,” Ashido coos, “that’s so cute Kiri. I get it though- it’s been a long time, but you’re quite the romantic! I think it’s sweet, even if you’re suffering.”
Kirishima groans again. “I want to be romantic and like, super loving, but Mina, he’s just too hot. I think I’m going to die.”
“We know,” the two chorus.
Unbeknownst to them, Bakugou stands just shy of the back door to the bar, one of Satou’s delectable strawberry cupcakes in one hand, the other clamped over his face as he tries desperately to fight back the brilliant heat he knows has crawled up his neck, colouring his ears and cheeks the most endearing shade of crimson.
He beats a hasty retreat, texts Kirishima a quick Sorry, caught up with work, catch up later before rushing home to scream into a pillow.
Love is a strange, beautiful, frighteningly amazing thing.
Kats <3
oye
Kats <3
im planning date 3
Kirishima
wait y????
Kirishima
I thought we had a nice alternating thing goin on
Kirishima
its my turn :D :D :D
Kats <3
shitty hair
Kats <3
just lemme do this one ok?
Kats <3
I promise it’ll be fun
Kirishima
u know I never doubted that
Kats <3
good
Kats <3
see you tomorrow?
Kirishima
you know it <3 <3 <3
“Damn, this is so much fun!”
Bakugou brings Kirishima indoor rock climbing, and after matching him with the right shoes (Bakugou has his own), explaining the very basics of bouldering, and laughing at Kirishima’s agonized face as he gets used to his shoes, they spend a good 3 hours just climbing routes. They have the whole place to themselves, and Bakugou likes this gym because it has some well-thought-out paths and tolerable music.
Kirishima is a natural, picking up the rhythm of bouldering easily enough. He moves intuitively and is a little rough around the edges, but his sheer forearm strength gets him through many of the more advanced sets.
“You’re pretty good for a first-timer, shitty hair.”
Kirishima throws him an easy smile, “High praise, Katsuki, you feeling alright?”
Bakugou throws a handful of chalk at him, earning him a belly-deep laugh.
“It gets even better the more you do it,” Bakugou says, offering Kirishima his water bottle. He watches the redhead twist the cap off to take a long sip, offering Bakugou a view of his entire throat, thick and wholly unmarked. A true shame.
Bakugou smirks and says, “You know, it’s a lot like sex.”
He laughs loudly as Kirishima chokes on the water, coughing and thumping his chest before turning a brightly coloured face to Bakugou.
“You did that on purpose,” Kirishima accuses.
“Obviously.”
“Mean,” Kirishima mumbles, closing the bottle and keeping it away before crawling over to the blonde. “Why're you so mean to me?”
“I’m not mean, I’m fucking frustrated. I’m dating this absolute hunk of a man that’s so sweet and sassy and puts up with all my shit, and I keep wanting to climb him like a tree but I can’t.” Bakugou levels Kirishima with a gaze. “Does he not want me?”
Kirishima’s pupils dilate so fast it gives Bakugou whiplash, but he doesn’t let his stare waver.
“You’re too smart to think something as stupid as that,” the redhead rumbles, voice sinfully low and oozing sex.
Bakugou looks around to confirm that the gym is indeed empty before closing the gap between them and throwing a leg over Kirishima’s lap, straddling him. His hands curl into soft red hair as he jerks Kirishima’s face up.
“I heard you at the bar the other night, that stuff about your mothers.”
Kirishima looks confused for a moment before it all clicks, and Bakugou rushes to continue.
“I didn’t mean to, I just did. And here’s the thing- I know this isn’t casual. After everything we’ve been through, there’s no way this is even close to casual. Ei-“ Bakugou sucks in a deep breath. “Ei, I’m in this. For the long fucking haul. I’m absolutely fucking crazy about you- I think about you all the time, you drive me crazy, and I have never fucking felt this way before. It’s almost bad enough for those stupid Nicolas Sparks novels to make sense, so, fuck, I’m in. I’m all in.”
Kirishima’s looking at him like he’s the sun, and the blonde knows that the redhead is in too. For the good, the bad, and every little thing in between.
“So,” Bakugou murmurs, leaning in and lightly nipping Kirishima’s ear before whispering into it, “I think it’s best if we go back to mine, take a shower together, and then you let me take you to bed so I can ride you till the sun comes up. How’s that sound?”
Bakugou relishes in the shiver that follows his words, and his smile turns wicked when large, hot hands cover his hips, fingers splayed over his ass possessively. Kirishima yanks him closer, and Bakugou has to muffle a pleased moan into the redhead’s shoulder when their dicks grind together. They’re both hard, and the friction makes his mind go blank as his grip on Kirishima’s hair tightens.
Kirishima presses a hot kiss to Bakugou neck before pulling him back. His eyes dance over Bakugou’s face, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the cocky upturn of his lips, the black of his pupils.
“Hmm, I like your plan, but nah.”
Bakugou’s shocked expression is pretty funny, but Kirishima moves to continue before the blonde misunderstands.
“I’m taking you to mine. I live alone, so that means I can spread you out and ruin you on every surface of the house.”
Bakugou swears he sees glimpses of Nirvana and after pressing a searing kiss to Kirishima’s lips, he forces himself to stand.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Kirishima’s answering grin is wolfish, and he takes the offered hand easily.
They practically sprint to the changing rooms.
Bakugou is not a small man.
At 5’10”, made of lean, hard muscles and graced with stamina that has seen him through an ultra-marathon or two, Bakugou Katsuki is hella sturdy and has never felt small a day in his life.
But when Kirishima Eijirou pulls him into a mind-numbing kiss the minute they walk through his apartment before proceeding to pick him like he weighs absolutely nothing, Bakugou feels small in the best way possible.
With his legs wrapped around the redhead’s waist, Bakugou kisses up his throat and bites down, marking it with fervour, finally fulfilling a desire that’s been clawing at him for actual months. Kirishima’s hum of approval spurs him on, so he bites over and over, careful not to break skin but hard enough to leave angry purple bruises in his wake, an inky path on warm tan skin.
Kirishima makes it through his bedroom door and walks them to the bathroom. He places Bakugou on the edge of the sink and leans back, just drinking the blonde in.
“Fuck Katsuki, you drive me insane.”
Bakugou smirks, bucking his hips up in search of some much-needed friction. “Good. Now get your clothes off dammit.”
Kirishima’s laugh bounces off the walls as he strips off his socks, shirt and shorts quickly. His briefs are a tight, sinful thing and do a very poor job of hiding his prominent bulge, and Bakugou swallows audibly. He figured he was in for a challenge with a man this big, but the proof in front of him makes his mouth water for all kinds of reasons.
The redhead leaves his underwear on as he moves forward and kisses Bakugou deeply, tilting his face and licking into his mouth, his tongue gentle and exploratory. Bakugou turns into putty from the heat of it, and when Kirishima leans back again, Bakugou chases.
Kirishima ducks down to kiss the sensitive junction between Bakugou’s neck and shoulder, nipping lightly. Bakugou shudders and then becomes aware of fingers gently brushing the sides of his hips. He looks down to see Kirishima’s hands curled into his shirt and quickly raises his arms over his head in silent permission.
Kirishima slips the blonde’s shirt off before sinking to his knees, kissing the inside of each of Bakugou’s thighs reverently before gently peeling away his shorts. He pulls his socks off as well and kisses his way up Bakugou’s body, leaving one kiss on each of his calves, his shins and his knee caps before littering his inner thighs with nips and bruises. Bakugou’s breathing stutters as he drowns in the attention, his body hypersensitive to every press of Kirishima’s mouth on his body.
“Ei-“ he gasps, hands moving to grip the back of his head. Kirishima hums, moving up to kiss tantalizingly close to Bakugou’s dick before peppering kisses to his abdomen. He licks a strip up his sternum, and as his hands massage into Bakugou’s thighs, he finally pulls a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking with a firm pressure that makes Bakugou’s dick throb.
His nipples are a sensitive spot for him, and whatever Kirishima’s doing is really working.
“Ei, fuck, touch me.”
Kirishima lavishes his other nipple with attention before catching his eye. He hooks his thumbs into Bakugou’s underwear and asks, “May I?”
Bakugou nods and lifts his hips up, and Kirishima quickly rids him of his underwear.
It’s been a while since Bakugou last hooked up with someone. He’s never one to be shy or self-conscious, but the fact that it had been a while had made him a little nervous when Kirishima had first asked him out. He’d even asked Camie if it were possible to just forget how to have sex. She’s laughed at him, realized he was serious, and then laughed harder.
Bakugou had expected to feel nervous, or at least a bit awkward during their first time, no matter how badly he wanted it. But here, in Kirishima’s bathroom, sitting on his countertop with the redhead over him, looking at him with those eyes- molten, warm, and brimming with affection – Bakugou feels nothing but thick lust and unbridled affection.
He pulls Kirishima in for a kiss and tugs on the redhead’s underwear. Kirishima helps him pull them off and kicks them away dramatically, and Bakugou snorts, which makes Kirishima laugh, and suddenly they're giggling and exploring each other with feather-light touches and whispering praises into soft skin and hard muscle.
“Hey,” Kirishima says suddenly.
“Hi.” Bakugou’s too gooey right now to be an ass.
“Quick question.”
“What?”
“What’s your refractory period like?”
Bakugou pauses before saying, “Pretty fucking good I guess, why?”
Kirishima gives him one more of those wolfish grins, “Good to know.”
The blonde tries to ask what’s up when Kirishima suddenly turns and switches the shower on and Bakugou finds himself very distracted by the sight of a very tall, very naked man standing in front of him with a hip jutting out. Kirishima is tan all over, and his muscles flow like water when he moves. And his ass, holy fuck, Bakugou could wax (and has actually waxed) poetic about his ass to anyone that would care to listen.
Kirishima seems to find the perfect temperature before ushering Bakugou in, and the hot water immediately soothes his slightly sore arms. He groans at the sensation and enjoys the water pressure, distantly noting how roomy the shower cubicle is. Moments later, warm arms wrap around his body and Kirishima has him leaning into a firm chest and if Bakugou weren’t so horny, he might be at risk of falling asleep.
They soap up together and wash each other’s backs. There’s no conversations, just shared kisses that are slow and sensual in the foggy cubicle. Bakugou massages soap into Kirishima’s biceps and Kirishima worships his thighs, and they sigh and they groan and it’s wonderful.
When Bakugou’s washing the last of the soap off his back, Kirishima presses a kiss to his lips and proceeds to get on his knees, and before Bakugou can widen his eyes and muster up any kind of reaction, Kirishima takes his semi into his mouth and swallows him whole, his eyes holding Bakugou’s the entire time.
The blonde goes from a semi to raging fucking hard in a manner of nanoseconds, the heat and wet pressure immeasurably good. He even staggers a little and reaches out to lean into the glass of the cubicle, and Kirishima hums around his cock, presumably in laughter.
Bakugou narrows his eyes, but the effect is lost when Kirishima swallows around his dick and he finds himself scrambling to remember his own name because now there is only Kirishima, the love in his eyes and the skill of his mouth.
The redhead continues to swallow around him, alternating between bobbing his head and deepthroating, and his lack of a gag reflex would be impressive to Bakugou if he were even remotely capable of thinking. Which he isn’t, but he knows the redhead wouldn’t hold that against him.
Kirishima moves his right hand from the back of Bakugou’s thigh to cup his balls, massaging them lightly between his fingers. Bakugou shouts at that, stuffing his fist into his mouth to stop the other loud sounds. This seems to displease Kirishima because he pulls off the blonde’s cock and Bakugou has never wanted to cry more in his life.
“I want to hear you. Every sound.” Kirishima gestures to the walls with his eyes. “My place is pretty soundproof, so no excuses. Every sound Katsuki.”
Normally, Bakugou would say something obnoxious just to banter with Kirishima, but he has the redhead on his knees, one hand on his thigh, the other still rolling his balls, with Bakugou’s dick pressed into his cheek.
He has honestly never seen a more erotic view in his entire existence. Part of his brain just shuts down from the sheer hotness of it.
So instead of being his usual insufferable self, Bakugou recognizes the pros of agreeing and nods enthusiastically. Satisfied, Kirishima goes back to blowing him with renewed vigor, and in moments, he has Bakugou tethering on the edge, ready to come.
“Ei, Ei, you have to, get off, Ei- I can’t, I’m-“ He weakly pushes at Kirishima, but the redhead takes him even deeper and hums and his eyes bore into Bakugou’s. And the blonde just comes, hips jerking violently as he finishes down the redhead’s throat, his cries guttural as Kirishima continues to suck and lick him till he’s shaking.
“Fuck,” he says, vision a bit blurry. “Fucking shit.”
Kirishima stands to his full height and crowds Bakugou against the steam heated glass before kissing him, and it’s bitter and crass and everything that pushes Bakugou’s buttons in the best fucking ways. He kisses back enthusiastically, arms looping around Kirishima’s waist, holding him close.
“Was that ok?”
“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbles, pinching Kirishima’s hips. “I’m not giving you a fucking yelp review. Also, I came stupidly fast, so take a wild fucking guess.”
“Give yourself some credit,” Kirishima says generously before giving Bakugou another kiss. Bakugou returns it languidly, as if they have all the time in the world. After all, it’s only the beginning of the night.
“Do you need some time to clean up?”
Bakugou catches his drift and waves Kirishima out. “Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll help you with that.” He points at Kirishima’s stupidly large dick, standing proud and hard. Bakugou’s thighs shiver at just the idea of riding him, and he’s never been more excited for sex in his life.
“Ok,” Kirishima smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple before stepping out of the cubicle and drying off with one of the towels. Bakugou watches him wipe down his body efficiently before wrapping his lower half loosely and walking out.
He sighs and turns back to the detachable shower nozzle.
“Let’s get to fucking work.”
Kirishima has never been more turned on in his entire life.
It’s one thing to have a gorgeous boyfriend, in all his spiky blonde hair and ridiculously toned glory, but it’s another thing altogether to witness said boyfriend being taken apart in a steamy shower, watching his mouth drop, his eyes drop, his fingers weaving through Kirishima’s hair as he tries to set a pace but is too busy whimpering to do so.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Kirishima moves around the room to pull out lube and condoms and sets them on the pillow. He pulls out some clean towels as well, and then because he can, he brings in a scented candle and lights it. He also brings in the vase of flowers that Bakugou had thrust into his arms earlier that evening, consisting of a large bouquet of morning glories, and places them on a side table.
He keeps the dimmer lights on, bright enough to see everything, but subdued enough to keep up an atmosphere and he finally pulls out his speaker and plays a random sexy playlist on Spotify. It’s pure white noise because he does not want to miss a single sound that Bakugou makes.
Just as he puts up the finishing touches, the bathroom door opens and out comes Bakugou, chased by a cloud of steam. He looks like something out of a wet dream, literally and otherwise, and Kirishima fights the strong urge to get on his knees and pray to something because how the fuck else did he get this damn lucky?
“Ei, what the fuck is this?”
He only had 10 minutes, but the entire look of the room is transformed, and Kirishima offers him a shy smile as he makes his way over. “I had a moment to myself, so I thought I’d, you know, set the mood or something.”
“Set the mood,” Bakugou repeats, ducking his head. For one terrible moment, Kirishima thinks he might be fighting back laughter or disgust, but when the blonde lifts his head again, his face is bright red, and it doesn’t seem to be from the shower.
An embarrassed Bakugou Kirishima will wholeheartedly and gladly accept.
“I hope that’s ok,” Kirishima croons before kissing Bakugou again, undoing the towel around the blonde’s waist and dropping it to the floor before doing the same with his own.
“You’re such a fucking sap,” Bakugou mumbles against his lips, but Kirishima tastes his smile and he falls a little more in love.
He takes Bakugou to the bed, lips never leaving his skin. He pushes the blonde onto the bed and lays over him, and he jerks in surprise when Bakugou’s fingers encircle his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, the much-desired pressure sending waves of pleasure down the entire length of his body. Bakugou’s smile is somewhere between sensual and downright sinful, and Kirishima has to remind himself of The Plan so he doesn’t absolutely lose it.
“Later,” he whispers against Bakugou’s neck as he pulls the blonde’s hand off his dick. He sits up gently and chuckles at the scandalized look on Bakugou’s face.
“You sucked my soul outta my dick, what the fuck do you mean lat- FUCK!”
Kirishima flips him onto his stomach and hitches his body further up the bed so he’s entirely on there before dipping down to cover the entire back of his body with his own.
“Is that ok?”
Bakugou turns his head to the side, “You mean, is you manhandling me ok? Then fuck yes, it’s so damn hot.”
Kirishima huffs out a laugh at that and slowly kisses down Bakugou’s body, starting at his ears, his throat, and then licking down the column of his spine. He bites into the meat of his shoulders, kisses each of his wings, licks into the dimples of his back before finally biting each of his ass cheeks.
“Eijirou, are you seriously-“
Kirishima answers by pulling his cheeks apart and licking once, from his perineum all the way to the top of his crack, and Bakugou’s moan is pornographic.
“How the fuck are you real,” the blonde slurs, his hips undulating beneath Kirishima. “You’re fucking perfect.”
Kirishima smacks his ass once, settles comfortably on his own stomach and dives right in. He holds Bakugou’s cheeks apart and licks teasingly at the rim and he feels the muscles relax and go soft and pliant. He dips his tongue in every now and then and sometimes pulls back to kiss Bakugou’s hole before sucking hard.
Bakugou writhes beneath him, his hips grinding into the sheets as he rubs his already hard dick against them. Kirishima moves lower and pulls a ball into his mouth and play with it and Bakugou screams.
“Fucking hell-“
Kirishima doesn’t let up. He plays with his balls before going back to his hole and plunges his tongue in, fucking it in and out roughly and Bakugou takes it, bucking his hips back to set a rhythm.
“Shit, Ei, Ei I want to come, please let me come, fuck, I need t-“
Bakugou smacks his ass before pushing his tongue as deep as possible, his spit dribbling down and pooling on the bed. His fingers move down to massage Bakugou’s balls and the blonde keens, back arching magnificently.
“I’m there, I’m close, fuck-“
Kirishima amps up the rhythm and in moments he feels Bakugou seize beneath him, hips jerking as he stutters through a second, more intense orgasm. His face is buried in a pillow but he’s loud enough for Kirishima to forgive the barrier.
Kirishima doesn’t stop though.
No, he keeps eating him out like he was born to do it. He keeps licking and sucking, keeps pushing his tongue in and out, circling the rim before dipping in to tease. Bakugou’s hole becomes immeasurably soft under all the attention and finally, Kirishima sits up, but not before placing a loving kiss on each butt cheek.
“I think I’m dead,” Bakugou grumbles. Kirishima chuckles at that, crawling over him to fetch the lube. He squeezes a generous amount on his fingers and starts to warm them.
“Can I get my fingers in or are you sensitive?”
“I can take it,” Bakugou grouses, though he looks a bit weary.
“We can tak-“
“It’s fucking fine.” Bakugou’s eyes drop down to Kirishima’s crotch. “I want that. Tonight.”
Kirishima groans, and when the lube feels warm enough, he gently slips his middle finger in with next to no trouble. Bakugou simply sighs at the intrusion, his body melting into the bed.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” Kirishima murmurs, watching his finger fuck in and out of Bakugou. The blonde answers by tightening around his fingers and pushing his hips back, silently asking for more.
A few moments later, Kirishima has a second finger in, and there’s still no resistance or complaints. He sees Bakugou’s hips jerk from the oversensitivity sometimes, but he calms down quickly enough and he starts fucking back onto those thick digits.
Kirishima watches his fingers a moment longer before leaning down and whispering, “Can I see you?”
Bakugou turns to the side and kisses him before nodding. Kirishima gently pulls his fingers out and lets Bakugou roll over before he pulls his knees back and Kirishima pushes in again, watching the blonde’s face contort at the intrusion and then immediately soothe.
“Feel ok?”
Bakugou grunts. “I feel like jelly. Fuck you.”
“You are.”
“You suc- ah, shit – you suck.”
“I did.” There’s a laugh in Kirishima’s voice.
Bakugou manages the weakest glare before he goes back to grinding down on Kirishima’s fingers. The redhead slowly feels around, scissoring his fingers gently before he starts searching for that little spot he knows he brushed a few moments ago.
When he presses into a slightly hard nub, Bakugou’s back arches clean off the bed, his toes curling.
“Fuck, Ei~” His voice makes Kirishima’s dick throb, and he answers by pushing another finger in. Bakugou is tight and hot as hell and so very malleable, and Kirishima has never felt crazier in his life.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes, his fingers pumping at an ever-increasing pace. “Katsuki, you’re so incredibly gorgeous, fuck, it’s amazing.”
Bakugou’s dick jerks at that, and Kirishima continues to fuck him with his fingers, lavishing him with praise and filthy words. He slips a fourth finger in at some point with more lube, because Kirishima knows he’s got girth on his side.
“Ei, fuck me, shit, I’m going to come.”
“Good. I’ll fuck you through the one after.”
Bakugou’s eyes snap open as he gapes at the redhead, “HUH? The one after?”
Kirishima shrugs, “Yeah, I can wait for that. You’re so close right?”
“Are you craz-“
Bakugou chokes on a gasp as Kirishima pushes into his prostate and starts thrusting, crawling over Bakugou to kiss up and down his throat. He meets the blonde’s lips in a frantic kiss before pulling back and whispering obscenities in his ear.
“You’re fucking perfect, fucking yourself on my fingers, let go for me Katsuki, come for me. Come on, come for me and I’ll put your perfect ass on my dick and you can ride me till the sun comes up, I promise. Come on Katsuki.”
There’s almost no warning before Bakugou shudders and tightens completely around Kirishima’s fingers, and he comes dry, just a few dribbles of comes leaking out the tip. His face contorts in pleasure as he continues to jerk in Kirishima’s arms, and the redhead sees him through it with whispered praise and fingers pressed to his prostate.
Bakugou rides his orgasm for a while and Kirishima watches his eyes focus again slowly. The blonde shakes his head and weakly smacks the redhead on the arm.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
Kirishima hums, “But would it be the worst way to go?”
“Fuck off,” Bakugou says, but he smiles and Kirishima can’t even breathe. He pulls his fingers out gently and reaches over Bakugou to grab a clean towel. He cleans the come off of Bakugou’s skin and pulls the blonde against his chest.
Kirishima presses a kiss to Bakugou’s temple, “Hey.”
“Mmhh.”
“Feeling good?”
“More jelly-like than fucking jello.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It’s fucking insane.”
Kirishima nuzzles his forehead before mumbling, “We can go to sleep now, you see-“
“Finish that sentence and I’ll kick your ass.”
Kirishima snaps his mouth shut and just holds Bakugou. They cycle through 2 and a half songs before the blonde sits up slowly, keeping a hand on Kirishima’s chest to pin him down.
“You clean?”
“Clean?”
“Sexually.”
“Oh,” Kirishima says and nods, “yeah, last got checked two months ago, haven’t slept with anyone since way before we met, and I get checked once every six months at least.”
Bakugou nods and says, “I’m clean too, got checked three weeks ago, haven’t fucked anyone in ages either. Here’s what’s going to happen-“ Bakugou reaches over and pulls the bottle of lube into his hands before popping the lid open “- I’m going to cover your stupid horse dick with lube-“ he drizzles the cold liquid on Kirishima’s semi and strokes it “- And then I’m going to sink down on it-“ Kirishima goes hard alarmingly fast “- and I’m going to ride you for as long as I’d like, and then you’re going to come all over my ass. Sound good?” Bakugou strokes him one more time before adding, “Shitty hair?”
Kirishima moans and bucks his hips up to chase the pressure before the question fully registers and he nods as hard as possible.
“Good, lay the fuck down.”
Kirishima gets comfortable on his back as Bakugou throws a leg over his hip before straddling him. He places his left hand on Kirishima’s abdomen, his right reaching out to hold Kirishima’s cock firmly. The redhead shivers under him, his senses filled with Bakugou- his scent, the smoothness of his skin, the tightness of his muscles, the heat radiating off his body, the callouses of his palms. He senses Bakugou everywhere and it’s driving him nuts.
The blonde finally lifts up on his knees and slowly pushes Kirishima inside, and they both groan in unison when the head pops in, thick and pulsing. Bakugou doesn’t move for a moment, just adjusts to the sheer girth of it. Kirishima fights every instinct in his body to thrust up into the warmest heat he has seemingly ever been enveloped in. His fingers find Bakugou’s waist and he digs in, grounding them both.
Bakugou takes his time sinking down. It isn’t pain as much as it is pressure and so much of it. He’s seen his fair share of dicks before, but he’s never taken one quite so big, so the stretch is new and a little uncomfortable. He glides down inch by inch, and when Bakugou bottoms out, a sigh gets punched out of him when he feels Kirishima in the back of his throat.
The stretch is intense, but post three orgasms, Bakugou is as relaxed and soft as can be. The over-sensitivity is making it all a touch too much, but the blonde isn’t one to back down, and when he sees the blissed-out look on Kirishima’s face, it makes it all worth it.
Bakugou leans down to kiss Kirishima for a solid minute as he gets used to him, his hands roaming over a firm, wide chest and thick arms. He feels Kirishima’s fingers trail up and down his back, and the touch is so warm and loving it makes his back arch.
The first rise and fall of his hips is shallow and tentative, but Bakugou slowly picks up the speed as he starts bouncing in Kirishima’s lap, lifting up more and more as the stretch opens him up and the pressure starts to even out with the pleasure. Kirishima keeps his hands on Bakugou’s hips and starts thrusting up lightly, matching his tempo and they find a rhythm that works and in moments, Bakugou is spewing a litany of curses as Kirishima thrusts in at these angles that has him gasping and choking. He feels every smooth ridge of Kirishima's cock like this, feels his heat and just how silky his cock feels against his walls.
Bakugou rides him for what feels like hours, his thighs burning from the effort of it but the blonde loves it- he loves looking down at Kirishima’s face and sweat-slick body, loves the way Kirishima bites his lip as he holds back, loves how Kirishima doesn’t treat him like he’s delicate but like he’s precious.
When his thighs start screaming at him, Bakugou finally leans down and presses his lips to Kirishima’s softly before murmuring, “Take what you need.”
It’s insane to Bakugou, how strong Kirishima is. One moment he’s on top of the redhead, impaled on his dick and grinding down on his lap, the next he’s on his back, each ass cheek in Kirishima’s hands, caged to the bed by a large, warm body. And Kirishima manages to stay inside him the entire time.
“Wha-“
Kirishima thrusts then, and Bakugou’s vision blacks out. When his brain comes back online, he finds the redhead gently rocking against him, his dick just missing Bakugou’s prostate.
“You ready?” Kirishima’s voice is 10 octaves lower than usual, and it makes Bakugou’s gut clench. He gives the redhead his cockiest smirk.
“You know I fucking am.”
And that’s all Kirishima needs to start fucking the soul outta him.
It’s loud and wet and the noise of skin slapping skin as Kirishima bottoms out over and over interweaves with whatever music is on. Bakugou’s breath gets punctured right out of his lungs, and he wraps his legs over Kirishima’s back, locking them in place as he angles his hips up and starts to meet the redhead thrust for thrust.
“I’m close,” Kirishima grits out suddenly, sweat running down his neck as he pushes up to look at Bakugou.
“Good,” Bakugou breathes. “Me too. You can come anywhere on me, just, fuck, that’s it, right there~”
Kirishima starts nailing his prostate as he pistons his hips at a pace that is frantic and unforgiving, and Bakugou continues to meet him halfway, his cries echoing around the room. Kirishima whispers Bakugou’s name into his throat over and over like a prayer and the blonde alternates between gripping Kirishima’s hair to angle his head for a kiss and leaving angry scratch marks down the length of his back.
After a particularly well-timed thrust, Bakugou comes, clamping down on Kirishima as his body shudders violently, sparks dancing over his eyelids. It’s mostly a dry orgasm, his cock leaking semen as he’s fucked right through it and he feels like every nerve of his is on fire and it's almost bordering an out of body experience. Right before the over-sensitivity becomes unbearable, Kirishima pulls out and pumps his cock once before finishing all over Bakugou’s chest and stomach, the blonde’s name on his lips.
They fall back on the bed in a heap, barely moving, breathing hard, legs tangled together. They don’t say a word for a good few songs, but the silence is wonderfully warm, and Kirishima’s arm around Bakugou’s waist makes him feel so grounded.
Eventually, the redhead sits up and retrieves the cloth to wipe them both down. Bakugou is almost fully asleep when Kirishima manages to feed him a full glass of water and gently get him under the covers. He loses consciousness to the feeling of a warm chest pressed to his back and strong arms holding him close.
Kirishima looks at the man in his embrace and his chest feels far too big.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He holds the blonde just a little closer and rests.
The morning after sex for the first time can be a strange experience.
The morning after life-changing, earthshattering, mindbending-ly good sex for the first time is also a strange experience, but a good strange.
Bakugou wakes up to find himself in the big spoon position, the back of Kirishima’s neck right next to his lips. So he presses a kiss there, is rewarded with an unconscious hum and feels himself smile.
He spends a few minutes just lying there and enjoying the soreness of his body. He hurts everywhere, which is a consequence of the climbing and the sex, and Bakugou loves it. Every pinch of discomfort from his ass is a reminder that he conquered what he deemed to be a stupidly large dick last night, and that deserves some high praise in his books.
When the need to pee becomes unbearable, Bakugou finally gets out of bed after pressing another few kisses into Kirishima’s hairline. He helps himself to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen to make coffee and some breakfast. He knows Kirishima’s place almost better than his own, so it feels routine almost to cook for the two of them.
Kirishima joins him right as he finishes up the bacon and eggs, and after dipping Bakugou and kissing the daylights out of him, Kirishima makes them both coffee and brings it to the living room. Bakugou follows him with the food and they sit down and enjoy the morning sun, the warm food, and Ruby weaving her way between their legs.
Bakugou’s nearly done with his share of scrambled eggs when he looks up and says, “For the record Ei, I’m falling in love with you too. Just thought I should fucking tell you. Or something.”
Kirishima finishes chewing his bite, swallows thickly and presses a greasy kiss to the side of Bakugou’s mouth before offering him a blinding grin and an Aww, Kats, you have feeeeeeelings for meee.
And love, Bakugou realizes, is scary and frightening and so very beautiful. Especially when it comes with a side of eggs, bacon, and freshly brewed coffee.
And especially when it includes Kirishima Eijirou, his heart that’s too big for his chest, and a smile that can defeat a thousand suns.
Aizawa’s voice, normally gruff and sleep-heavy, sounds sharp and worried. His eyebrows are pinched tight on his forehead, and his hands are folded across his chest with an iron grip, as if barely keeping himself together.
Ken looks at Aizawa and sighs. “He talks and he talks and he talks, but he’s not really saying anything.”
Aizawa purses his lips.
“I don’t think speaking to me will be the breaking point.” Ken laces his fingers together and stares at them as he continues, “But he will, indeed, break. As you did, as I did, as we all did. And when that happens, perhaps, being in the dorms will offer some semblance of comfort.”
Ken looks up and waits till Aizawa catches his eye. “I will be here when he needs me. Until then, I shall continue our sessions, even if he just keeps talking without saying anything.”
Aizawa nods curtly, mumbles out a goodbye and walks back to his accommodation.
---
A hero never forgets their first.
The work is dangerous. Most days are easy and mundane, and then there are days where the hits keep coming. People get hurt, heroes get hurt, and villains get away. You even lose people, in the crossfire or because you were too late, and those wounds never fully heal, the scars faded and jagged, moving with your every move, a constant reminder.
And then there are the days when you feel the Earth beneath you crumble as you watch a child die. When you lose someone young, innocent, with baby fat on their cheeks and wide toothless smiles. Kids with scrapped knees, stars in their eyes, and the softest hair. Kids like Eri.
A hero never forgets their first child.
Aizawa watches Kaminari speaking animatedly with his classmates, eyes bright and body language lax, and feels his fists clench.
He sucks in a deep breath, pushes away any thoughts of blue hair and big, loud smiles and continues his lesson.
---
It’s Bakugou that stays behind in class one day, two and a half weeks after the incident.
“Something’s fucking wrong with Sparky.”
“Language,” Aizawa says automatically, before lowering his books and looking at the blonde. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know, something is just. Since that day, he- Fuck, I don’t know.”
Aizawa lets this one go. “He’s been coming to class. He’s attended every therapy session with Cementoss. Lunch Rush tells me he’s eating well, and he seems-“
“His eyes-” Bakugou interrupts, nose scrunched in deep thought. “- his eyes are too bright. That’s not his usual, happy-go-lucky-idiot shine. They’re too bright.”
He stands up and pulls his bag over his shoulder. “His eyes feel artificial. He moves his body too much, every movement exaggerated, like he’s constantly compensating. Like he’s fucking pushing something down as hard as he can. And then, there are these moments-“ Bakugou stops just shy of the door. He looks over his shoulder but his eyes don’t seek Aizawa, instead glaring at the tiles near his feet.
“There are these moments when his eyes are vacant, like he’s not even in the same room as us.”
With that, Bakugou walks away and Aizawa finds himself thinking back to the past, the well-acquainted pain in his chest rising from slumber, squeezing till his heart feels like it’s about to break, shatter apart the way it did that day.
Because Aizawa and Hizashi grew up.
That day though, they lost Loud Cloud, who was nothing more than a kid. A young child, gone before he could ever learn just how terrible the world really is.
---
Kaminari attends class. He eats lunch with his friends, jokes around with them, trains every day, and sleeps in on the weekends. He never finishes his homework on time, calls his parents at least twice a week, and continues to go stupid when he overuses his quirk.
He also goes quiet more often, enough for Kirishima to pick up on it too. Bakugou watches Kaminari carefully, watches his eyes go vacant in the middle of movie night, watches him flinch when metal protests under the force of Midoriya’s quirk during training and watches his smiles get wider and more rigid, eyes so bright the fluorescent bulb in the common room dims in comparison.
There is nothing to do but wait.
---
It took Aizawa three months to break after Shirakumo.
Long after the cremation and the memorial and after the chatter picks back up in the hallways. He goes home one day, puts his bag on his desk and takes a seat, intent on finishing his homework. His pen is nowhere to be found so he yanks his desk drawer open-
Only to find a blue and white pen with the name Oboro etched into the body.
Aizawa thinks he hears a crack as his heart splinters and the tears begin, flowing freely. He bites into his forearm to keep from wailing, and he can’t see or breathe or feel anything past the wave of pain that drowns him.
With shaking hands and a complete lack of coherent thought, it takes him 14 minutes to type out a message to Hizashi. It takes the blonde another 8 minutes to get to his room, scoop him up and cry with him, and that wound never quite closes, always exposed, ever-present.
---
It finally happens on an average Wednesday, a month after the incident.
Aizawa’s just finished up with homeroom announcements, and as he straightens up the stack of papers on his desk, he hears Jirou.
“Kaminari, check out this mem- whoa, you ok, man?”
He looks at the blonde and startles when he sees the tears streaming down his face as he stares vacantly at his own hands.
Aizawa moves fast, because that’s what pros do- they calculate, they assess, they make split second decisions that spell life or death and everything in between.
He instinctually activates his quirk just as he whips his capture weapon out, pulling everyone around Kaminari away from him. Because he smells the static in the air, feels the prickles on his skin and he knows the boy is this close to losing complete and absolute control of his quirk.
Kaminari doesn’t acknowledge the chaos around him as people yell out in surprise and try to understand the situation. Aizawa keeps his eyes on Kaminari, and watches as Bakugou turns to Yaoyarozu and yells, “Make me some fucking insulated gloves now.”
Surprisingly though, it’s Shinsou that snatches the first pair and jumps across the desks to get to Kaminari, ducking down to his eye level, staying out of Aizawa’s line-of-sight.
“Hey, do you know where you are?”
Kaminari jerks at that, his eyes snapping over to Shinsou. They’re still vacant and hollow, lifeless. Shinsou keeps one glove on but leaves his other hand free.
“Kaminari, do you know where you are right now?”
Slowly, like he’s underwater, Kaminari swallows and shakes his head.
“Ok, that’s ok, take your time. I just want you to know you’re safe. Do you need anything right now?”
Kaminari looks around slowly, as if trying to understand what’s going on. He looks back at Shinsou and swallows thickly.
“There’s so much blood,” Kaminari says, and his voice sounds haunted. He bites his lip as a fresh pool of tears gather in his eyes.
“Get Cementoss,” Aizawa says to Shoji, his eyes still trained on Kaminari. They’re starting to feel a little dry and irritated, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Bakugou is also by Kaminari now, hovering behind him protectively, keeping the others away.
“I don’t understand,” Kaminari suddenly says, voice clear and colored with genuine confusion. “How does a kid just die?”
He laughs, a slightly hysterical sound, before his eyes, wide and far too bright, whip over to Aizawa.
“Sensei, there’s no way that kid died, yanno? She was so tiny, barely up to my hip. And so cute, with a lisp. There’s no way she’s dead. Obviously.” He knocks his own head, a hard hit that makes Kirishima flinch, and Bakugou gently holds his arms, to keep him from hurting himself. Kaminari barely notices.
“Kids don’t die,” Kaminari says, his eyes boring into Aizawa’s. “Right, Sensei? They don’t. How can they? They’re too tiny. Someone that small can’t die.”
Aizawa’s eyes sting, and he can say it’s his quirk but he feels it in his heart, a bone-deep ache that’s just second nature to him.
“Kaminari, nobody can live forever.” He clears his throat, slowly walking around the table as he approaches the boy, holding his gaze. “Nothing is forever, not even the- not even the children.”
Kaminari’s eyes go vacant again. “That can’t be true, you know? Cause that means she’s gone.” He looks at Shinsou. “Her hands fit in my palm Toshi. Her entire hand. I don’t. There was so much blood, I can’t- how?” He reduces to nothing but a blubbering mess, and finally, he slumps sideways, right into Bakugou’s abdomen before he wails, the sound of a deeply wounded animal permeating into the very walls of the room.
Shinsou keeps a grounding grip on his knee while Bakugou pushes a hand into his hair, holding him close to his stomach. His own face is scrunched up, eyes red and daring anyone to say anything, to him or Kaminari.
Bakugou goes with him when Cementoss comes. They take Kaminari to the therapy room and Bakugou stays the entire time.
Aizawa turns to face his class again, once the chairs are moved back in place and the shock of it all simmers down, leaving behind an empty cavity in the very middle of the room.
“You never forget your first,” Aizawa tells them, speaking from his soul. “You will never forget your first, and I want you all to promise me that when it happens, you find me. You find somebody. You seek help. And you keep pushing forward. So that someday- “
He clears his throat and pushes through, “So that someday, there won’t be a first anymore.”
He watches his students nod before they turn to each other, looking up ways to help someone in Kaminari’s condition, using their time together as a reference for what will help the most. And Aizawa feels hope and pride gently coat his heart, a band-aid atop a deep, bleeding gash, but it’s something.
He thinks about bright blue hair, a smile that put the sun to shame and the warmth of a gentle soul.
Kaminari: Hey, ya’ll have worked for some of the best heroes around, what’s the most badass moment you guys remember?
Kirishima: Oh, there was this one time Fatgum just jumped out the 21st floor of a building, redistributed his body fat and made a parachute out of himself while chasing some villains. It was insane.
Kaminari: Daaaaamn.
Tokoyami: I once witnessed Hawks take down an entire drug operation with only the use of his feathers. Not a soul was injured, for he took them down himself, all while eating fried chicken outside.
Kaminari: OH MY GOD. Absolute legend.
Midoriya: Gran Torino outraced a bullet train, saved it from derailing, and then promptly forgot what he did and yelled at a tree nearby for messing up his taiyaki.
Kaminari: He’s the boss man.
Sero: What about you Bakugou? You’ve worked with Best Jeanist and Endeavor, you must have some epic stories.
Bakugou (snorts): Fuck that. Jeanist and that Uwabami lady once teamed up for a hostage situation. Saw Creati make 2 fucking cannons, and midway through making the 3rd, this fucking badass stands up, says Excuse me, goes to the corner and throws up, makes a napkin and wipes her mouth and comes back to finish making 2 more cannons. Plus ammo.
Bakugou: She then proceeds to make steel support beams, accurately calculates the trajectory of the enemy attacks to minimise our injuries and then makes a bungee chord so we can execute a covert plan.
Bakugou: And after the mission, she asks if that was all, and then passes the fuck out. Second day of her period apparently.
Bakugou: And we’re the fucking interns.
Kaminari: ...... Well, fuck.
[Momo walks by, creates a mic in her palm and drops it, her other hand delicately holding up a cup of tea]
Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.
Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.
“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“
“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.
“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.
"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”
“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”
Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”
Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.
“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”
Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.
Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.
“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”
“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”
Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.
“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”
Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.
Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”
“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”
Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”
And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.
“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”
Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”
“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”
“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”
She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.
He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.
>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4
I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.
Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.
Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.
When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.
He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.
xxx-xxx-xxx4
omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:
xxx-xxx-xxx4
no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG
xxx-xxx-xxx4
ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me
At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.
Bakugou
you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.
The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.
xxx-xxx-xxx4
shit can you actually do that?
Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.
Bakugou
try me
xxx-xxx-xxx4
IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:
xxx-xxx-xxx4
and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(
xxx-xxx-xxx4
can I make it up to you somehow??
Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.
Bakugou
I don’t fucking know.
Bakugou
just stop giving out my no.
Bakugou
I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE
Bakugou
I will find you
xxx-xxx-xxx4
you don’t have to find me ill come to you
xxx-xxx-xxx4
cuz ill def deserve it at that point
xxx-xxx-xxx4
anyway, im sorry again. really ☹
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
goodnight
Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.
What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?
He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.
He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.
Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.
xxx-xxx-xxx4
heyyo!!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??
Bakugou
stop texting me, that’ll be a great start
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!
Bakugou
good for fucking you, leave me alone
xxx-xxx-xxx4
y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
just think abt it
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I gotta get back to work, talk soon!
Bakugou
stop texting me dammit
Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.
It is, predictably, not the end of things.
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I just realized I didn’t give u my name
xxx-xxx-xxx4
Kirishima eijirou!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
and you are?
Bakugou
blocking you
xxx-xxx-xxx4
aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹
xxx-xxx-xxx4
wait, r u a man?????
xxx-xxx-xxx4
PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG
Bakugou
can you calm the fuck down holy shit
Bakugou
yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass
xxx-xxx-xxx4
oh phew!!!!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
ok my dude
xxx-xxx-xxx4
please come down to the bar??????
xxx-xxx-xxx4
do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails
xxx-xxx-xxx4
and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes
xxx-xxx-xxx4
ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise
Bakugou
do you ever just stop talking
xxx-xxx-xxx4
NOPE :D
Bakugou
Not a compliment
xxx-xxx-xxx4
what can I say
xxx-xxx-xxx4
im an opportunist
Bakugou
you’re telling me
Bakugou
fucker
xxx-xxx-xxx4
IM STILL SO SORRY
xxx-xxx-xxx4
PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU
xxx-xxx-xxx4
actions speak hella louder than words
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I must action you
Bakugou
what the fuck
xxx-xxx-xxx4
you get what I mean!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
<location>
this is the place
xxx-xxx-xxx4
its name is RIOT, u cant miss it
xxx-xxx-xxx4
just lemme know when u can make it
Bakugou
I haven’t agreed to shit asshole
Bakugou
stop assuming things
xxx-xxx-xxx4
free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing
Bakugou
…………………
Bakugou
I’ll think about it
xxx-xxx-xxx4
HELL YEAH
xxx-xxx-xxx4
whats your name btw?
Bakugou
like id tell you
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I need it for the reservation!!!!
xxx-xxx-xxx4
so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks
Bakugou
didn’t say im coming yet
xxx-xxx-xxx4
im super optimistic
Bakugou
I can tell, you’re giving me a headache
xxx-xxx-xxx4
so………… name?
Bakugou
no
xxx-xxx-xxx4
I’ll get it out of you eventually
Bakugou
try me
Bakugou
fucker
If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.
“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.
“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.
“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”
“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”
Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”
“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”
He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.
“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”
“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”
“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”
“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”
“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”
“You’re the actual fucking worst.”
“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.
Bakugou hates everything.
“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”
Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”
Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”
bartender asshole
<image attached>
Bakugou
what the fuck
Bakugou
why are you sending me cat pics?
Bakugou
also that cat is stupidly cute
bartender asshole
I know right?????
bartender asshole
her name is ruby
bartender asshole
and id die for her
bartender asshole
i just figured ud be a cat person
Bakugou
………….
Bakugou
I hate u
bartender asshole
:D :D :D
Bakugou
ugh
Bakugou
Bakugou Katsuki
bartender asshole
:D :D :D :D :D
bartender asshole
HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME
Bakugou
I hate everything
bartender asshole
except ruby. Its not allowed
Bakugou
…………………………………
Bakugou
except ruby
bartender asshole
:D :D :D :D :D
Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.
Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.
He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.
There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.
Bakugou hates everything.
dumbass bartender
so what do you do???
Bakugou
front-end development and web design
dumbass bartender
oh damn!!!
dumbass bartender
so youre like smart smart
Bakugou
obviously
dumbass bartender
have I seen your work anywhere??
Bakugou
I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about
dumbass bartender
????????????????????
dumbass bartender
that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!
dumbass bartender
I just revisited the website, it looks so cool
Bakugou
duh
Bakugou
im the best
dumbass bartender
I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D
Bakugou
don’t you have work?
dumbass bartender
aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3
Bakugou
call me that again and I will fucking end you
dumbass bartender
before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D
Bakugou
I hate everything.
dumbass bartender
D:
Bakugou
except RUBY DAMMIT
dumbass bartender
:D
“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”
Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”
“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”
“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”
Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.
‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.
“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”
“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“
“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”
“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.
“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”
“That’s so random-“
“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”
“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.
“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.
Bakubro
just finished a massive project
Bakubro
could use a drink this weekend
Bakubro
know any good spots?
Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.
Kirishima
I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!
Kirishima
amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks
Kirishima
ive heard the bartender is a great guy too
Bakubro
way to toot your own fucking horn damn
Kirishima
:DDDDD
Kirishima
bt seriously
Kirishima
please? ???? ??
Kirishima
PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????
Bakubro
ugh
Bakubro
fine.
Bakubro
Friday night at 8
Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”
“Yeah?”
“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”
“Um, ok, why though?”
Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.
Bakubro
you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby
Kirishima
need to weaken your guard somehow
Kirishima
pls tell me it worked
Bakubro
ugh
Bakubro
ill be there
Bakubro
reserve a table for 4
Bakubro
your stupid bar better be worth it
Kirishima
I promise it will be!!!!
Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.
“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.
“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”
“What did he say?”
“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.
The three giggle.
“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”
“HEY!”
Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”
“HEY!”
They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.
Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.
Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.
“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.
“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”
“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.
“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”
“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.
That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.
“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.
“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.
He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.
dumbass
cant wait to see you!!!
dumbass
just ask for me at the bar
dumbass
or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D
Bakugou
I know dumbass
Bakugou
what, are you nervous or some shit?
dumbass
I mean, kinda????
dumbass
it’s our first time meeting afterall
dumbass
I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!
Bakugou
blonde wearing all black
dumbass
redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!
Bakugou
whatever
Bakugou
ill be there at 8
Dumbass
cant wait <33333
Bakugou
dumbass
Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.
Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.
His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.
Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.
She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.
“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.
“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”
“See ya!”
Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.
“Wha-“
“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”
Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.
They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.
Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.
“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.
Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”
“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.
They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.
“Can I help you?”
“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.
“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”
Bakugou’s ears burn at that.
“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.
“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”
Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.
“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.
“What the fuck?”
“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.
“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”
Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.
“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.
Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.
The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.
“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.
Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.
“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.
When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.
“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”
“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”
He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”
“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.
“You owe me 10 bucks.”
This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“
The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”
Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.
“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.
“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”
“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.
“Coming right up!”
He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.
“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.
“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”
The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.
When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.
“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.
“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”
Bakugou hates everything.
He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”
Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”
Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.
“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”
“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.
“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.
Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.
“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.
“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.
Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”
Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”
Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”
“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.
“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-
“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.
Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”
Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.
“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”
“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.
“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”
“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.
“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.
Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.
“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”
Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.
“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”
“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.
Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?
Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.
The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”
“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”
For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.
Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.
And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.
“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.
“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.
“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.
“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”
It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.
“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.
“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”
“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.
“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”
“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”
“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”
Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”
“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.
“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.
Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.
“And you Bakubro?”
“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”
“Lightweight,” Camie teases.
Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”
“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.
“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.
Bakugou. Hates. Everything.
“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.
Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”
Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.
Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.
When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”
Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.
Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.
Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“
“Ei, you better text him again.”
“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”
“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”
“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”
Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.
“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”
“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”
Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.
He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-
Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.
The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.
The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.
He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.
He expects none from Kirishima.
So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.
Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.
fuck he’s cute
hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!
fuck he’s cute
it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D
fuck he’s cute
bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???
Bakugou
dumbass
Bakugou
you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.
Bakugou
you got cam completely hooked
Bakugou
and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.
Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.
fuck he’s cute
:D :D :D :D :D
fuck he’s cute
can’t wait
fuck he’s cute
<image attached>
fuck he’s cute
ruby says hi
It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.
He barely manages to reply coherently.
Bakugou
the only bright spot in this shitty world
He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.
It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.
dumbass kirishima
GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D
dumbass Kirishima
someone threw up on my fave shoes last night
Bakugou
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Bakugou
suffer
dumbass Kirishima
y u so mean to me ☹ ☹
Bakugou
cause its fuckin hilarious
dumbass Kirishima
☹
Bakugou
ugh
Bakugou
<image attached>
[it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]
dumbass Kirishima
:D :D :D
dumbass Kirishima
legit felt my serotonin just spike
dumbass Kirishima
thxxxxxx
Bakugou
whatever
Bakuguo
dumbass
---
Bakugou
if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body
dumbass Kirishima
D:
dumbass Kirishima
at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes
dumbass Kirishima
what a lack of manners
Bakugou
stfu
dumbass Kirishima
:”D :”D
dumbass Kirishima
youre joking right?
dumbass Kirishima
right??
dumbass Kirishima
RIGHT?????
dumbass Kirishima
BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS
Bakugou
don’t call me bro
dumbass Kirishima
THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW
Bakugou
lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry
Bakugou
or did I?
dumbass Kirishima
BAKUGOU NO
---
dumbass Kirishima
<image attached>
[it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]
dumbass Kirishima
working on deez gainz
Bakugou
what time do you usually workout
dumbass Kirishima
depends on my schedule actually
dumbass Kirishima
I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day
“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”
Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”
Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”
“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”
“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.
“I truly loathe you.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”
“So what?”
“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”
“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”
“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”
“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”
“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”
“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”
“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”
Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.
“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”
“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”
“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.
Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.
Kiri
bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Bakugou
what?
Kiri
just wanted to say hi <3
Bakugou
wth
Kiri
we still on fr the gym tomorrow?
Bakugou
obviously you dumbass
Bakugou
I need you to spot me
Bakugou
im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying
Kiri
so manly :O :O :O
Kiri
I’ve got you bruh
Bakugou
don’t call me that
Bakugou
and I know you do
Kiri
<3 <3
---
Bakugou
<link>
Bakugou
that playlist you were asking about
Kiri
u da bomb katsuki
Bakugou
katsuki huh?
Bakugou
getting cocky I see
Kiri
I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???
Kiri
ur one of my closest pals
Kiri
I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro
Bakugou
I do like it more than bro
Bakugou
eijirou
Bakugou
I guess ur not terrible
Eijirou
????
Eijirou
did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??
Eijirou
who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?
Bakugou
fuck you
Bakugou
just fuck you
Eijirou
<3 <3 <3
Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.
The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.
It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.
When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.
He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.
“Hello?”
“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”
Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”
“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”
Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“
“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”
“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”
“Never in a million years.”
They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.
His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.
“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”
Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.
Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.
“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.
“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.
“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”
Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.
“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.
“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.
“Hey Kats?”
“What?”
“Are we dating?”
Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.
“No, we’re not.”
“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”
Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”
“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”
“HEY!”
Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.
“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”
Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.
“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.
When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.
“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”
Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.
“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”
Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”
He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”
Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.
“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”
“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.
Because he does know.
He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.
And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.
Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.
It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.
“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.
The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”
They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.
“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”
Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.
It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.
It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.
It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.
Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.
And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.
Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.
“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”
Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.
“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”
Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”
Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”
Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.
They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.
“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”
And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.
“Bakugo-“
“Go on a date with me.”
Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.
“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”
Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.
“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.
“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.
That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.
Eiji
hiiiiiiiiiiii
Bakugou
I swear to god Ei
Bakugou
if you’re late for our first date I will find you
Eiji
and give me a kiss? :*
Bakugou
I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management
- Koda has the cutest sneeze ever, it’s downright dainty. saw a bunch of birds come to check in on him while he had a cold. It was stupidly sweet, he’s like a live action snow white.
- Kaminari starts sparking when he has a cold and it’s hella annoying but the teachers say we can’t stick him in the faraday cage again. They didn’t deny it worked though because it did.
- The fur at the end of Ojiro’s tail ruffles rather violently when he sneezes. You need to get out of the way though, because he can sometimes whack people without meaning to, and it hurts like all hell.
- Todoroki’s sneeze always either boils the room or freezes it because his two quirks come out simultaneously, but he doesn’t have the fine control to balance them and cancel them. We’ve placed a couple of bets. Haven’t lost yet.
- No quirk related issues when Shinsou sneezes, but he makes the funniest pre-sneeze face, and kaminari managed to get a pic once and it’s been the group profile pic ever since.
- Jirou pierces her earphone jacks into the nearest surface before she sneezes because apparently her own sneezes are too loud for her. She can’t control her vibrations too well though, so she sends pulses down the wall, but they don’t hurt or anything.
- Sero’s like a confetti machine when he has a cold, just constantly ejecting pieces of tape when he’s sneezing. Saw him use his own tape to wipe his own nose, told me that a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.
- Hagakure’s colds don’t do anything quirky, but she has this horrible habit of walking around without her uniform and sneezing real loud in public spaces and scaring the ever loving shit outta everyone.
- Tokoyami’s sneezes are cute as heck, and they make him shake his head every time. You can usually tell he has a cold by the trail of feathers he leaves behind after every sneeze. Saw Dark Shadow offering him tissues, 10/10 best boi.
- Kacchan has really fine control over his quirk so he doesn’t have quirk malfunctions during a cold, but it is hilarious to hear him say ‘fug you, you moder fugers, I hade you all’.
- For a guy that big, Satou’s sneezes are almost daintier than koda’s, and he smells oddly like cinnamon when he has a cold. No idea why.
- Uraraka touches her own face and nose a lot when she sneezes, and she activates her quirk almost every time. Once saw her start to float and before she could deactivate it, she sneezed and propelled herself backward and right into a closet. Helped her out once I stopped laughing.
- Kirishima’s cold makes his hardening ripple across his left arm and right leg only. Literally nowhere else does his quirk activate. Very sus.
- Aoyama’s navel laser has a field day when he has a cold. Also, he always manages to says ‘sorry monsieur’ before sneezing and being thrust about a foot away by his laser.
- Ashido’s acid makes her cold a very slimy, very slippery affair. We’re all grateful that she mostly deals with it in her own room. Thank you pinky.
- When her cold is at its worst, Yaoyorozu ends up popping out those Russian dolls from her elbows when she sneezes. eri absolutely adores them.
- The webbing between shoji’s arms kinda open up to their full size when he sneezes. Curious to see if by chance he catches a strong gust of wind, would he be aerodynamically stable enough to take flight??
- We don’t talk about tsuyu during a cold. We do not. Talk. About tsuyu. When she’s got a cold.
- The force of Iida’s sneezes pushes him back, but the engines on his legs revs just a little bit and pushes him forward and the two forces are never equal so he ALWAYS lands on his ass on the floor and it’s honestly the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life, please help I don’t like being mean.
[the last point is distinctly not in midoriya’s handwriting, it’s probably Shinsou]
- Caught Midoriya sneezing hard one time, so hard in fact that he activated his quirk and managed to shoot himself towards the roof. There is still a Midoriya shaped outline in the right corner of the gamma gym ceiling. LOL. Dumbass.
It starts with Bakugou and Jirou. Bakugou begins attending therapy to deal with a plethora of issues, the focus of which is anger management. His counsellors are super chill, and in addition to the conventional anger management coping mechanisms they teach him, they ask him to get creative and find alternative outlets for all his pent-up energy that doesn’t involve training or hero work.
Bakugou has like zero ideas at this point, and he’s trolling around the dorms when he sees Jirou sitting in the common room with a guitar, humming under her breath. The blonde recalls playing the drums at the school festival and realizes that he not only enjoyed it, but it felt like a great release and usually left him feeling less jittery and more relaxed. So, he stalks up to her and asks if he could use the drum set sometime. (Specifically, he says, “Ears, could I please borrow the fucking drum set sometimes? For therapy and shit.”) (He says please because it’s a word they’re teaching him at therapy)
Jirou is startled but agrees immediately, with the condition that Bakugou help her with her personal project- recording covers of her fave songs. Bakugou bitches about it but concedes in the end, because Jirou has the best drum set he’s ever used and if he’s being super honest with himself, he doesn’t mind her company all that much. She’s pretty chill.
So, they start having music sessions in her soundproofed room once a week, and they’re like really good. They both take it seriously, and Jirou already has a phenomenal voice and unparalleled musical talent. Bakugou is a natural on the drums, and he is physically incapable of half-assing anything, so all the recordings are super great.
They slowly start to get closer, and Bakugou admits that Jirou has pretty awesome taste in music. Jirou loves punk and rock and alt music, but she’s super versatile in her tastes, and she has picks for virtually every genre out there. She recommends some great workout songs to him and makes him a playlist on spotify.
Bakugou uses it for every workout after that.
Eventually, Jirou makes a playlist between the two of them which lets them both add songs. She says it’s for convenience, and Bakugou obviously grumbles about it but relents easily enough. It starts with workout music, and the playlist just gets bigger and bigger, filling up with rap music in different languages, pop, rock, and even EDM.
After a while, anytime Jirou shows him a new song or he plays her something he found from his dad’s collection, they just add it to the playlist. It becomes the dumping ground for all their faves and recommendations, and it’s the most played playlist on both their phones.
The Bakusquad finally gets wind of the playlist and they all follow it, and a few days later Kaminari is raving to Jirou about how good the songs are and Kirishima says he’s been listening to it every spare moment for the last week and he’s not even half way through the playlist’s total time.
Word spreads about the playlist through 1a and everyone starts listening in. Hagakure asks if she can become a mod with Bakugou and Jirou to add her own stuff, and nobody is surprised when Bakugou elegantly tells her to fuck right off but they are surprised when Jirou politely declines. They don’t miss the cheeky smile she throws at Bakugou and they realise it’s their thing now. This playlist is something they do together, and its hella cute.
Still, it doesn’t stop people from taking Jirou’s phone and adding songs every now and then. Kirishima is the only one brave enough to add stuff from Bakugou’s phone, and it’s very telling that he’s yet to be blown up for it.
The playlist gets more and more popular, and soon the entirety of UA, including some of the faculty, are following and liking this playlist.
Jirou and Bakugou continue to jam every week, and Jirou doesn’t release any of her own music. She wants to wait till she goes pro for all that. Instead, they just play for the hell of it. They pick songs alternately, and Bakugou even sings sometimes, if the mood is right and he likes the songs enough. He makes Jirou swear never to release those. She says, “We’ll see,” because the blonde is a pretty good singer when he wants to be.
When Jirou randomly checks the playlist stats a few months down the line, she’s baffled to see that the playlist has over 200,000 likes and spans a duration of 400ish hours. Turns out, someone at UA put up a link on their social media, and the following for the playlist kinda snowballed from there.
She renames the playlist from 🎵💥 to ‘class 1a beats’, and it becomes the unofficial UA soundtrack.
Between the bits of music leaking from under the bathroom door, a heavy vibration thumping through the ground, and little scatters of what appears to be strobe lights peeking out from every gap in the wood, Shinsou should have made the executive decision of turning around and going back to his dorm room.
But it’s 3:32am and the purple haired insomniac is running on no sleep, too much coffee, and enough information crammed into his brain to ensure that if he opens his mouth, the only thing pouring out is hero laws and English proverbs.
Final’s week is hell.
So, he decides to walk right in. He’s here to wash his face, maybe stare at a wall stonily for 3 minutes, and maybe even lie down and just exist. That’s all he wants.
Instead, Shinsou walks into his first Bathroom Dance Party – lovingly known as the BDP – in full swing.
He sees Tokoyami first, perched on top of one of the bathroom stalls, bopping his head to the music. The music, which happens to be the crazy frog theme song playing on an endless loop. Todoroki is on the floor in the corner, staring vacantly into the void, mumbling what appears to be history dates. Koda is sitting next to him, his forehead pressed into the wall. There’s Satou standing in the corner head-banging rather violently, while Midoriya just jumps in time to the music, eyes shut and body swaying freely.
Ojirou’s pumping his fist, Aoyama is doing some kinda ballet routine that, Shinsou realizes in distress, actually works with the music. Iida is doing a robot dance, though whether intentionally or not no one can tell. Shoji is holding so many different colored lights in his arms and spinning, blinking rapidly as if in time with the thumping lights.
The center of the bathroom hosts the main attraction though- Sero wearing some sick sunglasses and breakdancing, Bakugou competing against him because of course Bakugou break dances, and Kirishima without his shirt on, flexing his pecs in time to the beat, orchestrated – quite literally orchestrated because his hands are waving in front of him pretentiously – by Kaminari.
Overwhelming is an understatement. Absolutely ridiculous is a gross understatement. Stupidly accurate is also not quite right.
He’s not noticed yet, so for a split second Shinsou debates walking out and leaving Japan for good.
He ends up face down on the floor in the corner occupied by Todoroki, mouthing along to those stupid history dates.
Present Mic [6:17]
i wonder what the new class 1a will be like
Eraserhead [6:25]
Don’t get too attached
Eraserhead [6:27]
I’ll probably expel them all before the end of the first week
Present Mic [6:29]
SHOTA NO
Eraserhead [6:33]
lol
---
Present Mic [10:09]
are you free in the afternoon?
Eraserhead [10:23]
No
Present Mic [10:25]
are you saying no just for the sake of it or because youre actually busy?
Eraserhead [10:32]
Does it matter?
Present Mic [10:35]
it’s the principle of the thing
Present Mic [10:37]
i know you luv me
Eraserhead [10:42]
still a no
Present Mic [10:44]
youre no fun
Eraserhead [10:55]
I know. And with my luck, the troublemakers will probably raze the school to the ground.
Present Mic [10:57]
youre such a ray of sunshine
Eraserhead [11:03]
I’ve been burned too many times. I do not trust them. At all.
Present Mic [11:06]
fair enough. well, I was going to invite you out to that new cat café that opened up nearby, but since youre busy I’ll probably take vlad or something.
Eraserhead [11:08]
Let the school burn.
Present Mic [11:10]
AHAHAHAHAHA
Present Mic [11:13]
Meet me at the gate at 12:30, we both have a long lunch today.
---
Present Mic [9:10]
your kids are something else
Eraserhead [9:22]
Not my kids. And yes. They are something else.
Eraserhead [9:25]
Definitely not human. Too problematic for that.
Eraserhead [9:27]
Gremlins. The lot of them.
Present Mic [9:30]
rein it in Shota, I can feel the love from across the phone
Eraserhead [9:35]
hahaha no
Present Mic [9:37]
L(*OεV*)E
Eraserhead [9:40]
You are literally 30 years old, why are you using emoticons?
Present Mic [9:42]
1) Emoticons are ageless you grandpa
Present Mic [9:44]
2) who even calls them emoticons lol
Eraserhead [9:48]
Go away
Present Mic [9:50]
nah, you’d miss me too much and then die of loneliness
Present Mic [9:52]
or boredom
Present Mic [9:54]
or both
Present Mic [9:55]
and I DO NOT want to take charge of your gremlins sorry
Eraserhead [9:58]
how do you manage to give me a headache over the phone?
Present Mic [10:01]
LOL im just super duper special Shota you know this already
Eraserhead [10:04]
I hate everything
Present Mic [10:07]
everything but me
Present Mic [10:07]
<3
---
Present Mic [3:19]
I thin k I saw
Present Mic [3:20]
Aoyama fling himself at Ojiro
Present Mic [3:22]
and Ojiro didn’t even?? Blink???
Present Mic [3:25]
just caught him, adjusted his grip and then put him down and went about his day
Present Mic [3:26]
wth????
Eraserhead [3:33]
Don’t even ask
---
Eraserhead [2:12]
Don’t go to the gym in Building D
Present Mic [2:15]
ok but like
Present Mic [2:16]
why?????
Eraserhead [2:19]
class 1a meets watermelons
Present Mic [2:22]
what does that even mean
Eraserhead [2:25]
You don’t want to know
Eraserhead [2:27]
Trust me
Present Mic [2:30]
lol okie i’ll get the deets from you later anyway :P
---
Present Mic [11:23]
I know you’re in the hospital right now so you wont see this and you cant respond
Present Mic [11:26]
I’m sitting next to you as I type this actually
Present Mic [11:27]
you look like a ridiculous mummy man btw
Present Mic [11:31]
but im so proud of you Shota
Present Mic [11:32]
You saved every one of your kids and it nearly cost you your life
Present Mic [11:35]
and I hate you for almost dying
Present Mic [11:37]
But you did so good
Present Mic [11:40]
come back soon ok?
---
Eraserhead [8:17]
Hey
Eraserhead [8:18]
Thanks again for babysitting Eri so last minute
Eraserhead [8:19]
How is she?
Present Mic [8:21]
don’t say thank you ew
Present Mic [8:22]
I love this girl I’ll watch her any time you want me to
Present Mic [8:24]
she’s doing good! need to use my indoor voice though, she scares too easily
Eraserhead [8:27]
If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask
Eraserhead [8:29]
And get her to bed soon
Present Mic [8:30]
Shota
Present Mic [8:31]
we went over this
Present Mic [8:33]
u literally told me everything I need to know and then some
Present Mic [8:34]
u also gave me the letter with all the details so im fine, we’re both fine
Present Mic [8:35]
if youre on break, do you want to say goodnight real quick?
<incoming call: Eraserhead>
<call finished>
Eraserhead [8:47]
thanks Hizashi
Present Mic [8:48]
ew
Present Mic [8:50]
but youre welcome <3
---
Eraserhead [10:15]
Hey, where are you?
Eraserhead [10:17]
Satou made a rainbow croquembouche, and it’s really good
Eraserhead [10:19]
ive got the whole thing to the teachers lounge
Present Mic [10:23]
IM SORRY A WHAT NOW?
Eraserhead [10:27]
<image attached>
Present Mic [10:28]
OH WOW YOU LITERALLY MEANT A RAINBOW CROQUEMBOUCHE
Present Mic [10:29]
that’s??? amazing??????
Eraserhead [10:33]
Tastes better than it looks
Present Mic [10:35]
lies
Present Mic [11:42]
so turns out you weren’t lying
Eraserhead [12:59]
HA
Eraserhead [1:01]
Told you
---
Present Mic [7:12]
hey you ok?
Present Mic [7:13]
you just walked by me with a serious look on your face
Eraserhead [7:34]
Yeah im fine
Eraserhead [7:35]
just caught some problem children making s’mores over Todoroki
Present Mic [7:37]
uh huh
Present Mic [7:38]
I mean
Present Mic [7:40]
its kinda ingenious if you think about it
Eraserhead [7:42]
That’s the part that bugs me
Eraserhead [7:43]
I need a raise
Present Mic [7:45]
lol don’t we all
---
Eraserhead [4:32]
Hey
Present Mic [4:40]
Hey
Eraserhead [4:42]
I don’t say this enough, but Im here for you
Eraserhead [4:43]
Always
Present Mic [4:53]
I know
Present Mic [4:56]
Thanks
Eraserhead [4:58]
Never have to thank me Hizashi
Eraserhead [5:00]
I’ve got your back
---
Present Mic [6:12]
so I just saw some of the problem kids in the courtyard
Eraserhead [6:20]
…. And?
Present Mic [6:23]
and our resident fave angry blond was perched on top of strong boy Kirishima
Eraserhead [6:29]
AND?
Present Mic [6:33]
And I heard something about Bakugou’s quirk and human jetpack
Eraserhead [6:35]
oh no
Eraserhead [6:37]
oh no
Present Mic [6:40]
just thought I’d let you know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Eraserhead [9:03]
2 ankle sprains, second degree burns and 1.4 singed eyebrows
BRO I JUST READ BREAKING GROUND AND IT WAS SO GOOD. You’re so fucking good at creating atmospheres/making us feel that eerie calm that comes with grief. Damn I’m still recovering. Just wanted to let you know, much love:))
ahhhhHHHHHHHHHHHH this makes my chest ache in the best way possible, thank you so much, I'm so glad you liked it :'D
“Ok uh, no judgement or anything, but why are there 700 pillows worth of feathers in the common room?”
Kaminari looks up from the pile of fluffy white feathers in his own arms and says, “Because Bakugou broke Kirishima. Again.”
Shinsou waits for him to elaborate. The blonde does not. Shinsou sighs.
“Ok, still no judgement, but what does that mean?”
Kaminari laughs and starts walking towards the common room, gesturing for Shinsou to follow.
“We were just chatting in the cafeteria this afternoon, and Bakugou asks Kirishima a simple question.” Kaminari clears his throat, scowls fiercely and does his best impression of Bakugou, “What weighs more- a kilogram of steel or a kilogram of feathers?”
Shinsou quirks a brow. Kaminari laughs again.
“I know! I know they weigh the same, and don’t you dare be surprised that I know. But yeah, Kirishima just couldn’t fathom it, like, at all. Bakugou tried literally beating it into him, but Kirishima just, sorta, stopped working? I could see his eyes go into screen saver mode.”
“Ok, and the feathers are for-?”
“Oh yeah, Yaomomo overheard and decided a practical demonstration was needed! So, we’re gathering a kilo of feathers while she makes the weighing scale and the steel. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Shinsou parrots. Class 1A is so extra.
Shinsou makes sure to record the entire experiment on his phone, for research and blackmail purposes of course.
Kirishima stays behind in the gym most evenings. This is not news to anyone, nor is it uncommon.
He usually outstays everyone actually. His stamina seems to be endless, and his quirk relies on his physical health and his ability to increase and extend his limits. So, Kirishima stays, and he trains, and he smiles the whole time. He pumps iron like a madman but makes sure to stay (barely) within his limits.
Tokoyami is aware of Kirishima’s gym habits, so he isn’t surprised when he backtracks one day to pick up a towel he’d left on one of the stands, only to find Kirishima in the room even though it’s late evening. It isn’t anything worth noting.
What is weird though is seeing him sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors, his face almost glued to his reflection. He’s leaning with his hands on his knees, and Tokoyami’s sure his forehead is touching the mirror.
The red head just stares at his reflection, and Tokoyami realizes that Kirishima is so absorbed in whatever it is that he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize the beaked hero is in the room. Tokoyami cocks his head to the side and decides to wait a minute before making his presence known.
Moments later, Kirishima hardens himself. More specifically, he hardens himself from the neck up, his arms and legs still soft and unchanged. It’s still nothing too out of the ordinary, except the face-plastered-to-the-mirror-while-on-the-floor bit.
7 seconds later, Kirishima takes a deep breath and grunts, hardening further. Layers and layers of hardening stack up like a deck of cards, and Tokoyami swallows back a chirp of amazement as he witnesses Kirishima go into Unbreakable form, his face and neck jagged and sharp. It’s mesmerizing almost, his diamond like appearance, the way it makes the vertebrae on the back of his neck jut out like a protective armor, the way even his hair hardens, though he’s left it in a pony right now.
And his eyes. Kirishima’s eyes look fierce, fiery, and so menacing. Tokoyami watches him in awe.
Kirishima continues to stay on the floor, staring at his reflection in Unbreakable. Reading his expressions might be difficult when his face is literally like a slab of well sculpted marble, not soft or malleable enough to form expressions and convey emotions, but Tokoyami can tell he’s furrowing his brow. He can see the frustration dancing in his brown-red eyes, and a few more seconds later Kirishima drops his quirk entirely. His vertebrae melt back into his neck, his cheeks are soft and fluffy, his hair puffy, and his eyes-
Sad. Thoughtful. Frustrated.
Tokoyami clears his throat. ‘Excuse me.’
Kirishima whips his head around with a surprised look on his face. He breaks into a grin when he sees Tokoyami.
‘What’s up man?’
Tokoyami points at the stands near Kirishima, slowly making his way towards it. ‘I seem to have left my towel here, I wish to pick it up so I may wash it before our next sessions.’
Kirishima looks at the stand and nods in understanding. ‘Gotcha! Please go ahead.’ He gives him a thumbs up.
Tokoyami picks up the familiar black towel with its deep purple border. The material is familiar and deceptively soft, and it smells like him. He hugs it to his chest and takes a step back before turning to look at Kirishima. The redhead catches his stare in the mirror and looks up, throwing him a quizzical smile.
‘Pardon the intrusion,’ Tokoyami starts softly, fidgeting with the towel. ‘I happened to walk in while you engaged your quirk, and I am unable to understand your intentions.’
Kirishima’s face pales instantly. ‘Oh shit, you saw that? I swear, I’m not using my quirk for anything weird, I know we aren’t supposed to use it outside of hero stuff yet but please don’t tell anyone, I really don-‘
‘Ah, you misunderstand,’ Tokoyami interrupts. ‘I do not believe you’re doing anything improper or unsafe. I merely wish to inquire about your intentions as I could not decipher them for myself. That is, of course, if you wish to speak about it. With me. If not, I understand completely and will gladly drop the subject.’
Kirishima immediately deflates with a relieved sigh. He looks away from Tokoyami and watches his own face in the mirror. Tokoyami moves his gaze to Kirishima’s face, and they look at each other through the reflective surface. Kirishima gives him a small smile, tentative and uncertain and very un-Kirishima like.
‘I don’t like talking about it cause it sounds super dumb but it’s not like I don’t want to talk about it. Um. Just. Don’t laugh? I guess?’
Tokoyami nods. ‘I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I am honored that you would trust me enough to open up about whatever it is that seems to plague your mind.’
Kirishima laughs softly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything quite so dramatic. It’s just, I’ve been doing some quirk training, I guess? Not the kind I can do during our Hero course though. This is more personal?’
Tokoyami nods in understanding, silently urging him to continue.
‘I’ve read so many things about my Unbreakable form. Most people love it. And I love it! I mean, it’s definitely a work in progress, and I know I can develop it more and get better and stronger and everything, but it’s a good move for sure. So, like, I know we all get our criticisms about our quirks, that’s normal and that’s ok.’
Kirishima clenches the fists in his lap, eyes dropping down to watch them. ‘I’ve read that my Unbreakable form is scary. Ugly. Menacing. Frightening.’ He purses his lips. ‘I don’t think those are bad things, not at all. And I don’t really mind what it looks like, it gets the job done!’
Kirishima looks back up, twisting to catch Tokoyami’s eyes with his own, omitting the mirror altogether. ‘But I wonder if my face is too scary for the kids, you know? And when I’m in the middle of a rescue in the future, I don’t want to add to their stress. I don’t want to scare them anymore than they already probably will be. But I can’t really drop Unbreakable all the time either.’
Tokoyami nods again, understanding Kirishima’s problems and feeling it ache in his core.
‘So, I wondered if there’s any way for me to make Unbreakable just a little more humane while preserving its functionality. I was thinking about softening just my eyes, so they’re not quite so jagged and scary.’
Kirishima’s eyes move back to the mirror, and he punches his thigh roughly, mouth twisting into a grimace. ‘Fine control over small portions of my body is hard though. I have a tough enough time maintaining Unbreakable on its own. To fine tune that even more seems impossible. And like, I’m not even sure it’ll work. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing Tokoyami. Not a damned clue.’
Tokoyami trills in thought, his hand moving up to support his chin.
‘While I do not wish to move the subject away from you, I would like to convey my empathy for I too face similar challenges.’ He gently prods Dark Shadow from within before continuing, ‘I do not have a conventional appearance. I do not look scary either, but Dark Shadow is, I have been told, a formidable presence.’
Dark Shadow peeks over Tokoyami’s shoulder and waves enthusiastically at Kirishima. The redhead breaks into a huge grin and returns the gesture with gusto, more than used to Dark Shadow’s appearance and antics. He really likes the guy.
‘I appreciate that our classmates have gotten used to us, and to him, but I also question how many civilians would like to be rescued by an individual with an ability like mine. I too would not like to add to their distress.’
Kirishima nods in understanding, the look in his eyes softening immeasurably.
‘I am unsure of how to help, but I would be happy to provide you with any moral support or even some simple company while you embark on this quest.’
Kirishima pats the spot next to him. ‘Sure thing Tokoyami, I really appreciate it man!’
Tokoyami nods and takes a seat on the floor. The two boys move to face each other, and Tokoyami spends the next half hour watching Kirishima engage his quirk, engage Unbreakable, and then struggle to soften his eyes.
He watches as Kirishima softens a cheek instead sometimes, watches as his forehead ripples uncertainly, watches his neck pulse with his quirk, and watches as his eyes sometimes go soft and warm. He encourages the best he can, celebrating the victories and pushing Kirishima to try once more when he fails. They burst into laughter more often than not, and it’s honestly a lot of fun.
Even Dark Shadow hangs around, somehow procuring pom-poms to celebrate and cheer.
When Kirishima finally calls it an evening, they get to their feet and start heading to the dorms.
‘If you require company, please do not hesitate to approach me. If I am able, it would be an honor to cheer you on and watch you succeed in this endeavor.’
Kirishima places a large, warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Tokoyami! I don’t practice it every day, but I’ll shoot you a text whenever I get the time to practice, and we can try to coordinate and make it work!’ He gives him his big sunshine smile. ‘Thank you for talking to me about it by the way, I really do feel a lot better.’
Tokoyami gives him another nod, and the boys walk back, enjoying the evening breeze and some light banter.
In the following weeks, Tokoyami and Kirishima swap messages and meet a lot more often. Tokoyami keeps tabs of his progress and gently pushes him to do better, and Kirishima laughs around with Dark Shadow when they take breaks. Sometimes they meet, decide they’re too lazy to quirk train and just watch old horror movies that leave Kirishima hiding behind Dark Shadow instead. Sometimes they listen to alt rock or do bicep curls. It’s a refreshing change of pace for both of them.
All their training does pay off though, sooner than they could’ve anticipated.
Aizawa brings Eri with him to hero training one day, and the young girl sits on a chair out of the way, watching with wide, amazed eyes. Aizawa stays close to her, watching over training with keen, knowing eyes. When he sees Kirishima doing some resistance training in Unbreakable form, he thinks of some pointers.
‘Riot!’
The redhead whips around to look at his teacher. Aizawa makes a come over here gesture with his hand, and Kirishima drops his quirk as he starts walking.
‘Come over here with your quirk engaged,’ Aizawa says. ‘You need to keep working on how long you can maintain your Unbreakable form, so don’t drop it right now.’
Immediately Kirishima engages his quirk and walks over to Aizawa, and every step is filled with the sharp sound of friction. Tokoyami watches as they talk, and he sees Eri looking at Red Riot with big wonderous eyes.
When they’re done chatting, Kirishima looks over at Eri. She flinches slightly, though no one can blame that on Kirishima’s appearance- Eri still flinches with most people.
Still, Tokoyami watches as Kirishima gets on his knees in front of her, still in Unbreakable form, and he sees Kirishima soften his eyes. They become liquid ruby, and he can feel the warmth almost from halfway across the gym.
He can’t hear what they say, but he sees Eri smile bright and even giggle, and he sees Aizawa appraising the situation with raised brows and an impressed sort of half smile.
Tokoyami gives Kirishima a pat on the back in his mind and bumps fists with Dark Shadow.
They all definitely have to celebrate later with some old horror movies and popcorn.
It isn’t unusual to see Uraraka in the gym. It isn’t unusual at all to see her going at it against a punching bag, striking it with ferocious jabs and strong kicks, well-paced and well-timed. It isn’t unusual in the least to see her wearing sweatpants and a sports bra, hair pulled out of her face as she sweats it out alongside her classmates.
It is unusual to see her face scrunched up like she’s on the verge of tears though. It makes something in Midoriya’s gut clench unpleasantly.
‘Hi,’ Midoriya says, wiping away the sweat on his neck with the bottom of his tee shirt. Uraraka simply nods, but her eyes don’t leave the bag. She does a one-two combo move, the bag making a satisfying thump with every hit.
‘Are you ok?’ he ventures, crossing his hands over his chest. He keeps his eyes trained on her face, and his gut twists when he sees unshed tears brimming in her big, round eyes. Uraraka wipes at her face with the inside of her elbow before she goes back to the bag.
‘I’m fine,’ she bites out between clenched teeth, and Midoriya knows she’s not okay. He decides not to push it too much though, instead moving to stand behind the bag and hold it steady for her as she pummels it. He can feel the force of her punches through the material, and her face continues to twist and contort till there are tears running down her face.
‘Uraraka,’ Midoriya finally murmurs, voice low, ‘are you hurt?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re crying, you’re not fine-‘
‘I said I’m fine! Leave me alone Deku, just- I’m fine.’
The last time Midoriya had a gut feeling like this, he’d left Iida alone after his brother got hurt and nearly lost him. The last time he’d let his guard down, Bakugou had been kidnapped from right under their noses. And the last time he hadn’t fought to understand, he hadn’t persisted in his efforts, he’d let go of Eri and allowed her to be in harm’s way, an act he would never, ever forgive himself for. So now, Midoriya has a bit of an issue letting go.
‘We don’t have to talk about it right now,’ Midoriya grunts as Uraraka kicks the bag hard enough to jostle him. ‘But you have to talk to someone. Please don’t bottle it in, you know it’ll only get worse.’
Uraraka stops punching then, chest heaving as her eyes find Midoriya’s, and they’re filled with a plethora of emotions- pain, anger, embarrassment, rage, and so much sadness. They look defeated.
‘I am fine!’ Uraraka growls, thumping both hands against the bag. ‘I am fine because I have no choice but to be fine! Because the moment I stop being fine, I will lose. So, all I can do is punch a bag, shed a tear or two in private, and move on with my life because this is a battle I cant lose.’
‘You don’t have to fight anything alone Uraraka, you have all of us.’ Midoriya gestures at the gym, littered with some of their classmates. It’s not packed to capacity, but there are people around, their good friends.
‘I do have to fight this alone though. And I certainly can’t fight this with you.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Please talk to me Uraraka, tell me more.’
‘There’s no point Deku. It won’t change a damn thing.’
‘But I want to understand anyway! Just humor me.’
Uraraka barks out a laugh before staggering away from the bag, her body angled towards Midoriya.
‘Fine, you wanna know so bad? Ok, let’s talk.’
She starts unwrapping her left hand. ‘Did you know that for every article or piece of news that goes up about my heroic deeds or my fighting, there are 8 others that talk about my measurements, which colors suit my skin tone, why I am in desperate need of losing weight, or something along those lines?’
Her right hand continues to methodically unwrap the tape with trembling fingers. ‘Every news channel I go to, no matter where, I have to read about how a female heroes’ love handles were showing while she was taking down a villain. Or how someone’s hair wasn’t perfect while they put their life on the line to do their job. And do it damn well.’
She finally finishes unwrapping one hand. ‘And did you know, that for every article written about your heroics, or Bakugou’s, or Iida’s, of which there are so many more than our female classmates’ by the way, there’s maybe 3 articles about things that don’t concern heroics? And they’re always respectful, not too invasive, somewhat curious.’
Uraraka moves to unwrap her other hand, but her fingers are shaking so bad, she can’t even find the end. Midoriya finally stumbles forward and pulls her right hand into his own, unwrapping it gently. He gives it a firm squeeze, urging her to go on.
‘I know the advice- stop listening to the tabloids, let it roll off your back, it’s not important, it’s not relevant. And I get that Midoriya, I do. I will continue to do my job. I will continue working towards being a hero. I will always do my best to save lives and defeat villains and keep everyone safe. I will.’
Her voice cracks, ‘But I also get tired, you know? I get tired of seeing people talk about me like I’m not even a person. I am so tired of seeing the female heroes objectified all the time. For them to be glorified for their looks alone and not their skills. We’re saving lives too, we’re not here to look pretty. We’re here to kick ass.’
Midoriya finishes unwrapping her hand but doesn’t let go, holding it lightly between his own. Uraraka stares at their hands and continues, ‘I want to be taken seriously. I work just as hard as you guys, and I want to be awarded that same respect but I’m not. And I don’t get to say Hey I’m tired today, if someone is disrespectful or puts me down because I’m a female hero I’ll let it slide because every time I do that, we take 3 steps back. I have to fight this fight all day, every day.’
Uraraka pulls her hand away and sinks down, resting her head on her bent knees. She slowly turns to look to the side, and she has a faraway look in her eyes.
‘I have been stared at since I was maybe 10 years old. And it’s not just me, it’s all girls. All women. We’re just stared at. Doesn’t matter what we wear, what we’re doing, where we’re going. I’m stared at. I could be in uniform, could be dressed to go to the mall or enjoy a day at the beach- I will be stared at. People, and men especially, look at me like I’m a piece of meat. I can feel it on the back of my neck, and yes, I can protect myself, but that fact that I even need to, why is that ok?’
Uraraka finally pauses, inhales deeply and a few more tears slip out.
‘I am tired, Deku. I am so tired. And I will continue to fight this battle, I will continue to stand up for Momo and Tsuyu and Mina and Hagakure and Jirou. For all the female heroes. For all women, everywhere. But I am tired of having to fight that battle in the first place. I’m just a little tired today. That’s all.’
Uraraka exhales deeply, and her entire body deflates. ‘I want to be able to walk out on the streets without my guard up because I’m a woman. I want to walk around wearing what I want and not have to worry about catcalls and judgement. I want to exist without the need to be perfect because when I’m not, it feels like I’m letting so many people down. I just want the freedom to exist as a human being, the same freedom so many take for granted. I want to talk about it, I want all of us to fight for it, I want to achieve it so someday, a little 10 year old girl can walk to her convenience store and not worry about the old geysers around the corner leering at her.’
Midoriya doesn’t move to interrupt her, not once. He listens, he absorbs, he aches. Because he knows- everything she says is true, and he can’t relate. He doesn’t face the same treatment. Granted, he faces his fair share of criticism, but his hero persona Deku does. And it’s usually for the way he fights, how reckless he can be, or sometimes how silly his bunny ears look. But never about his body. Never about his personal life. Never about his measurements, at least not in a sexual way.
And Midoriya has never been stared at, especially in a way that makes him feel small or hunted.
When Uraraka makes no move to continue, Midoriya sits on the floor, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap.
‘What can I do? How can I help, if at all?’
Uraraka mirrors his position, and for the first time since he spoke to her that day, there’s a ghost of a smile on her face. It’s a genuine one too, soft and barely there, but honest.
‘You’re a good guy,’ she says, smiling a bit wider. ‘You’re kind, you’ve never made me feel small or objectified or anything. And you don’t speak that way about other people. You speak in terms of strength, and you acknowledge everyone, regardless of gender or other parameters. You’re doing good.’
Uraraka looks to the side, and Midoriya follows her line-of-sight to see Bakugou doing crunches while Kirishima shouts encouragements at him.
‘In an ideal world, people would think more like Bakugou did during the sports festival.’ When Uraraka sees the expression on Midoriya’s face, she bursts out laughing.
‘I’m not saying we need more Kacchans around Deku, don’t worry,’ she reassures him, still giggling. ‘I’m saying he didn’t hold back; despite the backlash he was receiving. He did his best against me because he knew I was strong, and he took me seriously. We need more of that, of being taken seriously, of being on the same ground as all of you. That’s what we crave- being acknowledged as equals.’
‘Uraraka, what’s wrong?’ Iida says from somewhere behind Midoriya. Uraraka quickly rubs at her eyes, trying to get rid of the tear stains.
‘Nothing, nothing,’ she murmurs, shooting Midoriya a look. ‘We were just talking about some stuff.’
Tsuyu sits down beside Uraraka and pulls her into her side. ‘You need anything?’
‘This is good,’ Uraraka says, leaning her weight into the frog hero. Tsuyu tightens her grip protectively, and the girls speak to one another in low voices.
‘She’s fine,’ Midoriya says to Iida as he stands up. ‘We were just talking about how differently we experience the world as male and female heroes.’
‘Ah,’ Iida says, voice subdued. He pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘I’ve read the statistics, it’s honestly disheartening. The number of female heroes ostracized from the hero community for absurd reasons, the number of hate crimes committed against them, it’s outrageous.’
Midoriya doesn’t even realize he’s gone into one of his mumbling rants as he says, ‘Is there anything we can do, like right now? How can we make a difference in the position that we’re in? We are still quite a while away from being pros. We do have licenses though, and we are known in the community. We also have students from affluent families that could help make a difference. But tackling the media is always a delicate matter and-‘
‘Start by taking steps yourselves,’ Jirou says, placing a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. ‘Of course, all of what I’m about to say doesn’t really apply to you since you do it anyway but speak of us the way you speak about your male counterparts. Treat us with the same respect. Talk about us like we’re human beings with feelings. Just- it’s so systemic, all our biases and all our assumptions and how we treat and view women in society as a whole, so change will take time. We just have to take it one step at a time.’
Jirou takes her hand off Midoriya’s shoulder and shrugs, ‘We don’t want to be coddled, we don’t want special treatment, we don’t want any advantage or upper ground. We just want to level the playing field.’
‘In the meantime, when one of us is tired of fighting the system,’ Tsuyu says, getting Uraraka to her feet, ‘ice-cream and some queer-eye can’t hurt anyone, kero.’
That gets a smile out of Uraraka and Midoriya. The group slowly makes their way out the gym, nudging each other and cracking silly jokes. Jirou confirms that there’s 2 tubs of ice cream in the freezer, and Iida offers to make them popcorn even though he isn’t personally that fond of it.
There’s an unpleasant clench in Midoriya’s gut, but that’s ok- identifying the problem is the very first step towards fixing it.
And when he looks around him, he thinks they have a pretty good shot at getting it right.
Shinsou has asked Aizawa many, many questions- stupid ones, dumb ones, funny ones, and the exceptionally rare serious ones. He thought he was done being surprised by him but it turns out the purple haired kid still manages to throw him off at the weirdest times. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and they’re sitting in the teachers’ lounge with sheets of hero costume designs sprawled between them.
Aizawa leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers. It’s hard to answer a question as all-encompassing, as vague, as helpless as the concept of the afterlife. But when Shinsou comes to him with these kinda questions, he wants to do his best to be honest, and to take him seriously.
Aizawa takes a deep breath and starts, ‘Well, obviously your body stops functioning. You don’t have a heartbeat, and your brain no longer sends any signals to the rest of your organs, and you no longer have a conscience. As for what happens after that, to your soul, if you will, is up to every person. The idea of the afterlife or rebirth is-‘
‘No, I mean, what happens when you die?’ Shinsou points at Aizawa. ‘Do I get the cats? Cause I really want the cats. Desperately. I love them too much.’
Aizawa stares at the boy blankly for a whole minute before standing up, inhaling deeply, and just walking away.
He does not stop walking even when Shinsou calls out Don’t goooooo. He doesn’t stop when Hizashi shoots him a confused/concerned look. He doesn’t stop at the UA gates; he just keeps walking.
Kids are just impossible and Aizawa did not sign up for this.
He probably will leave the cats to Shinsou though.
