For the kids thingy. Pls. 47. Out of Spite for Bakugou/Kirishima pls
Kirishima didn’t get mad at Bakugou often. Even before they had started dating, it never really happened. He got annoyed, sure. Bakugou was an asshole. Kirishima knew this, probably better than most at this point. But he also knew that there was a person past the asshole Bakugou portrayed. And so Kirishima had learned to translate the insults and jabs into what Bakugou really meant. It came to him easy as breathing.
That didn’t necessarily mean Bakugou never got under his skin.
It was the end of the day and they were sparring. Kirishima had been burning the wicks at both ends between school and his internship with Fatgum. Every one of his limbs burned from training and patrols, and his head spun with the facts and figures of the upcoming raid. He knew his heart wasn’t in it today.
Which would have been fine if Bakugou didn’t take it like a personal insult.
“Is this the best you can do, hair-for-brains?” He shouted. An explosion rocketed from his palm and Kirishima barely rolled out of the way. He grimaced. Bakugou was kicking his ass, and it was embarrassing. Even though Bakugou won more often than not, Kirishima could usually at least hold his own. He hadn’t managed to get one good hit in the whole time, constantly stuck on the defensive. It was frustrating, to the point that Kirishima could feel angry tears welling in his eyes.
Bakugou’s words weren’t helping.
“You should be better than this! Give me your all!” He fired an explosion at Kirishima’s feet, to make him stumbled, then blasted him into the back wall. “You wanna honor Crimson Riot, then do it!” Another explosion, this time right at his face. Kirishima dropped to his knees, but felt the heat surge through his hair. “Prove you belong here or stop wasting everyone’s time!”
Later, Kirishima would feel bad. He hadn’t told Bakugou about his middle school days, about the insecurities that plagued him. He hadn’t told Bakugou why he dyed his hair and spiked it the way he did. And he most certainly hadn’t told Bakugou about the case he was currently working on, and how all his flaws felt amplified under the weight each mistake he made.
Bakugou hadn’t known, and without context, none of what he was saying was any worse than his normal vitriol.
But in the moment, Kirishima felt exactly like the sad boy with black hair he had sworn would never again define him, and he wanted it to stop.
Suddenly, he was certain he could win, albeit, if he played a little dirty.
He charged Bakugou, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum. For a moment, Bakugou was surprised, and his hands faltered, before he remembered himself and detonated two explosions, one glancing Kirishima’s shoulder and the other slamming into his gut. Kirishima pushed through. He had to get close enough.
Bakugou seemed to realize what Kirishima was going for. He grinned, and braced himself for hand to hand, palms sparking in anticipation. His mouth erupted in a grin so feral, Kirishima was ready for him to sprout fangs. “Finally figured out you don’t stand a chance from far away?” Bakugou taunted and Kirishima growled.
“Shut up!” he grunted, and grabbed Bakugou’s shirt to pull him into a kiss. Kirishima could feel Bakugou’s brain reset as his entire body tensed up, then relaxed. He didn’t kiss back, but his lips parted in surprise, allowing Kirishima to easily swipe his tongue across his teeth. For the first time in an hour, the popping and cracking of nitroglycerin silenced.
Kirishima bent his knees and grabbed Bakugou’s arm. He flipped Bakugou over his shoulder before he even had a chance to struggle. Bakugou hit the mat hard, and Kirishima could hear the breath punch out of his lungs. He felt a little bad, but not enough to stop. He hardened one of his hands and held it to Bakugou’s throat, while using his knees to keep Bakugou’s arms down and useless. He was pinned.
For a moment, they just sat there, neither budging. The only sound was their heavy breaths, heaving from the workout. Now that they were still, Kirishima realized he was drenched in sweat and that it wouldn’t have been hard from Bakugou to slip out of his hold. He didn’t though. He merely stared at Kirishima. Kirishima stared back, noting how his boyfriend’s pupils dilated, the way he nervously swallowed and licked his lips.
That was something Kirishima needed to file away for later.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
