#bnhafest

[lunacias]

Squad photo at the park ft. class B! Can’t wait to finally see these kids animated! 

made for @bnhafest!

[birdybomb]

bakugou/deku – mountain climbing; they reach the summit together

My first prompt for the BNHA fest!

[karninari]

in one ear, out the other

Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Notes: Bakugou/Kaminari – adventure; “let’s get matching piercings!” 

also on ao3

Upon entering the gas and market, Bakugou asks Kaminari the same question he'd used back in the car, "You do know that you can use your phone to take us there, right?"

At his side, Kaminari is disentangling a thick pamphlet in his hands, spreading fold after fold of the map he'd bought from a city back. He pauses to roll his eyes, the action just barely visible through his shades, "Where's the fun in that, Bakugou? Don't you want to experience asking around for directions and getting lost in an unfamiliar city?"

Usually it was just Kaminari that came down to take care of unnecessary stuff like this while Bakugou filled up the tank, but the needle has budged little since their stop in the last town, so he'd been ushered out of the truck and into this pasty white shop filled to its brim with junk food.

And not only that, but he's forced to stand in line while Kaminari browses the greasy shelves, enduring the unwavering stare of the young girl standing beside her father who makes casual conversation with the employee, popping bubbles as she cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at him. A few minutes pass before they finish their purchases and step out of the way, and Bakugou drops the glare on his face that had appeared fascinating on someone three times smaller than him, grumbling to no one, "Not when I'm the one paying for gas."

He doesn't bother initiating pleasantries. That's what he has Kaminari for, who returns in time to greet the tired cashier that sits up in her seat at the polite smile Kaminari flashes her, "Excuse me, do you happen to know where this place is?"

Holding the map up over the counter, Kaminari points to a secret destination, one that Bakugou couldn't catch a glimpse of before it had been lifted out of sight. It was meant to be a surprise, although he had a sneaking suspicion it was another tattoo and piercing shop for another of the latter to add to the collection decorating Kaminari's ear, and by default, Bakugou's as well.

Bakugou absentmindedly plays with the huggy on his lobe, wondering if the metal was starting to get worn from the constant rubbing, unlike Kaminari's persistence, which hasn't faded in the slightest since day one.

He misses the whole conversation conducted in hushed tones, but finds little need to catch every detail like someone who was owner to a wandering mind.

With a quick thank you to the cashier, Kaminari folds up the country map they had absolutely no need for, excitement radiating from him, "C'mon, I know the way!"

Speak of the devil. Dropping his hand, Bakugou pushes off the counter, shoving the glass door open and activating the electronic bell that signals their exit, "Then let's fucking get this over with so we can get back on the road. This place is already becoming an eye sore."

They've been on the road for a few weeks, stopping every night or so for some well-earned rest, interchanging the peaceful nights with late night driving, exploring the country by car to their heart's content. There was no real destinationーsometimes they found themselves in the same city more than once, but never in the exact place as the time before. This aimless traveling was sure to put a hefty dent in their pockets, or in other words, their parent's pockets, but nothing screamed ditching responsibilities like taking a road trip one odd summer between college semesters.

Thinking about coming back was not the kind of thoughts Bakugou liked to have in the middle of night, staring aimlessly at the ceiling until his vision blurred and faded to near darkness, only to come into fruition once he blinked again. It was nearly morning, but the world really did go out of its way to mess with him, reminding him that he still had a career to pursue and a life of his own to create. By all means, it isn't the most daunting task he's encountered, one that Bakugou can do in his sleep, but a vacation is called a vacation for a reason, and sleep should already be a given.

Releasing a sigh that does little to ease his strung shoulders, Bakugou tugs the sheets up until they're all he can see and closes his eyes, tempted to call for the dreams to come and stop evading him like a coward.

This creepy, not quite realistic motel, with its neon lights and faded wallpaper, was really giving Bakugou the chills, but perhaps that was due to the air conditioner that wouldn't turn off no matter how hard Kaminari had tried to turn down the temp that was blasting cold air through the paper thin coverings and keeping Bakugou from settling in comfortably.

With a groan, Bakugou abandons all care and rolls over the imaginary line his mind had created to divide the space on the bed, moving away from his side to the naturally warmer portion that Kaminari takes up, sound asleep and snoring ever since his head had hit the pillow.

Kaminari doesn't shift or wake as the bed dips and creaks with Bakugou, nor when he draws the sheets closer. Bakugou doesn't go as far as taking up the empty space left on Kaminari's pillow, scooting his closer so their pillows overlap crookedly. The last thing he wanted was to make the mistake of sleeping too close and getting drool in his hair again. His neck is slightly elevated, but he can worry about the soreness tomorrow. A few hours of uneventful sleep was all Bakugou was asking for.

Thankfully, it welcomes Bakugou with open arms, greeting him warmly and syncing his breathing with the soft eupnea filling the room.

With the aimless exploring comes the occasional visit to tourist traps. Exploring the Golden Pavilion's gold-leafed floors is peaceful, the sight of the outer gardens and ponds a welcoming turnaround to the dazzling sights of the city. Kaminari almost doesn't want the walkthrough to end, wholly enjoying the muted chatter of touring families, but it doesn't hurt to spare a few minutes away from preserved nature when he sees children of those same families gather around one of the smaller, older attractions here.

He tugs on Bakugou's arm, who'd been busy admiring at the scenery. This location had actually come up in a conversation the other day, suggested by Bakugou himself. But one look at what Kaminari excitedly points out to him has Bakugou cracking the thoughtful gaze he's wearing to pull a face and shake his head, "No way."

Kaminari gives him a grin, nodding insistently, "Come on, Bakugou, everybody who comes here has to toss some coins in for good luck! That's what I read online, anyways."

Even with the untimely confession of admitting to doing "research" for the first place that Bakugou has had a desire to visit since the start of the trip, the frown on Bakugou curls further downward, the unflattering yet cute wrinkling of his nose beginning to form as he says blandly, "I bet it was from a stupid traveling blog."

There's nowhere to go but forward, so Bakugou doesn't offer up much resistance when Kaminari pulls him off the path and towards the age old display of stone carvings that has garnered up its own crowd in the looming shadow of one of Japan's most popular buildings. The kids present here look to be aiming at the senescent, cracked bowls filled with change, a tough target for any young child who couldn't see much past the wooden railing.  

Kaminari bounces on the balls of his feet, digging around in his pockets for a couple coins as Bakugou voices his distaste, "This is child's play."

It may very well be, but Kaminari is rusty and misses the first few throws. Miffed, Kaminari offers Bakugou to try, covering up his terrible aim to ask, "Then why not take a chance, Mr. I'm-too-cool-for-luck?"

Scowling, Bakugou snatches the coin from his fingers, looking down at the round piece for a moment. Kaminari expects to have it returned back with a half-assed excuse pinned to it, but in a stroke of luck, ironically enough, Bakugou accepts the challenge.

To no surprise, Kaminari hears the clink of stone and metal as Bakugou takes little more than a moment to draw his arm back and flick his wrist, successfully making it into the central bowls on his first try. Kaminari has to give him props for that one, clapping to the chorus of ooh's and wow's from the kids that had paused to watch, handing Bakugou another coin, "Now try throwing for me. I have bad hand-eye coordination."

Bakugou rolls his eyes as the coin is pressed into his palm, "No duh, I was in the same physical ed class as you back in high school, you were fu-" He appears to pause and bite his tongue before turning back to the stone arrangement, "-really terrible at basketball."

Pleased at Bakugou's attempt to smother his usual brashness for the sake of the children that are within earshot, Kaminari agrees, sitting his elbows on the fence as he stares at the way Bakugou scrunches his eyebrows in concentration, "I was, wasn't I? Probably because I was always watching you."

That causes Bakugou to miss by a mile, bouncing their last piece of spare change off one of the stone facets, but Kaminari is sure that, being a loyal believer of naive superstition, he's been granted enough luck to last a week when he's met with Bakugou's furiously flustered expression.

"What?" He asks, feeling the smile on his face grow obnoxiously wide, and a beat passes before he's being dragged away from the display.

"We're leaving. I wanted to come here to see the sights, not throw away money."

Spying a tea shop further down the path, Bakugou was sure going to eat those words once he tried out the tea they served here, even as a man of simple taste for tea. Mentioning the color riding high on Bakugou's cheeks would only backfire on Kaminari, so he lets Bakugou off easy this time, shifting his arm until they're properly linked together and Bakugou has no way of getting out without making a scene, "Lead the way, then."

They had just parked the truck for a minute to take a breather, but commotion to the left has Bakugou shutting his hardcover, a sharp clap of paper against cardboard to seek what's wrong: that catches Kaminari's attention as he's tugging a shirt the rest of the way over his head, one with an all too familiar skull printed to the front, "Is.... that my shirt?"

Combing the static from his hair, Kaminari checks the mirror for any flyaways before sitting back in the driver's seat, hands crossed atop the wheel, "Yeah, all mine are dirty." He smiles crookedly, and, in every sense of the word, cutely, "What, do I look bad in it?"

On the contrary, it fits him quite well for a tank top that Bakugou can hardly move in without the worry of stretching the seams.

He parts the pages again, going back to reading, "Just don't get it caught in the wrong laundry load when you wash it."

"You got it!" Kaminari gives him a quick salute before adding, "Oh, and I hope you don't mind me wearing your sweats either. You know, I don't I'll ever get over how small your waist is-"

Bakugou cuts him off with a wave of his hand, shooing away any further blathering before they could get carried away with it, "Alright, enough about me. Focus on driving."

Kaminari dutifully starts the engine, "Yes sir!"

Bakugou is still thinking about the clothes Kaminari had borrowed when they're a few miles down the road. Sorting through the mental inventory of his suitcase, Bakugou recalls having only one clean pair of sweats left that he kept for emergencies, which unmistakably falls into the same category as being the one he favors most over the rest.

His gut feeling proves right when he sees the district red string of elastic keeping the sweats snugly on Kaminari's hips. Kaminari had made mention of the size of Bakugou's waist, but neglects to remember that he always buys bottoms that are a few sizes too big.

Bakugou averts his eyes before he could judge his staring as too long for almost looking directly at someone's crotch. If not for the implications behind removing another person's clothes in a space as tight as this, Bakugou would've gone and yanked his favorite pair of sweats off Kaminari right then and there. Instead, he settles for crossing his arms and brooding over the odd satisfaction that's beginning to settle in from seeing Kaminari wear his clothes.

Doing laundry no longer sounded like a task of high priority anymore.

"I still can't figure out how the fuck you dragged me into getting piercings with you every goddamn time," Bakugou admits to Kaminari as he's laying back in the operating seat of a tattoo and piercing shop.

No matter what town they visited, scarce population and establishments or not, Kaminari would scour for a place to get a new ear piercing or two before the ones from last time have fully healed. If not for Bakugou's persistence in refusing to risk infection or whatever kinds of conditions came with "being an idiot and not following standard safety precaution," who knows what they could've contracted.

In all fairness, this is only the second shop they've stopped by after Bakugou said fuck it to waiting any longer than a six week period. They could be potentially playing with fire by extending the healing period in adding more piercings so close to the others, but here Bakugou was, sitting in the same seat that Kaminari had taken up earlier, so there was no point in turning back now. They were both strangely resistant to pain too, as it turned out, which is always a plus.

"I can be quite convincing," Kaminari reminds him, "and didn't you say once that getting piercings are badass?"

Bakugou doesn't look quite as threatening, wearing pink clips to pull back his hair and expose his ear, "Not when I'm matching with you!"

"Then what would you call this?" Kaminari asks, curious of what Bakugou thought of this rare but mutual arrangement that's begun to form in the few months they've been traveling. Sure, there were breaks when they came back home, but that only lasted a week or so before they were back on the road, hitting the three week mark today.

"It feels really..." Bakugou pauses as though to search for what to say, but any further prying from Kaminari is cut short as the body piercer rolls up in his chair, wiping the skin to be punctured with a wet swab, and holds the instrument steady so it hovers over Bakugou's ear.

Like the first time, Kaminari extends a hand to be taken, an odd happening for Bakugou who normally shies away from physical contact. But he was human like everyone else, and a little comfort never hurts where it's needed.

He can't quite piece together what word Bakugou would've used before falling quiet, but Kaminari can think of one word that encompasses this tradition as Bakugou squeezes his hand through the sudden sharp sting of the piercing gun forcing the adornment to pierce his skin. Bakugou doesn't blink once through the pain that fades like cool water on fire, pulsing yet bearable, but he does release the breath he's holding, scarlet eyes on him, and Kaminari can't find it in him to look away.

It feels almost... intimate.

The weather is never at its best, even during the summer. They've had their fair share of summer rain and gloom interlaced with the dry spells of nothing but sun, sun, and more sun. These days were filled with little activity and plenty of time to catch up on sleep, like Kaminari was doing, using Bakugou's arm, the most inconvenient replacement for a pillow, to cushion  his head from the hard armrest.

Exiting the highway, Bakugou watches the wall of fog seemingly move with the position of the truck, an illusionary sight that he almost falls for with his lack of sleep. Once he makes it to the stoplight, Bakugou uses those precious seconds to close his eyes shut, forgetting the last time he's gotten a rest.

It wasn't really anyone's fault; he could've merely woken up Kaminari to take over for the night, but the point of this whole trip was to escape the rush, hustle and bustle of duties like arriving at a location at a designated time, when there was no real deadline to be late for here. Bakugou had felt like driving until he couldn't anymore, and now seemed to be the right time to retire from that task.

He remembers the directions his phone had given him before it had died, and makes a right before pulling into the motel parking lot, recognizing the glowing sign that he'd spotted from the highway, flickering sporadically like it was signaling him over through morse code.

Bakugou can hardly make out what time it is, as displayed by the old, rickety clock tower belonging to the motel, but instead of bundling up and toughing out the chance cloudy storm to pay for a room, Bakugou flicks the windshield wipers off and puts the truck into park as best he can with a person on his arm, and makes himself comfortable in the worn seat of his truck.

With the final seconds of caressing warmth from the heater before it clicks off with the keys now removed, and his arm extended in an awkward but not unwelcome position for Kaminari to lay on, Bakugou sinks into his jacket, eyelids heavy and beginning to burn from long hours of staring down a road that stretched no further than a car ahead in every direction.

Guess it was another night in the car. Not that Bakugou was complaining, soon to wake up a few hours later with his head laying against Kaminari's, soreness the last thing on his mind.

Morning comes, and the predicted pain turns out to be quite different than expected.

Seeing red through his shut eyelids, Kaminari sighs and shoves his face into Bakugou's shoulder, turning away from the blinding rays of the sun from its place above the buildings, the thick fog of yesterday a thing of the past. Bakugou is still asleep, a weight on Kaminari's head as they use each other as pillows in the upright positions they've maintained throughout the night. But as much as Kaminari wants to watch Bakugou as he rests, he really should wake him up.

It takes a few prods to Bakugou's side to get him groggy and grumbling about being awake, but he doesn't move far before Kaminari feels a tug on the shell of his ear.

"Bakugou, wait a sec," Kaminari holds his shoulder still, unable to move his head without feeling pain. Bringing his fingers to his ear that had also been pressed up against Bakugou prior to waking up, he searches for what's keeping him there, and finds a stud earring in his ear that's entangled in the loose threads of Bakugou's shirt, "Ow, I think I'm stuck."

Running a hand over his face, Bakugou remarks gruffly, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Kaminari clears his throat to speak, just now becoming aware of how close they were planted together, "Y-Yeah, this is a first."

"I'll do it." Bakugou bats away Kaminari's fumbling fingers so he can do it himself. Kaminari tilts his head, letting Bakugou work away the knots that had caught on his piercings, wincing every now and again when the metal dug into his skin in a certain direction, which was few and far between under Bakugou's attention and careful touch.

"There." Once releasing the final knot, Kaminari straightens his neck to alleviate the slight ache that had been developing in his crevical muscles. With Kaminari free, Bakugou snaps the useless thread sticking up from the brand new hole on his shirt before tossing it away, "Stupid fucking loose ends, high quality t-shirt my ass."

Kaminari rubs at his ear, only to have Bakugou stop him with a hand, "Don't touch it, idiot."

He lifts his hand up from irritated area of his ear, "Then what else are we gonna do to soothe the pain?" Kaminari tries to recall the instructions for cleaning a piercing, "Well, I have some hydrogen peroxide in my bag, and I think a few cotton balls-" He doesn't catch Bakugou taking matter into his own hands and leaning in until he feels the press of lips on his ear as he's rambling. Kaminari's words crumble and die, the heat rushing to his face and the awareness of Bakugou kissing his ear better cranking up to full sensitivity.  

Bakugou pulls away after a few long seconds of wordless silence, and the place where he'd touched burns hot when Kaminari ghosts his fingers over it. He reattaches his jaw from where it'd fallen slack from shock, working it back into place as he finds the brain power to talk again, "... Or that could work too."

Bakugou is strangely silent when he reaches for Kaminari's backpack sitting in the back seat, grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and package of cotton swabs. Kaminari stiffens at the cold press of cleaning alcohol on his ear when a soaked swab is applied to the inflamed area, but Bakugou takes it as him tensing from the pain, and somehow his touches becomes more gentle. This is certainly a first in being under Bakugou's care without fuss or protest.

"Wanna kiss me somewhere other than my ear?" Kaminari punctuates it with a stuttering laugh, heart lodged in his throat.

"In your dreams," Bakugou speaks with usual snappiness, but he doesn't look at Kaminari once as he puts away the stuff and tosses the bag off to the side, the only hint Kaminari gets of Bakugou being embarrassed about uncharacteristic show of affection.

Being kissed by Bakugou is certainly a common occurrence in Kaminari's dreams, so that was already checked off long ago, not that Bakugou needed to know... just yet.

Biting his lip, Kaminari covers his burning ear, the pain forgotten with Bakugou's unorthodox remedy.

He can tell that Bakugou is getting annoyed with his antsy fidgeting, arms propped on the windowsill of the door and knuckles digging into his temples, but the anxiety-inducing motion doesn't last for much longer once they roll up into town and Kaminari spots the closest store that he's sure to hold a bathroom.

"Hey, can we stop here?" Kaminari pipes up, tapping on the glass window to point out the store where he could find sweet release in relieving his bladder.

Bakugou jerks his head around, hissing out the word in a reflection of his own annoyance, "Why?"

"I have to pee." He's straightforward about it, smiling diffidently as Bakugou sighs in response. There was no doubt that Kaminari was wearing Bakugou's patience dangerously thin with his words alone.

"I just asked you an hour ago if you needed to use the restroom. In the last town."

"I didn't have to go at the time."

"I'm dealing with a fucking child," Kaminari hears Bakugou says to himself, or perhaps directly to him. It certainly sounded better in Kaminari's head, but he doesn't have to think up a better excuse when Bakugou pulls over to the curb, "Fine, but make it quick."

Bakugou at the beginning this trip would've just kept driving or thrown a bigger fit before letting Kaminari off, but he's begun to stomach his complaints and let the minor inconveniences go, which Kaminari is eternally grateful for, and almost prideful about. His change in attitude wasn't just an individual effort.

"Thanks!" He'd kiss Bakugou right now out of gratitude, but his bladder would sooner explode before he could gather the courage to make such a bold move. Maybe later. For now, Kaminari unbuckles his seatbelt and runs out, albeit awkwardly with the sensitivity of each step. He can already hear Bakugou making a sarcastic mention of it when he returns, but lately, they've started to sound more like teasing and less condescending as the days have passed.

Having such odd, unreliable traveling schedules has really fucked up their sleeping and eating schedules, as Bakugou feels a rumble come from his insides and leave him with a strange sense of emptiness in the pit of his stomach. They're not far from the hotel, the place they've been staying at for the past few days to get their bearings on visiting a brand new prefecture, but in a moment of weakness and intense craving for food, Bakugou enters the shopping center a block away from the establishment.

Lightly sleeping at the time before Bakugou stops the car, Kaminari shield his eyes against the inner car lights that brighten to life, blinking them open to see better, or worse, in the drastic visibility change, "What time is it?"

"Ass crack in the morning. Hell if I know," Bakugou answers, not bothering to check. He feels the truck rock with Kaminari's stretching as he extends his arms to the high roof, "You coming or not?"

As he shuts off the light, he can make out Kaminari rubbing his eyes, "I thought we were going to the hotel?"

"I'm hungry, so I thought I might as well but some groceries. It'll only take a few minutes. You can stand up on your own two feet, can't you?" Bakugou asks, mostly out of sarcasm, which Kaminari doesn't catch in his somnolent state.

"Hm, I guess..." Kaminari shrugs, speech slurred from sleep. He doesn't have to join Bakugou, but despite that, has decided to do so anyways.

Bakugou gets out, shutting his door only to hear a suspiciously loud thud from the other side of the vehicle. Peeking over, he finds the car door swinging out wide and no Kaminari, but hears him groan out, "... Ow."

Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea to let Kaminari, who's been out like a light for most of the day, to be up and about.

Before Bakugou can call him, Kaminari picks himself up off what Bakugou can assume to be the floor, having forgotten in that moment that leaning on a door as he opened it would end with him falling out of the truck. He brushes himself off before prying his eyes open and flashing him a weak thumbs up, "I-I'm okay."

On the way in, Bakugou hovers behind Kaminari in case he's half as clumsy as he was getting out of the truck. Not that it wasn't funny to see Kaminari try to function while delirious with sleep, but a chipped tooth or broken nose could put a damper to the night or early morning or whatever hour of the day it was. He does lose sight of Kaminari when they enter the automatic sliding doors and asks him to grab a cart, but true to their plan, Kaminari comes over after a handful of slow-crawling minutes Bakugou spent weighing ramen versus yakisoba.

What Bakugou comes face to face with when he greets Kaminari really shouldn't have been as surprising as he makes it sound, "Why the fuck are you in the cart?"

Kaminari laces his fingers on his stomach, shifting his weight so his legs dangle from either side of the cart, "You've forced me awake, it's only right that you push me around in return."

Bakugou waves the noodle package in his hands as he speaks, "I didn't- Does everything I say just go in one ear, and out the other?"

"Just the stuff I don't wanna do." Closing his eyes, Kaminari waves him away like a king dealing dealing with flippant matters and a fickle audience, "Now onward, mush."

Bakugou checks the aisle they're in, seeing an employee at the other end that can care less about a grown adult crammed into one of their carts. They're both ready to turn in, so Bakugou lets Kaminari's lethargy slide for tonight. All he wanted was some noodles, and for convenience, stopping by for a snack was a better alternative to purchasing the overpriced ones courtesy of the hotel establishment looking to slip a few more dollars from their occupants.

"Whatever, just don't drop anything." Bakugou dumps the groceries onto Kaminari's lap, not caring if they spilled over. He pushes the cart, intending to stop by the snack aisle. They were running low on Kaminari's favorite candy, if Bakugou was recalling their stock correctly. He was already dozing in the cart, somehow finding a comfortable position in the metal bars and hard angles.

Bakugou purposely runs the cart into a pole on the way to the next aisle, jolting Kaminari awake for the sweet taste of petty satisfaction when he jerks up in a daze, and so he can ask him which one exactly is his favorite, but that's the only time. Kaminari doesn't need to know that Bakugou helps him out of the cart and buckles him into his seat once he's got everything they needed.

"How much money you got on you?" Leaving their hotel room for the day, Bakugou hands Kaminari the spare key, "As you know, this town only accepts cash."

Patting down his pockets for his wallet, Kaminari counts the bills inside, "Mm, not much."

"We are not living off gas station food for another week because you blew all your money on fucking souvenirs in the middle of fucking nowhere," Bakugou says, actually shuddering at the memory, like all the steel had left his spine.

"That was fun!" Kaminari begs to differ, putting away his wallet, but he goes back on his word in the next moment, thinking hard on it, "... Okay, yeah, maybe I did feel sick and throw up a little, but-" He stops to muffle a laugh as he remembers how Bakugou had groaned and griped about the stomachache he had from consuming more candy in one day than he'd ever eaten in his whole life.

That tourist trap from a few weeks back in the middle of nowhere had been a money pit, according to Bakugou. He was probably right, but Kaminari was pretty sure they still had the bag of knick knacks and goodies somewhere in the back, only granted the privilege to stay in their possession because he refused to let Bakugou toss them out. That meant they at least had some retaining value apart from "glorified trash".

Bakugou shoots him a glare, daring him to bring it up again as he gets into the truck, "I'm going to the nearest atm and we're gonna eat at a real restaurant, goddammit." Like any other place they've stayed in for an extended period of time, Bakugou has already memorized the layout of the streets they've frequented. For a Kaminari swears he has a photographic memory sometimes, which could be how he passes all their midterms with little studying.

He stops, forgetting Bakugou's impressive show of memory for a second to ask, "Wait, you're paying?"

"Who else is going to?" Bakugou questions back, as though it was obvious that he be the one to cover for the bill whenever they eat out at restaurants, like he always does.

"I could do it," Kaminari suggests as a last ditch effort. He did feel a little bad that Bakugou was always the one paying.

"I obviously have better taste in food, so don't bother." Well, Bakugou wasn't wrong about that. Kaminari snorts at the stubborn purse of Bakugou's lips as he backs out of their parking spot, allowing a minute to pass before he brings forth a compromise, "You can cover dessert, if you'd like. Your choice."

Kaminari looks at him incredulously, "Really? Anything?"

Bakugou glances over at him, choosing his words carefully, "Just... nothing I'm gonna get a damn heart attack from."

That still left a vast range of selections to choose from. Kaminari wholeheartedly agrees, grinning broadly, "Okay!"

Bakugou knows not to expect decisions to always come that easy. A perfect example of what their arguments normally tends to stem from is when he changes the radio station, but no sooner than when his finger leaves the buttons does Kaminari switch it back over.

Bakugou's eyes twitches. Being the driver, Kaminari has easy access to the wheel's system controls, including the secondary controls for the radioーand he's set on letting the song play out in its 10-minute entirety of indecipherable vocals and head-throbbing screeches of a guitar.

They glare at each other over the armrest. Bakugou meets Kaminari's stubborn line of a frown by flashing the barest hint of teeth, digging his elbow into the rubber and using his slight height advantage in the truck to tell Kaminari, "I'm not playing around. Get rid of this shit, or I'll gladly do it for you."

Kaminari glowers back with just as much heat, "You are not changing the station! This is my favorite song!"

A song that has been overplayed one too many times. It was as though the DJs seemingly used nothing but the same playlist every afternoon when they were stuck in traffic, appeasing Kaminari's peculiar tastes and sure to drive Bakugou crazy. "Keep talking, and this is the last song you're ever gonna fucking hear!"

"Ew, it's way too hot to be almost nighttime," Kaminari complains with a whine, peeling away the collar of his shirt from his skin. He's already unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, using one of the old magazines Bakugou kept stored in the back to cool himself down. Spending the day in a car with heat wave temperatures is one of many downsides to a road trip. "Can you turn on the AC, Bakugou?"

While Kaminari voices his complaints, Bakugou prefers to keep his to himself, sure to go crazy if they filled every minute of every day with protest. "You're hot?"

"Appearance-wise, yes. I'm glad you think so," Kaminari replies cockily, laughing into his hand when Bakugou feel his cheeks burn with the heat of the car and something else, "But yeah, I'm nearly drenched in sweat. We should be good regarding the engine, right?"

On the dash, the needle for the coolant temperature sensor twitches midway up the scale, but nowhere near the red line, meaning that the engine wasn't going to be overheating anytime soon.

Bakugou is all too aware of the sweat plastering his shirt to his back, and the mucky heat as he draws in a breath, so he grunts in agreement, turning the air conditioning system on. It takes a minute or two of bated silence before they feel the effects, and share a sigh of bliss.

Kaminari puts down his makeshift fan, bringing his face close to the vents, "Ahh, thanks."

The next hour passes with little interruption, Bakugou watching the forest scenery shift into one of the sea, and Kaminari alternating between leaning over his crossed legs to enjoy the refreshing air and asking if they were at their destination yet, incapable of understanding that posing the question every five minutes wasn't going to make time pass any quicker.  

Reclining back into his chair once the heat becomes tolerable in the small space of the truck, Kaminari fixes his sunglasses back over his eyes as the sun reflects off the side mirror, still peeking out through the hills at their backs. It's impossible to distinguish between the blond of Kaminari's hair, and the orange light aglow on his skin as he quietly watches the sunset.

That thought drags Bakugou's gaze back to the road and away from the peaceful expression Kaminari wears, blaming the heavy thumping of his heart on the looming cliff that lingers mere feet from the truck's wheels. He has no fear of heights, but following his better judgement, Bakugou leaves it at that, knowing that lingering in his thoughts would only complicate his already convoluted feelings that he'd hoped to escape.

They set up camp in an empty yet modest campground, no less then a few hundred feet from the dirt road where the truck sits parked for the night, in a small cluster of trees where the outskirts crest into a small hill that overlook the beach. The ocean is obscured by this hill, but the larger waves that come with the rise of the moon are an indication that a little fun in the water was only a two-minute trek away.

Sitting together on the blanket Bakugou had thrown out from the trunk in their unpacking for the night came to be of some use with the discovery of a hidden box of beer that Kaminari didn't know was tucked into the furthest corner. According to Bakugou, he'd bought it a few stops back on that late foggy night in search of groceries, nearly a lifetime ago by traveling standards. It was only fair that they'd make use of the alcohol in the easiest matter possibleーby drinking it.

Kaminari finds his distracted thoughts yielded by Bakugou speaking, "My turn?"

Taking his eyes off the sea, Kaminari smiles at Bakugou in a challenge. He takes it, putting a bit of thought into his next words, probably concerned about how he was losing a game for the first time in his drinking years. "Alright. Never have I ever cried my way out of a speeding ticket."

"Three games, and you still haven't learned, Bakugou." Kaminari shakes his head, lifting the can to his lips and tasting the sharp, Tandy character of the beer. He's certainly had better drinks than this. "Can I replace the crying with flirting and call it a done deal?"

"You actually did that?" Bakugou raises an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his tone before the surprise melts away, "Shit, of course you would. Since you're so set on drinking for pleasure instead of following the rules of a game you suggested, be my guest. Don't expect me to pick your drunk ass off the floor later."

"I'll be fine." Setting the can to the side, Kaminari leans forward on his elbows, "Okay, okay, I got one for you, Bakugou. Never have I ever invited someone to join me in a crazy countrywide road trip."

Bakugou pauses with the can already halfway to his lips. Most of the things Kaminari says are strangely specific instances that hit a bullseye with Bakugou, so he's just begun to take a drink with every new round. Being friends with Bakuhou since high school has given Kaminari quite a lot of insight into Bakugou's exciting life.

"That's a low blow." But Bakugou downs the rest of his drink anyway like he'd done with the last two. Even with Kaminari purposefully taking more sips than needed, he rightfully assumes. his place as victor for the third time in a row.

Kaminari cracks up when he crushes it against his forehead after emptying it to its last drop, the weak metal no match to Bakugou's sheer strength.

"I feel like it's super late to ask this question," Kaminari starts, waiting for Bakugou to toss away his old can for a new one, "but why'd you ask me to come with you? On this trip, I mean."

It was something he's been meaning to ask Bakugou for a while, dating back as far as that first week of aimless driving and arguing over who would pay for gas, all while wondering if this was a good decision, and not a bust that would get old in a day. Kaminari hardly remembers the stress of being stuck alone in the same breathing space as Bakugou day in and day out. Nowadays, it was all second nature, being together, but it took a great deal of learning to find a kind of harmony in their travels.

Bakugou pops the tab, careful of the foaming bubbles that stir up from being jostled around back, "Why, you want me to take you home and leave you there for real?"

"It's quite the opposite, actually. As a matter of fact, I like being here, but I was just curious. You aren't the type to suddenly up and decide to partake in a road trip for the whole summer." It may come as a universal assumption to most that Bakugou is impulsive, but he doesn't always base his actions on a lack of rhyme or reason. Not the important ones that take up a few months of a person's life, anyway.

"Who doesn't wanna take a break from college?" Bakugou says in a blatant dodge of what Kaminari was expecting to hear.

"It's only been a few years," Kaminari notes. He also notes how Bakugou begins to bristle at that.

"I know that!" He hardly raises his voice before it falls back to normal. He scratches his head out of habit, but mostly frustration, "It's like I said, sometimes you just gotta get away for a while to, I don't know, find yourself or whatever inspirational crap you're time these days. Not that I have trouble with that. I'm right here."

Coming from Bakugou, those last three words sound like a reminder to himself more than anything, the type of mantra Kaminari would say when he'd find himself in a rough patch and in need of a little self-assurance. "Of course you are," Kaminari says softly, "I can see you crystal clear."

The frown lines etched into Bakugou's face fade, and he's back to playing with the drink in his hands, spilling a bit on his fingers with the constant swirling of its contents, "As for why I dragged you out here with me..." He has little more to offer than a brief shrug of his shoulders, "Who knows. I just thought it'd be... fun for us to do. Together. We never hung out a lot because of school, so..."

All this time, Kaminari had thought it was out of convenience. Kirishima was booked the whole summer with sports camp, and everybody but Kaminari had plans for the extended vacation between semesters. Being one of his three roommates, he was the only one free when Bakugou emerged from his bedroom one morning and asked him if he wanted to take a drive, luggage full of clothes dragging behind him. No simple drive involved needing a change of clothes.

To think that Bakugou had beat around the bush for so long that he couldn't find the right time to ask until everybody had left campus for the summer and Kaminari was eating away his sorrows with cereal that same day.

With the sun no longer in sight, the solar-powered lantern at their feet blinks to life. Kaminari watches the faux fire dance along Bakugou's features, and finds himself nodding along with his words. It's a very Bakugou answer, but one that Kaminari can understand. Not quite as many obstacles block Kaminari like they do with Bakugou, who aims as high as the sun, where everybody can see him, far out of reach but close enough to look up admire.

Bakugou and a star are almost one and the same. The only difference is that Kaminari can see and touch him in the entirety of his fiery presence.

Kaminari sips his drink, biting the brim of the aluminum can nervously. He never would've thought that Bakugou and love would go so well together until this very moment.

Silence falls with the night, and the telltale signs of buzzing insect life has Kaminari sighing in relief that he'd put on bug spray before all this. He uncurls his legs at the tell-tale urge to get up and stretch, maybe even take a piss before heading into the tent for some sleep, but Bakugou hasn't moved, still nursing his beer in his hands and watching for the stars that have begun to light up the night sky, so neither will he.

By now, his eyes have adjusted to the dark and the sparse lighting of the lantern, so much so that he's able to see Bakugou's lips move when he speaks.

"You ever heard of you can turn your ashes into a firework after you die?" An odd question to pop at a time like this, but from previous examples, Kaminari has heard worse. "Go out with a bang or some badass shit like that."

"Sounds like a lifelong dream you'd have on your wish list," Kaminari admits, imagining what a firework with Bakugou's face would look like. Comical, at the very least. But also nice, a sight that Kaminari wouldn't mind seeing if not for the whole dying part. He laughs a little at that, going back to drinking his bitter beer.

Bakugou has to snort at that. "A dream for when I'm dead, yeah." A carefree one, given the scale of goals and aspirations he possesses, but a dream nonetheless.

Kaminari splays his hands on the down blanket, planting it between them. Bakugou feels their shoulders brush, and peers at him as he stares up at the sky.

"You'd make a pretty firework. All orange and yellow, the kind that would go off with a deafening boom and light up the sky." Kaminari lifts a hand and extends his fingers out, making the motion and sound of an explosion for imagery effect before smiling. "That'd surely turn more than a few heads."

"Maybe a dash of red added into it, for your eyes." Kaminari's head finds its way to Bakugou's bare shoulder, nothing to catch him and keep him close but Bakugou's arm, which twitches at the idea as Kaminari stares up at him like he's kin to the luminous moon above, "Real bright... and beautiful." The look Kaminari gives him isn't unfamiliar, but the raw intensity of it spurs Bakugou to act for the first time.

Bakugou blindly puts down his can, not caring if it makes a mess of the blanket, and catches Kaminari's wrist, thin enough that he can easily wrap his index and thumb around it with no problem. He listens for the hitch of breath, feels the thundering of Kaminari's heartbeat in the vessels of his wrist as he accepts the gentle guidance into his lap, knees knocking before they settle with purpose on either side of him.

"Is... this okay?" A question Bakugou should've asked before everything else, but one that's needless once Kaminari nods fervently for him to continue.

Only after Bakugou lets go do those same hands creep up his chest, and Bakugou should regret wearing something thin, feeling the sweat on his brow and gathering in his palms, Kaminari's touch burning through his shirt like a brand, but instead, he leans into the heat threatening to consume him, resting his hands atop Kaminari's hips. The weight of Kaminari on top of him is a physical one, but Bakugou's heart is lighter than it's felt in days, the strange sense of dread that's been crawling all over his skin now lifting away.

But while the inner pent up turmoil disappears, the outer, more obvious problems come riding up with a vengeance. In hopes of alleviating the heat gathering in his cheeks from the intimacy of mere touch, Bakugou tries looking away, but his eyes don't stray far, falling on the red, tender skin of Kaminari's pierced ear, yet to house a new set of studs from their last visit. It doesn't help Bakugou's current state of sanity that he has matching holes along the helix of his own ear, like there was meant to be an underlying meaning behind sharing something so visible for everyone to see.

As each day passes, Bakugou is starting to think that maybe there is an explanation under all the layers they've kept these emotions trapped in; ones that he's never acknowledged until now.

He feels goosebumps rise on his arms as Kaminari curls his fingers around the side of his neck, thumb pressing into the skin below his ear, and Bakugou has always been sensitive about being touched, but there's something about Kaminari doing it, who relies as heavily on skinship as he does on his words, that makes this whole situation feel natural and right.

Bakugou is well aware that if he had really wanted to, he could've made a sharp turn back to home on that first day and ended it right there and then. No exploring, no quiet, bonding moments, no them. But having Kaminari agree to join him; the kind of guy that ran on a ride or die mentality for anyone he cared aboutーBakugou didn't know how dedicated Kaminari was, not just to this trip, but to being his company along the way.

Past the point of admiring, Kaminari quietly asks, in by far the smallest voice Bakugou has heard in juxtaposition to his deafening actions, "Can I kiss you?"

He's leaning as he asks, urging him on to answer. Bakugou answers in the same breath that Kaminari sighs against his lips, "Fuck yeah."

And Bakugou will own up to the fact that he rather likes the idea of them together, in any way possible.

He can stand the taste of alcohol this time, already looking forward to when he can kiss Kaminari tomorrow, with the spirits faded from his tongue but imprinted into Bakugou's memory as he kisses him again and again, as much as he wants. Maybe the next time will be when they're no longer under the moon with a view of the ocean, but those aren't what Bakugou wants to focus on, much more interested in how Kaminari breathes heavy on his lips. In a laugh or a sigh he doesn't know, for they sound the same as music to Bakugou's ears.

"You're drunk," Bakugou's voice comes out hoarse, and his throat is parched, but cheap beer isn't going to quench this kind of thirst with Kaminari sitting in his lap.

"So are you," Kaminari nudges back, "Doesn't change the fact that I really, really like you. A lot."

"I... like you too." There's nothing to it now that they've taken the leap. Confessing almost seems unnecessary after the physical display of emotions that Bakugou just experienced. Still, it's nice to hear the words themselves.  

"Next time buy some choice alcohol for me, will you?" Kaminari asks kindly, laying his head and giving him those puppy eyes that he's perfected, learned from the best. And by the best, he means Kirishima.

Bakugou laughs from the back of his throat, perhaps one of the loudest he's ever let out, "You fucking leech."

"I do my part on this trip." Kaminari says with a teasing lilt, pleased with himself as he pats Bakugou's cheek, "Which now includes this." Bakugou doesn't get another coherent word out that night once Kaminari connects their lips again.

The crashing of waves wakes Kaminari from his light sleep.

He rubs from the sleep from his eyes, yawning. It's silent in the car, because Bakugou never likes driving with music in the morning, but he doesn't mind Kaminari rolling down the window and letting nature's music in.

His ears flood with the sounds of water below as they drive along. The desire to keep up conversation had long since died away before he'd turned in, letting Bakugou take over driving duties.

Following this oceanside road through Maizuru, they were bound to reach another multitude of campgrounds soon, where they had plans to spend the whole day, Bakugou's handy camping equipment packed away in the truck and still in good condition from yesterday's usage.

Maybe it was just him, but the ocean smelled the same no matter where they ended up. The time of the year and the weather conditions surely must have some effect, but beyond the traditional salty yet fresh smell of the sea, Kaminari isn't picky about it at all

He sits back down, hair unpleasantly ruffled from the strong ocean wind, which he reaches up to fix. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaminari can see Bakugou staring at him, but when he asks him what's up, Bakugou just shrugs and pays back attention to the windy road he seamlessly navigates through with one hand on the wheel.

This is a breezy ride compared to that one trip to the mountains where Kaminari had ended up stalling the car for overheating the engine from the climb. Bakugou has yet to forgive Kaminari, but thankfully he's granted him the privilege of driving againーon flat highways, that is.

They pass through a city by the beach, and like Kaminari had predicted, a familiar shop wedged between a flower shop and restaurant catches his eye.

"Hey, Katsuki." Bakugou twitches at the name. It's going to be a while before he gets used to being addressed as so. "Mind if we make a stop? I'm sure you'll recognize it once we see it."

The narrowing of Bakugou's eyes tells Kaminari that he already knows which place he's talking about.

Stepping into the tattoo and piercing shopping yet again fills Bakugou with a sense of déjà vu of a moment long time passed. It very well could've happened in another life, rather than two months ago, with how much has changed between him and Kaminari, who holds his hand tighter, leading him to one wall to take a look.

"Let's get matching piercings!"

"Again? I have enough damn holes in my ears to play connect the dots," Bakugou admonishes, but makes no move to drag them out and avoid another two-for-one piercing special, curious of what new stuff they have in store from last time.

"I just noticed. If you follow it, it's almost like a heart," At his side, Kaminari wonders aloud, tracing the shape of his ear, from helix to lobe, as he looks into one of the handheld mirrors on display.

"Then where's the other half?" Bakugou asks absently, eyes roving the selection.

Kaminari laughs under his breath, as though the answer is already obvious. Kaminari, with his finger sitting in the loop of his earring, long, untrimmed hair falling into his face from the slow-crawling weeks they've been on the road for the summer, escaping college and responsibilities after a late night whim of a requestーone of many decisions that Bakugou doesn't regret in the slightest.

"Maybe with you," Kaminari says softly, glancing over as he hides a smile with the back of his hand.

Bakugou gives him a good, long look, fighting off the rising blush from the honesty, "... Let's get your damn piercing, then."

Kaminari actually freezes, smile falling out of surprise, the hope coming back into his voice, "Really?"

He jerks in a nod, leaving the wall to inquire about a walk-in appointment, "Yes, now come on." It doesn't take long for his hand to be grabbed and thank you's to fall on his ear. Kaminari's sappy revelation certainly made zero sense, but perhaps a dash of impossibility is what Bakugou needs in life.  

It's already bright enough in the back of the shop to be met with the brilliance of Kaminari's smile once a new temporary stud finds its way through his skin, so Bakugou blocks it out by shoving a mirror into his face, holding a cotton ball to the newest addition to his own ear, which is a familiar ache by now. It's certainly one he can associate with the fluttering of sickeningly sweet butterflies in his belly when Kaminari brushes away his fingers to take the cotton from his fingers and aid in soothing the stinging pain.

This may well be their last visit here, with the coming signs of fall that can only mean the start of the semester and classes. Still, Bakugou has just enough time to spare to kiss Kaminari before they have to head over to the front and payーand as long as he can make time for moments like this, Bakugou is sure that he'll be an unstoppable force to the not-so-immovable object that is the world.

[sewrprince]

for the BNHA Fest prompt: Shigaraki/Dabi – Awkward First Date

title: the lesser of two evils

pairing: shigaraki/dabi

summary: in a world of heroes and villains, some children are marked with black collars to brand them as possible villains. tomura is one of those. he spends his time in loneliness, until he's joined by an unforeseen ally.

He’s not someone who stands out. It’s been a curse and a blessing likewise; his hair is grey, the colors of his school uniform are faded and his book bag had been white at some point. Some people might refer to his skin as porcelain, if it wasn’t peppered with scars, some newer than others. Ugly bumps across his neck which he touches way too often.

Just a sad teenage ghost

[read on ao3]

[maka-lucy-blog]

On the line

Here’s my submission for @bnhafest for the prompt: Todoroki/Midoriya established relationship; Todoroki dies and Izuku can’t handle it. 

“Shouto!”

Izuku shot up in bed, his heart racing.  The silence of the night pounded against his eardrums.  Moonlight spilled in through the curtains, illuminating his bedroom in a soft glow. Izuku closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.  It was only a nightmare, nothing more.  Izuku rubbed his face, surprised to find it wet.  Tears streamed steadily down his cheeks, staining the bedsheets crumpled around his waist.

He was crying?  But why?

Images from his dream flashed through his mind, jarring him out of his stupor.  Shouto!  Izuku whipped around to his left, about to yell out in alarm for Shouto.  He stopped abruptly as his eyes landed on the other side of his bed.

Shouto slept soundly beside him, his features angelic in the pale light.  Red and white hair was splayed across the pillow.  His bangs had fallen to the side, revealing the scar over his left eye. Izuku reached out and traced the edge of the mark gently with his finger.  Shouto hated his scar and tried to keep it hidden as much as possible. Izuku understood why, but he personally loved it.  It was a testament of Shouto’s strength; everything he had endured and overcome in order to get to where he was today.

He must have pressed too hard, as Shouto stirred, groaning as he stretched his limbs.  “Izuku?”

“Sorry,” he whispered, withdrawing his hand.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What are you doing up?” mumbled Shouto.  “It’s the middle of the night.”  He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  His hair stuck up in odd places and Izuku couldn’t help but smile.

“I had a bad dream,” answered Izuku sheepishly.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Izuku replied a little too quickly. Shouto arched his eyebrows and Izuku forced a laugh to dissuade him.  “It was silly.  I already forgot what it was about.  Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

Izuku kept his gaze locked on the bedsheets, unable to look Shouto in the eye.  “I don’t know why they keep happening.  I’ve never had this many in a row before.”

“We had a close call the other day,” Shouto said, rubbing his thumb in small circles on Izuku’s back.  “It’s natural you’d be shaken up by it.”

“But this is the job I wanted.  I knew when I chose to become a hero, that there’d be risks. We both knew that.”

“It’s easy to put your own life on the line. It’s harder to watch someone you love do the same.”

Izuku glanced up at him, but Shouto’s attention was focused on Izuku’s hand.  He wrapped his own fingers around Izuku’s, running his hand along the scars that adorned Izuku’s arm.  Shouto realized he had spaced out and turned his gaze back to Izuku.  He smiled softly and kissed Izuku on the forehead.

“It was just a close call.  Nothing to worry this much about.”

“What if next time we’re not so lucky?”

Izuku clamped his mouth shut, hating how childish he sounded.  Heat spread across his cheeks and he was unable to look at Shouto any longer. Shouto remained silent for a long time, watching Izuku with a stern expression.  Tears pricked at the corner of Izuku’s eyes and he wished Shouto would say something, anything.

The bed creaked as Shouto shifted his weight. He pulled Izuku against his chest, wrapping his arm around him and nuzzling his face against the back of Izuku’s neck.  Izuku flinched at the sudden contact, but quickly relaxed into Shouto’s touch.  The two lay back down, their bodies pressed tightly against each other.  Izuku took his hand and laced their fingers together, gently squeezing.  Shouto returned the gesture reassuringly.  No other words were needed.  They were both here, safe.  Within minutes, Shouto was asleep again, his steady breaths filling the silence of the room.

Izuku lay awake for a long time after.  He was scared that the nightmares would return, and once that night was difficult enough to deal with.  

Ever since he and Shouto had made their relationship official, dreams of Shouto getting injured—or even worse—plagued Izuku. Especially with everything they had gone through during their training days at U.A.  It had started out as a rare occurrence, but had quickly become a regular part of Izuku’s nights.  Part of being a hero was wanting to protect others, but never had Izuku been so close with another person to the point it caused him physical pain to think of losing them.  He couldn’t imagine life without Shouto, nor did he ever want to know what that was like.

“You worry too much,” Shouto muttered sleepily.

Izuku started.  “I thought you were asleep.”

“You’re thinking so loud it woke me up.”  Shouto hugged Izuku closer to himself.  “I know you’re strong and don’t need my protection.  But I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I’m not going anywhere either.  Okay?”

Izuku nodded, his eyes filling with tears again. He twisted around to his other side and burrowed his face against Shouto’s bare chest.  If Shouto noticed the wet against his skin, he made no comment. He simply wrapped his arms around Izuku and pressed his lips to the top of Izuku’s head.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It had been a month, and each day hurt more than the last. There were traces of him in everything Izuku saw, everywhere he went.  His scent lingered on the sheets.  His best tie hung over the back of the armchair, already knotted and waiting to be worn.  The book he would never finish sat upside down on the nightstand, open to the page he was on.  Everything around the apartment was exactly as he left it, waiting for him to come home.

But he wasn’t coming home.

Izuku sat in the apartment, not eating, barely sleeping.  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his face, alarmingly pale and peaceful.  He felt as though he was trapped in a nightmare that he could never wake up from.  He felt numb inside, constantly drained of all his energy.  It took everything he had just to continue existing, and even that seemed pointless sometimes.  He stumbled through his days, simply going through the motions of a life he once enjoyed.  The life they once enjoyed.

Uraraka and Tsuyu refused to let him waste away to nothing.  Their support was one of the few things that kept Izuku going, and their presence was a firm and appreciated reminder that he wasn’t alone.  They regularly brought him groceries, helped clean his apartment, and kept him company whenever they had time to spare.

Uraraka spent the night at Izuku’s as often as possible.  He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed they had once shared, so Uraraka made a makeshift bed in the living room with various pillows and blankets.  It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but Uraraka never complained, trying to make the most of what they had.

Her snores filled the apartment, loud enough to drown out Izuku’s thoughts.  Nights were always the hardest for him, as there was very little for him to distract himself with.  All he wanted was one dreamless night; one night without images of that day haunting him, mocking him.

He rolled over onto his side and looked up at the side table.  An old photo frame sat near the edge, a hand-me-down from his mother.  In the frame was two boys, dressed in graduation robes, holding diplomas high into the air.  The Izuku in the photo beamed at the one lying on the floor, blissfully ignorant of what was to come.  The other boy in the photo wore a much more reserved smile, but there was no mistaking the love in his expression.  He focused all of his attention on Izuku, as though the camera wasn’t even there.  He, too, looked so hopeful, so ready to greet the future with Izuku by his side.  The future he would never get to see.

Shouto.

“We need back up now!”

“Somebody, help!  I can’t find my daughter!”

“All civilians this way!  Evacuate as quickly as possible.”

Izuku retreated back to the police barricade, where the other heroes on the scene were developing a plan of attack.  Officers did their best to maintain control of the scene and give the heroes the space they needed to work.  Citizens tried to push their way to the front of the crowd behind them, eager to see some action.  Multiple ambulances and heroes with healing Quirks treated wounded civilians.

At the end of the alley, a villain had been cornered, but he made it clear he wasn’t going down without a fight.  He had already demolished several buildings in the area and was threatening to level the rest if the heroes didn’t let him walk away right then and there.

“How’s it looking in there?” Kendou asked.

Shouto shook his head, wiping the sweat off his forehead.  “Not good. So far we’ve counted three hostages.”

“So far?  You think there might be more?”

“We can’t tell.  He won’t let us get close enough.”

“Any idea of the Quirk we’re up against?”

“He’s got claws,” replied Izuku.  “I think they’re reinforced or made out of something strong, like steel.  He was able to tear through a brick wall like it was paper.”

Kendou nodded, then turned back to Shouto.  “So what’s the plan?”

“We need a distraction,” said Shouto, scrutinizing the villain carefully.  “Our main objective is to get the hostages to safety before we apprehend the villain.  We can’t attack him head on while there are still innocent people at risk.  Kendou, I’ll need you and Izuku to secure the hostages while I distract the villain.”

“By yourself?” asked Izuku.  “I can help—”

“No,” said Shouto sternly.  “The hostages are our priority.  I’ll simply buy you two enough time to get them out, and then I’ll be right behind you.  He loses all bargaining chips once we have the civilians safe.”

Izuku hated to admit it, but Shouto was right. His Quirk was best suited for this job. He nodded once and Shouto returned the gesture.

The three took their positions, waiting for Shouto’s signal.  Shouto flicked his wrist and Kendou and Izuku darted forward, keeping to the edge of the alley.  The villain laughed and launched himself toward them.  He barely got off the ground before a large ice wall formed in front of him.  He crashed into it, stumbling backwards.  He shook his head, looking for the source.  Shouto stepped forward, flames jumping off half his body.

Kendou leapt onto Izuku’s back, and he activated his full cowl, easily jumping the distance between them and the civilians. When they landed, the two small children ran up to them and clung to their legs.

“It’s okay,” Kendou said, stroking the little girl’s hair.  “You’re safe now.”

The children’s mother approached them slowly, her entire body trembling.  “Thank you,” she cried, nearly collapsing into Izuku’s arms.  “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us, we’re just doing our jobs.”

“Now let’s get you out of here.”  Kendou scooped up the kids and started back for the alley entrance, keeping her eye on the battle in the middle.  Izuku and the mother followed.

Shouto dueled fiercely with the villain, alternating between ice walls to keep him trapped and flames to bring him down.  His jaw was set in concentration as he dodged the villain’s claws and returned his own blows.

“Shouto!” shouted Izuku.  “The hostages are safe!  Get out of there!”

Shouto threw his right arm up and another ice wall sprang from the ground, trapping the villain on all sides.  Shouto turned to join his teammates, nodding to Izuku. Behind him, his ice shattered as the villain charged through, swinging his claws madly.

“Shouto!”

Shouto spun around and raised his left arm.  He shot a burst of fire, but the villain ducked, plunging his claws deep into Shouto’s chest.  Izuku screamed as Shouto crumpled to the ground.

Uraraka looped her arm through Izuku’s as they strolled through the quiet cemetery.   The trees were in full bloom, beautiful pink petals drifting lazily across the ground.  A fountain sprinkled lively on the side, birds flocking to cool off from the summer heat.  They walked in silence to the last row, the path all too familiar beneath their feet.

Izuku gripped the flowers in his hand a little too tightly, accidentally snapping some of the stems.  He hated coming here, yet at the same time, this was the only place he truly felt close to him again. They stopped at the grave and Izuku stared down at the marker.

Todoroki Shouto.

Uraraka stepped back to give Izuku some space. He knelt in the grass in front of Shouto’s grave and ducked his head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  His voice cracked as tears fell silently from his eyes.  He knew Uraraka could hear him, but she had enough tact to pretend not to notice.  “I should have been faster.  I shouldn’t have let you face him alone.  I should have… I should have…”

Izuku’s voice broke and he slumped forward, He pounded his fists against the ground as he choked out his sobs.  This couldn’t be real.  He couldn’t be gone.  It wasn’t fair.  Izuku needed him.  He promised. He promised Izuku that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Uraraka stooped next to Izuku and wrapped her arms around him.  He melted into her touch, burying his face against her shoulder.

“I can’t…” he cried, clinging desperately to her shirt.  “I can’t do this without him.  I-I miss him. I miss him s-so much.”

“I know,” Uraraka whispered, blinking away her own tears.  She stroked Izuku’s hair gently.  “I know, Deku.  I miss him, too.  But he’d want you to be strong.  He’d want you to move forward with your life, keep living.”

“I-I don’t know how.”

“I don’t know either.  But you’ll figure it out.  You always do.”

Izuku held onto Uraraka as if his life depended on it.  All of the anger, sadness, regret he had bottled up for weeks came flooding out at once and he didn’t know how to make it stop.  He wanted to be strong, for himself, for Shouto.  But right now, he simply didn’t have the energy.  He was tired.  Tired of hurting, tired of fearing, and tired of running.  Shouto was gone.  Every part of him ached, and Izuku felt like he’d never be whole again. Not without Shouto.

But he had to try.

[kiraelric]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Izuku is always nervous, Katsuki has long since stopped being an asshole, based in canon but time has moved forward, i just didn't say how much, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, bnha fest prompt Summary:

Izuku has something he needs to tell Katsuki; Katsuki has something he needs to tell Izuku - but as usual the both of them find it too difficult to say something so simple.

Written for @bnhafest - Prompt in end notes

[superbiia]

BNHA fest prompt // Bakugou/Kirishima – harry potter au; trying to keep their relationship a secret, but they swap their house ties by accident.

if one more person did something that pissed him off,  bakugou was going to do something he'd regret.

first it was kirishima forgetting to set his alarm-- they'd slept in the same room, but that was besides the point. then it was deku eyeing him nervously, angel face giggling behind his back and frog girl stopping him in his tracks just to stare at him.

though, that last one wasn't entirely out of place. she was fucking creepy.

even aizawa had given him a look. the god damn teacher! was it outrageous bedhead? did he sprout a god damn horn while he wasn't looking? ( it certainly wasn't mineta drawing shit on his face with a sharpie. he'd learned his lesson. ) It really was wearing down on his last god damn nerve.

of no surprise to anyone, the last straw happened to be kaminari .

apparently the barricade of textbooks he’d set up around himself hadn’t been enough to deter the blond, or the various ( succesful! totally intentional! ) explosions he managed to make in potions because regardless, kaminari waltzed right over to slide in on the bench beside him. “yo, man! you look tense. like more so than your usual expression which is about 80% tense. 85% on a bad day. you’re hitting about 110% right now.”

quite possibly the only thing keeping him alive was the fact bakugou couldn’t see his stupid face behind all of the books. it also meant kaminari couldn’t see him, however, and apparently he was feeling particularly brave that cheery afternoon because he took it upon himself to lift one of the textbooks out of view. “hey are you actually alive in there, dude? bakug-- “

kaminari stared. more appropriately gaped, like some shitty fish out of water or one that’d skewered itself on a hook and died. it wasn’t the first time bakugou had seen that look, something bordering on hysterical joy and fear all at the same time. but there was a touch of embarrassment there that caught him off guard. why the hell was he blushing? “oh….wow. so you guys went from trying to be subtle to this, huh?”

“you say that like they were ever subtle.” jirou piped, just having walked into the class and taking her seat. apparently she didn’t need to hear the rest of the conversation to know what they were talking about.

“ok well, no, but this is just ridiculous. i mean-- look at this. “ he whined, gesturing to the entirety of bakugou which served as exactly zero help. “this is  disgusting.”

“who the hell’s digusting!?”

kirishima either had the best or worst timing in the world, depending on who you asked, because he chose that moment to walk in to potions-- just in time to see bakugou attempting to strangle kaminari with his own tie. he didn’t even bat an eye. “glad to see everyone’s wide awake! i guess? dude when bakugou stops choking you, can i look at your homework?” not even flinching at the glare bakugou leveled him with, he made his way to his own seat.

that was when bakugou noticed.

instead of the bright sunshine yellow that usually stood stark against his swath of red, snuggled crookedly on his neck was the familiar gryffindor colors. A very familiar gryffindor tie. which means if he had his tie, then bakugou had….

in the middle of conversation, whatever kirishima had been saying died on his lips as he was yanked forward by bakugou fisting his tie, glaring intently at his face. confused, all he could do was blink, eyes straying downward slightly before darting straight back up to his face. “....huh.”

kaminari hollered from a safe spot behind jirou, “careful bakugou, or you’ll make him rock hard!”

aizawa walked in to bakugou attempting to strangle kaminari with three different ties. after class the both of them switched ties, bakugou bemoaning kirishima’s terrible tie knotting skills. then he used the leverage he had on him to pull him down for a kiss.

rock hard indeed.

[kacchanns]

[Fic] No Need for Two Kings

Another fic for BNHA Fest! I'm a couple days late with this one though... orz The prompt this time was for Overhaul and Shigaraki, "chaos; there's no need for two kings" (I HATE COMING UP WITH FIC TITLES OKAY). I had a LOT of fun with this one, writing villains is always one of my favorite things. :D I can't wait to see where their relationship is going to go in canon!

Shigaraki’s nails bit into his palms as he stood and tried not to give in to his anger. He could already tell he was losing. “Looking down your stupid mask at me like that, you’re convinced that no one can be on the same level as you.”

An innocent shine glazed across Overhaul’s eyes as he reached up to scratch absentmindedly at his mask. “Well, no one is ever equal to the king, are they?”

Shigaraki swore he felt a vein in his forehead burst.

[Read on AO3]

Their second meeting was supposed to be a simple affair, where they would go over each other’s ideals and motivations, and find out how each could benefit from the other. It was clear to Shigaraki however, from the very moment he and his group stepped into the room, that Overhaul still very much considered himself the superior. Vehement red eyes narrowed behind a disembodied hand, but the man showed no outward aggression.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” Overhaul greeted them, though his tone seemed stiff. “There’s a lot to discuss.”

“Don’t get any premature ideas,” Shigaraki replied dangerously. “I’m not just blindly hopping aboard your bandwagon.” Overhaul outstretched his arms and shrugged lightly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Our goals and methods of reaching them are in direct conflict with each other. But you’ve agreed to meeting with me again, which means you at least recognize that your system is flawed.”

Anger began bubbling up inside Shigaraki. He knew this was a bad idea. Why had he let Kurogiri talk him into this? It was pointless; they would never be able to come to an understanding. As if to establish his displeasure with the situation, he threw a cold glare over at the swirling mist of a man standing to his right. Kurogiri stepped forward almost instantly.

“We are seeking to expand our numbers, and thought that if we could settle our differences here and now then perhaps there would be a possibility of our organizations joining,” he said as business-like as always. “We would like to avoid any further bloodshed if possible.”

“As would we, of course,” Overhaul agreed, sounding awfully passive.

“You should start by not looking down on us then,” Shigaraki hissed. “View us as equals, or this isn’t going to work out.”

Overhaul slid his gaze back to Shigaraki, and the two took a short moment to study each other. Neither backed down from the other’s intense glare, although Overhaul was the one to break the silence.

“I don’t think that’s entirely possible,” he said. “I want to teach you and show you how to bring out your full potential. I want you to learn from me. With that in mind, the teacher can’t exactly view the student as on equal ground with them, can they?”

Struggling to keep his voice even, Shigaraki responded, “My sensei’s choosing me for his succession still means nothing to you, huh?”

“I’m trying to make you see that your so-called “succession” has no merit when you refuse to acknowledge the fact that, with All Might being no more, the darkness will only grow thicker and thicker. More and more Villains will begin cropping up, and who knows how many of them will also be aiming for the top. You have no plan for dealing with this, and simply think the throne will wait patiently for you. If you cannot drop this mentality and begin preparing specific measures to meet your goals, then it won’t matter whether All For One chose you or not. Because you will fall short no matter what.”

“You’re not only questioning me, but my sensei as well…” Shigaraki’s nails bit into his palms as he stood and tried not to give in to his anger. He could already tell he was losing. “Looking down your stupid mask at me like that, you’re convinced that no one can be on the same level as you.”

An innocent shine glazed across Overhaul’s eyes as he reached up to scratch absentmindedly at his mask. “Well, no one is ever equal to the king, are they?”

Shigaraki swore he felt a vein in his forehead burst.

“Kurogiri!” Shigaraki ordered, his enraged voice echoing throughout the room. The man in question appeared beside Shigaraki in an instant, and Shigaraki thrust out his arm towards him. The purplish miasma that constructed his being quickly engulfed Kurogiri’s body, and Shigaraki’s arm plunged into the darkness. Across the room, a small portion of that miasma appeared behind Overhaul, and Shigaraki’s arm shot out, hand outstretched.

Sighing, Overhaul stepped to the side, causing Shigaraki to grab at air. The masked man turned a disapproving eye towards where Shigaraki was standing, and then slowly began slipping the gloves off his hands.

“Mediocre attempt,” he murmured just loud enough for the other group to hear. “I thought we were in agreement that we wanted to avoid-”

His words cut themselves off when a grunt of pain rose from his throat. A strong stinging sensation had erupted across his right forearm, and when he looked down he noticed a pale, bony hand wrapped around his arm. He whipped his head towards the other side of the room and saw Shigaraki’s other arm inside a second portal. Furiously, Overhaul yanked his arm free and tried to retaliate with his ungloved hand, but Shigaraki’s arm retreated and the portal disappeared. With eyes like fire, Overhaul glared across the room while cradling his right arm.

“Overhaul!” one of his minions yelled out, approaching him.

“I’m fine,” Overhaul barked. Glancing down at his arm, he saw that a good amount of skin had cracked and chipped off, revealing some of the muscle and tissue underneath. The slightest touch sent pain shooting up into his shoulder. Grinding his teeth, he lifted his gaze once again towards his opponents.

“That was unwise,” he growled, taking a step forward and tossing his gloves to the ground. “I hope you’re prepared for the consequences.”

“I will become my sensei’s successor,” Shigaraki said in response, flexing the hand that had made contact with Overhaul’s arm. “Your challenging of that reality is what’s truly unwise.”

A few quick strides were all it took. The two leaders didn’t notice the chaos that erupted around them when they clashed. The only thing that seemed to matter to either of them was asserting their dominance and making their place known. Both were entirely focused on eradicating the other.

With eyes ablaze, both men viciously thrust their hands at each other, only for both to dodge the other’s attack. They didn’t waste a second, going in for the kill a second time and again coming away unsuccessful. It was like some kind of chaotic dance as they continually swung at each other and spun out of the way of each other’s blows. Neither of them lost their concentration for a second.

The first to make contact with the other was Overhaul, although what he managed to grab was one of the inanimate hands that clung onto Shigaraki’s arm. There was a cracking noise as the hand burst and sprayed blood over the two men. Overhaul staggered backwards, repulsed by the sticky substance, and Shigaraki made his move against him with an angered roar. Without a proper reaction, Overhaul’s dodge was a little slow, allowing Shigaraki to grab a handful of his coat. The material immediately began decaying away and disintegrating into the air. With a harsh twist, Overhaul tore his coat from Shigaraki’s grip, threw off the man’s balance, and, seeing an opening, swung out his leg and rammed it into Shigaraki’s side. The force of the blow was enough to send the man sprawling to the ground, but before Overhaul could get another hit in, Shigaraki had rolled out of his range and jumped back to his feet all in the same motion.

As the two stood and surveyed each other, Shigaraki gripping at his side and trying to regain the breath he had lost, the members of each of their organizations continued to brawl around them. There were sounds of Quirks being used without hesitation mixed with shouts and crashes of destruction. A thin layer of dust that had risen from the conflict stood stagnant throughout the room, creating a hazy atmosphere. Red eyes bore into brown, but for just a moment, neither leader jumped at the other.

“You say you’ll succeed All For One,” Overhaul began, “and yet you’re still going about things mindlessly. I’ll give you one last chance.” The masked man held out his arm in a beckoning way, never once breaking eye contact with his opponent. “Come under my wing, and let me show you the true pathway to success.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed dangerously and his teeth crunched together behind the severed hand that adorned his face. His hands started to tremble and a low growl built up within his throat. Before he was even aware of it himself, he was digging his nails into his neck, groaning and grunting in animosity.

“You…” he hissed through his teeth. “You think… you’re so goddamn perfect… and more worthy of my sensei’s throne than me…” Shigaraki’s whole body was shaking by this point, and the tearing of his skin had grown harsh enough to draw blood. The daggers he was shooting at Overhaul became even sharper and deadlier than before. “I’ll show you…”

Abruptly, Shigaraki leapt forward, closing the distance between them before Overhaul had a chance to think. His hands were outstretched, skin and blood buried under his unkempt fingernails. The crimson of his eyes shone with a murderous intent.

“…Why my sensei chose me!!” he screamed.

His hand came down on Overhaul’s mask before the latter had even taken a step backward. Cracks immediately began sprouting up the beak-like object and it started crumbling into nothing. Overhaul’s eyes widened in something like terror as the tip of the mask opened up and the dust in the air invaded his breathing space. With a shriek, he blindly swung out his arm. Unprepared for the sudden retaliation, Shigaraki was unable to dodge the blow, and Overhaul’s fist cracked into his jaw. He was sent tumbling to the side, tearing off the brittle remainder of Overhaul’s mask as he went.

A sudden coughing fit shook Overhaul’s frame, and he immediately thrust his hand into one of the pockets of his coat. After momentarily fumbling, he pulled out a pair of disposable medical gloves and quickly put them on before covering his exposed mouth with his hand. His eyes had gone bloodshot and sweat covered his face as he took several steps backward from where Shigaraki was regaining his bearings.

The disembodied hand that usually stayed attached to Shigaraki’s face was lying discarded on the ground. Shigaraki was carefully rubbing at his jaw while also trying to conceal his features. His unoccupied hand probed the ground cautiously for the dropped object and tentatively picked it up, holding it in his grip as he glanced over towards Overhaul’s direction. Although the man had backed up considerably and looked to be in a state of panic, Shigaraki refused to let his guard down for a moment.

As if sensing Shigaraki’s gaze, Overhaul turned his attention back to him, his reddened eyes enraged and his gloved hand still clutching tightly to his lips. The hellish expression on Shigaraki’s revealed face didn’t seem to faze Overhaul at all. Even still, he took another step backward.

“So it’s war you want,” he muttered behind his hand. Shigaraki barely heard him. “So be it.”

With one quick yell, all of Overhaul’s subordinates abandoned their fighting with the League members and grouped up behind their leader. The young yakuza gave Shigaraki a sharp glare.

“This is only the beginning,” he proclaimed between coughs. His breathing had become rather erratic. “When next we meet, you’ll be sure to realize how mistaken you’ve been.”

“Your threats mean nothing to me,” Shigaraki responded, standing up straight. “There’s nothing I want more than to turn you and your ridiculous crusade into dust. Besides…”

With a malicious grin splitting across his face, Shigaraki placed the severed hand back over his face. His flaming red eyes gazed out from between the fingers, and the look of discomfort shaking throughout Overhaul’s entire being as he tried to deal with no longer having his mask only brought Shigaraki mirth.

“The underworld is a rather dirty place, you know?” he said, not quite containing the levity in his voice. Overhaul’s eyes narrowed, but he made no move to make a rebuttal. Instead, he turned away from Shigaraki, still keeping his mouth covered. Before taking any steps to leave however, he turned his head halfway back towards Shigaraki, his brown eyes piercing.

“I look forward to your inevitable destruction,” he said simply, but his tone was sharper than ever.

With that final statement, he and his group began to leave. A few members from the League began trying to stop them, but Shigaraki lifted his hand into the air.

“Let them go,” he ordered, some amusement still leaking into his words. “We’ll see them again soon enough.”

And I’ll be looking down on you from the top, Shigaraki thought to himself. And his cracked lips turned up further.