Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First year, Katsuki Bakugo had broken out of his angry shell enough (at the coaxing of Eijirou and Midoriya both) and became friends with the self proclaimed Bakusquad—thanks for the name, Sero—which is really small, for how Eijirou is used to having friends, just him, Sero, obviously, Mina and Kaminari, and then Bakugo, of course.

That went well for a while, literally a whole year, where he even got used to them and would sit with them in common rooms and at lunch, would run with Eijirou and train with them all, and insult them less viciously, remembering them beyond, “That fuckin’ Extra over there.”

Then summer hit.

And they didn’t answer a single text, call or even email from Bakugo. Nothing. 

Not even when Sero and Mina got together, not a single “Ah, you disgusting simps, I fuckin’ knew it.” or request for no PDA. Silence. They were worried about it, for a while, but he would look at the texts and stuff, so he was alive. He just… didn’t talk to them.

It was like they didn’t exist when they weren’t in school.

One day, during one of their summer hang-outs, Kaminari off handedly said, “Maybe he just, like, doesn’t know how to have friends. Y’know. Like we had a bunch of routine and shit at school, so now that it’s summer he’s all bogged down. It’s not like he texted us back at school much, he basically just came to where we are to yell the answer back.”

And that’s what they agreed on.

That he just didn’t know better—not that he disliked them or was a fake friend.

But then, the day before year two began, every single person in Class 1-A, even down to Shinsou, their new transfer that year, got an email from Todoroki ‘on Midoriya’s behalf’ which was angry and accusatory, and told everyone the reason Midoriya was so jumpy, prone to being emotional and then closed off, and so selfless.

Bakugo bullied him.

Actually, it was more like abuse—he physically intimidated him, told him to go jump off something. It was, it was really bad. And disheartening. And made both Mina and Eijirou cry reading it, about their best friend. They stayed together for three days that time, at Sero’s giant house, to talk about it.

Kaminari was the one who texted Midoriya first.

Unsurprisingly, Midoriya had already forgiven Bakugo, and was able to say why he did it—because the teachers let him, told him it was expected, normal, because Midoriya was ‘weak’ and why would he know any better, and wasn’t really punished for any of it.

But then, surprisingly, Midoriya said he earned it.

Because—and only because he thought the Bakusquad knew (and apologized to spilling information that wasn’t his to after, like, sounded like he was crying about it)—apparently, Bakugo was in therapy, and had earnestly and sincerely apologized, and changed his behavior.

But by then, the Dekusquad, which Asui named to match and because she likes puns, was well pissed. Because it made sense, what Bakugo was—a bully—and they didn’t see how he had changed. Suddenly, all of 2-A was anti-Bakugo, and also treated Midoriya like a child.

Second year was quiet, and terrible.

Publicly, Iida shamed Bakugo whenever he spoke, even just raising his class in hand—because it’s the only time he could get him alone. Both Todoroki and Uraraka slapped Bakugo when he did talk to and insult Midoriya, even when Midoriya was happily in conversation, Uraraka multiple times. 

It was brushed off, honestly, Eijirou thinks, because what is a slap compared to telling someone to go kill themself?

Todoroki was ruthless in training. 

It was the year he started using his fire and ice combo (never fire alone), and it was the year that Bakugo decided some things weren’t worth fighting back about—because they weren’t conducive to training, if the other wasn’t taking it seriously enough to include useless emotions. 

Midoriya was never allowed to be alone with him, and it destroyed their relationship, publicly. 

Bakugo stopped eating in the common room, stopped going to the lunchroom, talking in class past insults and grumbles. Even Mr. Aizawa noticed, and all of his questions went unanswered, but when Todoroki asked if he knew about the bullying, he said it was in file.

But he wouldn’t say more, not with Bakugo’s—note: not Midoriya’s—permission.

And he avoided the Bakusquad. 

He didn’t let them talk to him in public—Eijirou recognized it as him protecting their reputation, and everyone else agreed. There was nothing any of them, even Mina, could do to help Bakugo. He didn’t let them, and if Katsuki Bakugo didn’t want something to happen, it didn’t.

The class didn’t calm down until the last month of school when Midoriya cried—cried as in public mental and nervous breakdown, not crying in the way sometimes he can get randomly sad or emotional—about the way they all turned into bullies just like Bakugo was. 

Which rocked their world, apparently. 

But none of them, save Asui, tried to apologize. 

Even then, Bakugo didn't let her because “The fuck is there to apologize for, Dumb Leap Frog, you know I actually did that shit, right? Fuck off and die in a hole.” which only made matters worse, because telling her die was too ‘similar’ to how he treated Midoriya.

He was isolated.

This summer was worse.

This summer, he didn’t check any group chats or texts. Didn’t reply to emails. It was like he stopped existing. Sero used some backwards Rich Person money hack and found out that his phone was still active and in use, but shut off for days on end.

Honestly—it just sounded like he was grounded a lot or something, which did make sense for Bakugo. They were just happy that they’re alive.

This year, it’s not much better when he came back.

“Every fuckin’ time you speak, I lose brain cells.” Bakugo snaps at Kaminari—who was ranting because he didn’t understand their Pro Hero History assignment, which was due tomorrow morning—whose grin immediately turns less genuine and more scared.

But Eijirou, in all his sleep deprived and exhausted state, just ends up… not taking this verbal warning seriously and mumbles out “And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly…” past sharp teeth.

If looks could kill, you did not want to be Eijirou Kirishima.

“I-I mean, um-”

“Fuck off.” Bakugo growls.

And that’s it. That’s it ?

Eijirou and Kaminari share a worried look—and it’s worried on multiple levels. There’s the first thing, that Bakugo didn’t blow up at him. And him being in the common room this late, or really at all, is a thing everyone is getting used to all together. 

He used to, in first year, when they were all new… but after last year—

They don’t talk about that.

Then there’s Eijirou and Kaminari being worried about not getting disintegrated, like it’s normal (and it is). It’s not, because, obviously, but it’s almost like Bakugo is being… nice. Ew. Yuck. No. Bakugo and nice don’t belong in the same sentence, by any means.

Kaminari lets out a nervous laugh first.

And really, that isn’t all that surprising—he likes to push, push , push Bakugo’s buttons just to see what happens. It’s not that Kaminari doesn’t know how to think ahead or is actually stupid, it’s just that he likes not having to think unless it’s important. Apparently, since Bakugo didn’t react like he normally does, Kaminari is feeling falsely safe.

So it would be him to go, open his dumb mouth and say:

“Awh, Bakugo, are you being nice because you have a crush on Kiri?”

“ What? ” Bakugo seethes in an instant—and the cup in his hand cracks down the middle, water spilling over the oak table, just as a little pop-pop-pop of his quirk sounds out, an involuntary blast due to surprise, hitting the glass from the center of his palm.

Finally, Kaminari seems to realize the danger he’s in when Mina barks out a laugh, causing another pop to sound out, and bolts. But Bakugo only turns his glare onto her.

“The fuck you laughing at, Raccoon Eyes?”

“Nothing, just-”

“Whatever!” Slamming the book he’s been reading close, the blond rises to his feet, growling out curses and threats as he stomps into the direction of the dormitories. 

Now, having the dorm room right next to him suddenly seems less okay in the ‘if villains break in, I will definitely be fine’ way and more in the ‘I’m gonna have my face exploded if I’m not super careful tonight’ kind of way. Which is less than ideal.

Or—no.

Eijirou doesn’t want to think like this isn’t a one-time thing. Bakugo just… didn’t have the energy to yell until he was actually pissed off or something, and it’s not like they’re really his friends anymore. There’s—there’s really nothing to this moment.

He lets it go.

There’s something to it.

Eijirou wakes up at two in the morning thinking about it. Screw letting it go. Bakugo— Bakugo —is being ‘nice’ to Eijirou. And only him too. Now, he’s not always the best at introspection, actually, some could say he’s actually distinctly bad at it.

But it’s two in the morning, he has nothing better to do than sleep, and he’s focused .

And all he can think about is Bakugo.

This summer was the worst (obviously).

This year, he came back to school with a black eye and more books than ever. He was the top of class all Second year, miles ahead of everyone—never let that slip. But this year, he also started quietly spending just a little time in the common room when every single member of the Bakusquad was there.

Even if just one of them was missing, he didn’t.

It’s not like nobody noticed—he got stared at, questioned, insulted. And there was nothing he could do about that either, but he didn’t leave. 

No wonder Kaminari thought that he was okay to joke around, if Bakugo didn’t leave for Aoyama calling him Monsieur Bully or Uraraka’s bubbly self glaring at him all the time, hand at the ready, why would he leave at something small like Kaminari teasing him?

It makes sense, though.

Because they were friends, he knows a big thing for Bakugo is respect. That for him, it needs to be earned, just like trust. So when someone no longer suspects him, he decides they’re no longer worth his time and because of that, he stops even looking at him, even if they call his name.

That’s what’s happening with the class.

They disrespect Bakugo; Bakugo stops being around them. To him, it would just be a waste of time and energy he could spend on something else—so why do it?

Eijirou gets that.

He just doesn’t know how to convince someone who won’t talk to him that Kaminari doesn’t share the views of the class. Because that’s what it boils down to—isn’t it; that Bakugo left because he thought Kaminari no longer respected him, at least how he used to.

Before, Kaminari wouldn’t think that Bakugo would physically hurt him—genuinely—for a comment like that (and neither would Eijirou). So he wouldn’t have run, because he didn’t think that Bakugo snaps into non-verbal violence so easily.

This time, he did.

And it’s the first time Bakugo gave him the chance to after learning about him and Midoriya.

Really, for someone who a lot of the class calls ‘Dorm Mom’ or their personal therapist, he should have been on top of this so much faster. Because he can make Bakugo listen to him, somehow, right? He can totally fix this! Like, there’s no way Bakugo is content being alone.

Or…?

With a groan, Eijirou rolls over and gets out his phone.

Bakusquad

Hard Hands

EMERGENCY @everyone

Slowly, he watches them all turn active (in retrospect, it would be easy to avoid what happens next by simply remembering that just because Bakugo isn’t active in their group chat doesn’t mean he isn’t still there) before getting up to unlock his door.

Might as well make it easy for them.

Of course, because they’re all on the same floor—the fifth, the last dorm floor—they can all get here quickly—it’s just a matter who can get themselves up, awake or put together the fastest.

Kaminari is always a quick bet, because he doesn’t really care what he looks like, especially when he’s tired, but Mina is the exact opposite. And her room is on the other side of the communal showers and elevator, being the only girl in their dorm.

Sero, go figure, gets there the quickest, just busting through his door out of breath, elbows out. “What’s wrong!”

“I’m ready!” Kaminari shouts, body buzzing with electricity as he follows through the door.

“Woah!” Eijirou sits up. “Where’s the fire?”

“Where’s the—!”

“—you’re the one who—”

“Emergency?!” Mina screeches, flying through his door, eye mask around her horns, pajamas a mess. “Who do I need to melt?”

“ Jesus Christ .” Eijirou breathes out. “I called an emergency meeting, I didn’t send out an emergency alert.”

“The hell you didn’t!” Sero is quick to shove his phone in Eijirou’s face.

And shit. They’re right.

Eijirou awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, only a little bit insecure about his hair being down. Maybe he is too tired to try and have this talk. “Sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to worry you so much. Everything’s fine—well, I’m not like, in danger.”

For a tense moment everything is fine.

They all turn their quirk off and laugh off the adrenaline. Kaminari sits down on the floor, Mina sits on the desk and lets Sero sit in the desk chair, and Eijirou manages to make his bed as he waits for them to gather themselves—she insists on borrowing mint gum, his hairbrush, and pants.

He lets her without complaint, ‘cause arguing with Mina is pointless.

Sero drops his hands together. “So-”

His door is kicked open, smacking into Kaminari and laying him out flat, then there’s one large hand pointed towards Mina and Sero like a weapon and Bakugo’s snarling face is seen in Eijirou’s flickering lamp light—when Kaminari got hit, the electronics starting bugging out—before it simultaneously deflates and gets angrier.

“ This, ” He spits out. “Is the fuckin’ emergency? I’m going to fuckin’  kill you, Shitty-”

Mina is on him in a moment, arms around his middle, gushing out “I knew you cared! You check the group chat even this late at night? I love you too, Bakugo!” while he raises his arms away from her, snarling.

“Stop being fuckin’ clingy and annoying, Alien.”

She lets go and then he’s just… gone. Returns back to his dorm room and acts like it didn’t happen. 

When Eijirou looks up from his shock, Sero is pulling Kaminari up to stand and Mina is pouting. “So, um,” He clears his throat. It’s embarrassing and hurtful, and something he can understand completely at the same time. “I called a meeting to talk about Bakugo anyway.”

“Even before he, like, burst in?” Kaminari asks dizzily.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I want to have the rest of the class start to respect him again, so he’ll be himself and actually act like we’re his friends, and be more social—since he can’t really do any of that when they all just gang up on him. Especially Todoroki and Uraraka.”

Sero frowns. “But the thing with Midoriya… it’s… talking only goes so far if you’re not Bakugo repenting and bowing down to them. Which is what they want.”

“Yeah, who’s gonna like him again? They didn’t even like him in the first place and they’re too blinded to even look at the situation as it actually is.” Mina scowls, leaning back, yellow eyes stark against the black. “For a group so smart they’ve been really dumb.”

“Blasty’s changed a lot since elementary and middle school.” Kaminari says, looking around for support. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eijirou nods. “Does to me. And Midoriya too.”

“Do any of them even care that Deku forgave him?” Mina huffs. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“He did bully someone, and that’s like, bad. But also, like, years ago, right? So like, he’s already gone through the whole thing where he apologizes and gets better. Just ‘cause the information is new doesn’t really mean that it’s still, like, a problem, right?”

“You talk more like a Valley Girl when you’re tired.” Eijirou notes.

Mina nods, pink hair falling in front of her eyes. “Right.”

Quietly  Sero pulls his knees up to his chest and says, “Jiro asked me why I’m still friends with a monster, and when I asked her how Bakugo was a monster, because like, we’ve all seen what an actual monster looks like. It’s what we train for! And she just said—”

“ Anyone who could hurt Deku is one .”

“We have to convince them.” Eijirou exclaims with a shout, fists hitting his thighs. “We have too! Start with the Dekusquad and then move through the ranks, then once there’s doubts with everyone, we can call a class meeting. Maybe even get Aizawa involved?”

“Let’s hold off on the teach.” Kaminari says, hands raised. “But agree.”

“Todoroki’s my bud,” Mina says. “I bet I can crack him.”

“I can talk to Ochoka.” Sero nods to himself.

Kaminari grins at them, “Who’s my target?”

Eijirou and Sero look at each other, then to Mina, then all three of them turn to Kaminari and say “Asui.” in sync. Which really, out of the Dekusquad, leaves Iida to Eijirou himself—which is something that he is definitely not looking forward to.

There’s a beat of silence and then Eijirou is asking, “Last year, what Midoriya said, about how the class treats Bakugo. Do you really thinks it’s like they’re retaliation bullying him?”

“He’s like, too big of a man to be bullied.” Kaminari says.

“Maybe it kinda is, but I don’t know if that’s how it makes Blasty feel.”

Agreeing, Sero nods. “Yeah. I think if someone was bullying Bakugo and he recognized it, they’d be exploded into pieces, or at the very least have some burn marks.”

Eijirou doesn’t say but what if he feels like he deserves it . 

It’s less about the possibility of him being wrong or shut down, because Bakugo has the biggest ego out of anyone, he’s prideful, so how could he feel like he deserves it, and more about him being right, about his friends going quiet; sad; and not being able to help yet.

One thing at a time. Tomorrow, they’ll start to pick at their targets.

And the next day, Bakugo is going to get a mouthful from Eijirou Kirishima.

Chapter Text

Something was wrong with Bakugo.

Well—like, that much is blatantly obvious, genuinely. Nobody gets like that without something being wrong—but Eijirou, for some reason, never really seemed to piece that together. Two school years, two summers and a single week he’s spent with the guy and he’s never bothered to wonder why?

Sure, there were moments he thought stuff like he likes being the biggest guy around or it’s all to get to be the number one pro hero the fastest or he must have been raised in a loud environment but never did he stop and question it further. Eijirou has never connected the dots, even after the ‘Bakugo bullying Midoriya even at five years old’ thing came out.

He knows the statistics.

Ninety-seven percent of the time, if someone is a bully, that means they’re getting bullied at home or were bullied too. That means there’s a three percent chance— only a three percent chance —that everything with Bakugo has been fine at school and home since he was five .

Just thinking about it makes Eijirou’s blood pressure rise—he feels the anxiety of it building in his stomach.

Before, all the little comments and suggestions his best friends have made about Bakugo being bullied seem juvenile in the face of possible abuse. It scares Eijirou half to death thinking that the strongest person he knows would be put in a situation where he’s hurt so much.

Is he actually strong? Or is he just scared all the time? What did Kaminari say? Bakugo is too big of a man to be bullied. Is he too big to be abused?

God, that makes his stomach twist.

Blasty Protection Squad

President Kiri

ik i said i was gonna talk to baku today but i thought of something so idk if i should anymore… ?

Manager Sero

Well what is it

President Kiri

yk how we thought baku might b bullied by our class after the bully thing ?

Member Denki

we agreed he wasnt tho????

VP Mina

Yeah, I think if 3A was bullying someone, Aizawa would expel them
Hasn’t he expelled like a million kids

President Kiri

agreed

Manager Sero

Yeah

President Kiri

but what if he’s not being bullied there ?

VP Mina

Does he work?

Manager Sero

Yeah but I dont know where because I found out on accident

Member Denki

he works?!?!?!

VP Mina

So there?

President Kiri

uh ?  maybe
but i mean at home

Member Denki

idt he has a sib???

President Kiri

idt ?

VP Mina

He’s never mentioned one

Manager Sero

Idk I have a big bro I don’t really talk about

Member Denki

***i dont thing !!!

President Kiri

ty

VP Mina

Woah what?
Since when do you have a brother?

Manager Sero

Since always
I dont talk about him cause hes so much older than me

Member Denki

guys i wanna bro! it sounds cool!!!
other than the bullying thing ig

President Kiri

what do u guys think of it being his parents ?

VP Mina

That wouldn’t be bullying then, that’d be like abuse

Manager Sero

Has he said anything that made you think that

President Kiri

no but it would explain y baku acts the way he does

Member Denki

how???

President Kiri

this is all stuff i looked up so idk if its all correct
but this is the list of behaviors ppl who have abusive parents have most times that baku shares

President Kiri

-aggression
-anger
-hostility
-hyperactivity (him needing to run all the time)
-sleep problems
-nightmares
-becoming suddenly withdrawn
-isolation from peers
-lacks social skills
-has few or no friends
-abnormal behavior with school performance (how it has to be perfect)

President Kiri

the only ones he doesn’t show r
-sudden changes in personality
-changes in school performance
-seeming anxious
-having unusual fears
and this: “knowledge of adult issues appropriate for their age” which idk counts bc of how old he is

VP Mina

But that’s all stuff he could be hiding from us, like the anxiety and fears and stuff…

Manager Sero

Plus him only showing his personality as mad makes it easy for him not to slip up and act different

Member Denki

but he did act differently the other day!!! with Kiri!
he was nice :O

VP Mina

So add that to the list

Manager Sero

Ugh why aren’t we just asking him straight out again

Member Denki

bc he’d explode us!! >:(

President Kiri

no
its bc ppl who r abused wont b honest w other ppl about it for a reason
like their abuser make them scared to come forward
so we cant just ask him w/o triggering him

VP Mina

^^^Exactly

Manager Sero

So what do we do

Member Denki

this seems like a lose/lose for Bakubro

President Kiri

idk what we should do
n i dont want to involve aziawa either
maybe i could wiggle it out of him

VP Mina

We could all do it, since we’re all trying to be his friend again?

Manager Sero

Wait, hold on what if Kiri works on Bakugo while us three work on changing the class opinion like planned

Member Denki

Works for me!!!

President Kiri

ur so smart sero !
that’s actually a good plan

Manager Sero

I can take over Iida since I’m already talking to Urakaka

VP Mina

Why would that make it easier?

Manager Sero

Cause theyre dating

Member Denki

WHAT

Eijirou tosses over in bed, grumbling.

What can they really even do with this information, if it does get confirmed? Only Kaminari and Sero are adults right now, and Eijirou is only going to turn one in October—and it’s only April! So Bakugo just turned seventeen and won’t be an adult until next year.

He’s never felt more helpless to help someone else than he does right now.

They could tell Aizawa, but that would betray what Bakugo treats trust like, and he could never be his friend again, and even then, that might not help the problem if his parents are the problem, so then he might still be abused and have nobody he can trust.

How can he have a win here?

Nothing seems like the right thing to do.

He can’t sleep.

It’s the first night since first year that he can’t sleep at all . All Eijirou does is stare at the ceiling, thinking, frowning, until his alarm goes off. He’s the type of person who sets countless alarms on that little muscle armed clock of his, just to get up roughly an hour after the first one.

But this time he’s on his feet.

Eijirou sluggishly walks about his room, pulling on his clothes for the day, grabbing his toothbrush and paste, hair gel, and swings his door open just in time to see Bakugo heading back into his room. He’s up early, always, to go on a run and do something else before heading to class.

None of his friends are sure, since he’s always the last one in (unless someone is late) and the first one to leave the class—like he can’t get away from them fast enough. Honestly, it just makes the sentence isolation from peers ring around Eijirou’s head until he’s nauseous.

“Hey!” He shouts, really, before he even knows what he’s doing. “Bakugo!”

Bakugo’s shoulders hunch up towards his ears, tensing, his mouth in a snarl as he turns to look past his open door—pausing, and then rolls his eyes when he sees who it is. “Fuckin’ what .”

“Are you going on your morning run?” Eijirou asks, trying really hard to keep the pleading out of his eyes.

“What’s it to you, Shitty Hair?”

He bounces from foot to heel. “Can I come?”

“Brush your fuckin’ teeth.” Bakugo snaps. “I’m not waiting for you.”

But it’s not a no… 

He’ll take it!

Turns out Bakugo really wasn’t going to wait for Eijirou.

He genuinely brushed his teeth as fast as he could, slicked his hair up—ignored even conditioning it! In order to get on the run faster! A vital part of his hair routine!—and splashed some cold water on his face to wake up more before running back to his dorm room.

Bakugo passes him in the hallway on the way down and scoffs, but when Eijirou finally runs out of his room in basketball shorts and a tank top, the blond is waiting at the exit of UA’s doors, tying his shoes, killing time. He’s not pretending not to wait.

He’s just not acknowledging it either.

“Blasty!” Eijirou cheers (Mina says he acts drunk when he’s tired; also, he totally lacks a filter). “I’m glad I caught up!”

“Whatever.”

“How long do you go on a run for?” He starts to ramble. “You seem like one of those guys who go on like, an hour long run, but I also don’t know what kind of patience you have. You’re definitely physically fit enough to go on runs like that, but-”

“Thirty-five minutes.” Bakugo snaps, huffing. “I only run for thirty-five minutes.”

Eijirou tilts his head. “Why do you seem spiteful about that, dude? I only do twenty minutes or less when I run. That’s really good.”

Red eyes glare into the side of his head. “Shut up.”

That’s something about Bakugo too: he hates compliments. 

No compliment is good enough for his ego, nothing that Eijirou says gets through to him, he talks big about himself and acts like he’s bigger than life because he’s going to be the number one hero. You can’t call him athletic, because “Of course I am!” and god forbid anyone compliment something out of his control.

The one and only time Mina called him handsome, Bakugo quite literally blew a fuse.

Really, the only thing Bakugo will let people compliment is his quirk, and Eijirou thinks that’s because of what the pro hero thinks and definitely not because it’s Bakugo’s thing. It’s weird to think about the person with the biggest ego in all of 3-A is like this.

Has he always been like this?

“Fuckin’ snap out of, Shitty Hair!” Bakugo hisses, stomping a foot in his direction. 

Anyone else, it would be ridiculous and juvenile, but for Bakugo, it’s pure aggression—it’s a sort of warning of his, because he doesn’t like to reach out and touch anyone. And it’s kind of cute. Maybe. If Eijirou thought stuff like that. Which he doesn’t, of course.

“Sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back of his head, rocking back on his heels. “So, you wanna run?”

“Tch.” Bakugo rolls his eyes, standing straighter. “You’re one smart fuck, aren’t you.”

“Awh man.” He just pouts, but follows after the explosive boy when he takes off. 

Really, this is kind of like their first year.

 Just. Bakugo isn’t accepting it as much, he won’t put himself out there at all.It’s confusing. He’s just waiting for the rest of the Bakusquad to do anything, even then, he doesn’t really even act like he wants it. But he doesn’t act like he doesn’t want it either.

Eijirou really doesn’t know what to do about that—Katsuki Bakugo takes what he wants. That’s something that everyone knows. Bakugo is loud and willing and able to get everything he wants. Which, at first, just made him pull away from the Bakusquad—and he doesn’t know where to go from here.

So Eijirou just keeps running.

Blasty Protection Squad

President Kiri

rollcall

VP Mina

Here!

Manager Sero

Here

Member Denki

here!!! :)

President Kiri

went on a run w baku

Manager Sero

Can we meet after class

Member Denki

was about to ask the same thing !!
:O

VP Mina

Oh please tell me it went well

President Kiri

AZIAWA IS AWAKE

Member Denki

SHIT

Mr. Aizawa peeks at them from his sleeping bag, eye bags dark, looking over the class. Eijirou didn’t catch what it was that woke him up, but honestly, that’s probably a good thing if the heat that the left side of Todoroki, and not anyone—Aizawa, Eijirou, fuck, even Sero can’t react fast enough to stop what happens next.

Bakugo is grabbing Mineta by the back of his head and blasting him violently through the wall.

Alongside Eijirou, who hardens his whole body so fast it makes him a little light headed, the whole class seems to activate their quirks—he sees an electrical spike flick off of Kaminari in his panic, and accidentally hit Hagakure, if her floating clothes hitting the floor is anything to go by.

But Bakugo isn’t done.

He’s screaming something so deep and fast that it’s basically just vocal cords grating instead of words, and then he causes another explosion on top of him that causes Bakugo to catch him, and throw him so hard, passing all of them, shocked, that he breaks the window.

And falls down all three floors!

Towards the ground!

Aizawa really would’ve been able to react faster, if he wasn’t in the sleeping bag, so by the time he has his Binding Cloth out and shooting towards Mineta, so by the time they hear a thud! and his terrible little scream stops, he’s hitting the side of the first floor’s windows, probably scaring the shit out of 1-A.

“What… what happened?” Uraraka asked.

“My office now .” Aizawa growls out towards Bakugo, who explodes his desk and the door on his way out, fists clenched. “Iida, go get Recovery Girl, Uraraka, bring Mineta up, Ojiro, get the medical kit. I do believe that from blows like that, Mineta may… just do what I say!”

Everyone is frozen in their seat for one, maybe two more seconds, before bursting into action.

Iida and Uraraka burst into opposite directions, Ojiro dives towards the class closet, and Eijirou doesn’t know what to do. Because no way . No way did Bakugo just try to kill someone. Or. Not even try to kill him. Just… was so violent it didn’t seem like he cared if he did.

Todoroki is completely frozen in his seat when Kirishima turns back upon hearing Midoriya burst into tears.

“W-what?” Eijirou hears himself ask—completely dazed.

“Why would h-he do that for me?” Midoriya sobs.

Aizawa was always too lazy to change up the seating chart year to year from how they first were going in, which probably also prevented some more chatty friends from sitting together, however, people have moved around and the rows aren’t so much the same anymore.

But that also meant that Bakugo, Midoriya and Mineta were still sitting in a straight line.

While Aizawa is busy with Ojiro to try and treat Mineta—who’s passed out, and very, very badly exploded as well as cut with glass and having wounds from when he smacked into the side of the building—before Iida gets back with Recovery Girl, the Dekusquad surrounds Midoriya in a moment, like a shield, interrogating him.

But Kirishima sits next to Midoriya.

And as Asui goes to get in front of him, he just… puts his hardened hands on either side of Midoriya’s desk, stands up, and says “Tell me what happened.” in a voice that almost scares himself. He’s never seen Bakugo react like that. He’s exploded his desk, furniture, notebooks and other inanimate things.

But to go this far…

Midoriya is still crying and it does make Eijirou feel bad, it really, really does! Just—he’s far more concerned about Bakugo (because really, who is actually going to feel bad that Mineta’s hurt. Maybe if he dies but… Eijirou isn’t going to think about that.) than Midoriya.

Because Midoriya has all his friends surrounding him right now ready to help and support him, and stand up for him if he needs to.

But Bakugo has nobody.

“He… Mineta, he was… he was t-talking about, like, not liking t-the pride flags around for Pride Month and I-I told him that, that I think it’s actually… you know… really nice!” Midoriya sniffs. “And Mineta said that, he asked if, if I was a… a, one of those… those… I can’t say it!”

“Did he call you a name?” Todoroki asks, straight forward. “Or a slur?”

Even more tears gather in the green haired boy’s eyes. “T-the second one…”

Hands spiking out, skin hardening on reflex, Eijirou doesn’t even end up hearing the rest of the story. That’s all that he cares about—Class 3-A knows that Mineta is disgusting. They know. They just didn’t know that he was homophobic. Or willing to use that slur.

And honestly, Eijirou wouldn’t have hurt Mineta for saying that. 

He would have gone straight to Aizawa, he would have blasted it on social media, and warned his friends. But he’s not Bakugo. And he has no idea what part of what Bakugo heard that made him react so violently but he’s a little scared to figure it out.

Eijirou leaves the room in a rush, and only Kaminari seems to notice, if his shout of “Kiri, wait!” is anything to go by. But it’s one of those times where Eijirou has only one thing on his mind, and that one thing is going to be the only thing he does, says, or thinks about.

Right now, that’s Bakugo.

So he runs, follows the sears and soot marks on the walls, little remnants of his explosions, grabs his backpack where he finds it at the top of the stairs and jumps over the side, hardening his legs so landing is safe, and finally sees Bakugo’s blond spikes of hair turning out of the door.

“Bakugo!” Eijirou shouts, bolting out the doors, stumbling a bit.

“Go the fuck away, Shitty Hair!” He snarls over his shoulder, head down now, walking as fast as he can in the direction of the village. “Go cradle fuckin’ Shitty Deku as he fuckin’ cries like always. Call me if that purple grape fucker dies, or don’t fuckin’ talk to me at all!”

“C’mon, man,” Stumbling to catch up to Bakugo, Eijirou puts a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t try to kill him.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ care—get the fuck off me!” The blond throws an arm out, his blast harmless against Eijirou’s hardened chest as he takes a step back. “It isn’t your damn business!”

“Dude, take a breath.” Eijirou says, red eyes looking over Bakugo and catching the shake of his hands, the hardness of his breath, how it could be mistaken for anger in the lines of his face, the fists clenched at his side, hell, his entire body language. “You’re freaking out.”

“I am—the fuck you—leave me alone!”

Blasts echo all around them, and they’re all off-center; either missed or weren’t aimed. No. They weren’t aimed. Bakugo doesn’t miss, he’d be insulted that someone could even think he would. Sometimes, when Bakugo is actually angry like this, Eijirou wonders what he can call the other emotion.

Because it doesn’t seem fake—but it’s not real anger, either.

There’s no right word for it.

Hardening stalling out alongside the explosions, Eijirou lowers his defenses and stops advancing on Bakugo, letting him decide if he’s actually going to accept the help or not. Choosing is important for Bakugo, Eijirou already knows that much about him.

“Look dude, how about we just go on another run and if you wanna talk about it, we can talk about it, or yell, or spar, or whatever you need— want ,” He immediately corrects, because as Bakugo would say he ‘doesn’t need anything’ or whatever. “We can do it.”

Bakugo stares at him hard.

It’s a little unnerving, yeah, but Eijirou knows that whatever the explosive boy throws at him, he can take. And sure, he can’t run as fast or long or hard as him. He can’t push himself and run himself like a military base like he does. But Eijirou is the only one in this whole school who has a compatible quirk with Katsuki Bakugo.

He can take it.

“Fuckin’ fine.” Bakugo growls, rolling up his sleeves. “Hit me.”

Eijirou balks, just a bit. “Right here?”

“If you’re going to pussy out just say-”

“No! No, it’s fine! Just—can’t you go more full out in a training room? Like. A explosion-proof training room? Last time you went full out on campus ground, didn’t you make a meteor hole or something?” The redhead tilts his head to the side. “We can run there, lock the door, if that would make you feel better—if that’s what you want.”

He remembers the hole it left when Bakugo used his Howitzer against Midoriya and Iida the last time he trained against them.

‘Cause holy shit.

If Bakugo needs to go all out, Eijirou would also prefer to be around a water fountain as well. Because while Eijirou starts sweating and tired, he never shows any sign of stopping, even when his arms are shaking from the pain of causing so many explosions.

That’s something that Eijirou always admired about Bakugo, that he doesn’t need to stop, can push his body past what should be possible, and then show up the next day and do it all again, and again, and again on repeat. He truly is going to be the best hero.

It’s equal parts fascinating and worrying.

Because doesn’t that hurt?

“Then what the fuck are you waiting around here for, Shitty Hair.” Bakugo growls, grabbing his backpack roughly from Eijirou, even though the strap starts to steam where it touches his open palm, knocking against his shoulder as he goes past, back towards the building. “Let’s fuckin’ go.”

Quickly, he follows after him, skin reflexively hardening any time that Bakugo turns to look—glare—back at him, in case his patience wears out.

Anything to help a friend!

Chapter Text

While only Kaminari has gotten through Asui enough to make her try and apologize again (a step in the wrong direction regarding Bakugo’s pride), and Sero has managed to get Iida and Uraraka alone enough to start positive talk about the explosive boy, Mina hasn’t been able to crack Todoroki at all.

On top of that, Eijirou has still had a tough time getting close to Bakugo. 

He still glares at him, avoids them all, and now only comes into the common room when the Bakusquad is there and Asui isn’t . Only some mornings does he ‘agree’ that Eijirou can go on his morning runs, never invites him, but the redhead has no idea what makes the difference.

If he could figure out why some mornings were okay, he’d abuse that knowledge for sure.

When the redhead called his mom about this—because she’s just always the one he can go to, no matter what it is or how embarrassing—she just huffed and he could imagine her rolling her eyes. She’s a psychologist, so it should have been no surprise what she said next.

“Ei, you know what I told you growing up!” This was almost a chide, but more informational than anything. “Anger is just a secondary emotion. There is always something underneath it, a fear or anxiety, sometimes even joy that comes out sideways. Affection, too. So this boy, what’s his name?”

“Bakugo.” He quickly informs.

His mom gasps. “The sludge kid?”

“The what kid?” Eijirou can’t believe what he’s hearing. Sure, Bakugo has been called a lot in front of him. Explodo guy. Murder ball. Hot Blond In the Wrong Way. Angry child. Problem Child Number Two. Then the even worse ones, but never has he been called the sludge kid before.

Eijirou feels cheated, in a weird way.

How would Bakugo react to that being said to his face?

“The sludge kid! I think it happened about a year or so before you started UA, some kid got taken by a sludge monster. Everyone was surprised that he was alive, the sludge totally invaded his body, down his throat, all around him, he could barely breathe. The kid blew up a whole block in his panic to get it off of him. All Might captured it.”

Oh. Eijirou did hear about that, it does sound familiar.

Just, he had no clue that was Bakugo

He’s heard Midoriya talk about it before, cause it happened around his neighborhood, and ran into it for a minute before All Might stopped it and it got away (Midoriya has a lot of battle stories for not being at battle before UA) but he’s never mentioned Bakugo’s role.

Which really, probably has more to do with what Bakugo would do to him if Midoriya went around talking about the time he was the trigger that saved Bakugo’s life. Eijirou is pretty sure that Bakugo would actually rather have died back then than be saved by the green haired boy.

Still—Bakugo? Lost to a sludge monster?

Well, that was like twelve year old Bakugo, who was just as angry but definitely not as powerful. Still, the fact that he blew up a whole block out of panic, is just… no wonder he doesn’t like being tied up so much! He had a panic attack like that when the teachers muzzled him up too!

It just feels a little ridiculous in the bad way that a trauma like that could happen because of sludge . It’s laughable, but it also makes him want to cry, just a bit.

“Ei?” His mom questions—telling him he went just a little too quiet.

He forces a grin, even though she can’t see him. “I’m here! Yeah, I guess that same kid.”

“And why are you interested in helping him so much?” When she says this, he can hear the suggestion tone in her voice from a mile away, and it makes him groan. She’s always been able to sniff out his crushes like a bloodhound; the curses of having an emotionally intelligent parent.

“Mom!” Eijirou bemoans. “Don’t even go there! I’m just… everyone doesn’t really like him much, ‘cause of the anger thing. He can be mean, I guess.”

“You always were one to take on impossible jobs.” She says. “Just remember-”

“Don’t set myself on fire to keep someone else warm, I know.” He sighs. 

And Eijirou does. He just thinks Bakugo would be worth it—

To burn, he means.

“It says here—” Iida says, tapping his paper. 

They’re all, literally everyone, save for Mineta (who’s still in recovery; Eijirou would honestly be surprised if he comes back) in the common room studying together. Aizawa enforced together study time because of what happened, as if forcing Bakugo to have more social interaction would decrease the chances of him being violent.

“—that we need four hugs a day for survival,” Shoji starts to count on his many fingers while Iida speaks, which makes Kirishima grin in the corner of his mouth. “Eight for maintenance and twelve  for growth.”

The class devolves into commotion, Midoriya ends up hugging Uraraka and Todoroki at the same time, Sero gathers Mina up in his arms and it makes Eijirou regret ever giving the green light for their PDA, and he’s pretty sure that Iida start developing some sort of board to keep track of hugs.

Honestly, it would be amusing, how serious everyone seems about it, if Eijirou doesn’t turn to ask Kaminari if he’s gotten enough bro-love lately, only to hear this:

“Hey, Baku,” Mina inquires, not trying to be judgemental, but Eijirou can easily see how Bakugo might take it that way—especially since she’s ‘questioning’ him in front of all of 3-A. “When was the last time that someone hugged you? I, like, can’t remember. I know when others have thrown themselves on you, but it’s never been a real hug, y’know.”

That’s true, even Mina and Eijirou themselves, as the ones that Bakugo is closest to, have just put their arm(s) around him briefly, or even not so briefly, if it’s after a bad mission or exam. He’s never put his arms around them back, just snapped at them to get off or ignored them.

But he’s never told them explicitly to stop, like he’ll do with other things. Before, it was just assumed that’s because he likes his friends and wants to do things they want—like letting them hug him, and be nice, just because it was something he could do that was explicitly ‘nice’.

As others would say, he has a reputation to maintain.

Eijirou has always just thought that Bakugo doesn’t like physical contact. 

But after everything, like most things lately, he’s second guessing that—maybe Bakugo just doesn’t know how to enjoy physical affection, because he’s never had it. A lot of abused kids are like that, right? Something about being touch starved.

That’s the correction word, right?

“Fuck is it to you, Raccoon Eyes?” Bakugo rolls his eyes, sinking down further into his chair.

Midoriya frowns, and as sporadic as the knowledge that Eijirou has about their history, he knows when Midoriya’s gotten a whiff of something serious. His fingers always twitch like he wants to write something down, and Todoroki eyes him like a hawk. The nerd meets Eijirou’s eyes knowingly, and he raises a black eyebrow back.

“Kacchan…” Midoriya starts slowly.

Bakugo immediately scowls, teeth baring. “ What? ”

It’s telling that he’s already defensive.

“I can’t remember any time that-”

“Shut up, Shitty Deku.”

This is when Eijirou knows that something else is wrong now, too, because Bakugo isn’t interrupting Midoriya with an insult just because he can (really, it is typical, not that Eijirou likes it, but he’s not going to butt into their relationship)—he’s interrupting because he doesn’t want Midoriya to say something about loud.

“You’ve known each other since you guys were kids, right?” Sero asks, and the green haired boy confirms it with a nod. “Was he a cuddle bug growing up? Oh my god, did he cry a lot? Is he nice to his parents? Do you have any baby pictures? That’ll be like a goldmine.”

“Um. I value my life…” Midoriya responds, chuckling uneasily, rubbing the back of his head as Bakugo glares. “But yeah, we have!”

“When’s the last time that you saw him hug someone?” Todoroki questions bluntly, sharp, blue eye almost glowing.

Yeesh.

“I am right fuckin’ here if you have a dumbass question, Half ‘n Half!”

But before Bakugo’s distraction of picking a fight wins out, Midoriya is already replying with an uneasy laugh, saying “Never.” before he starts to mutter about how that’s probably not statistically correct because they were four so lapses in memory, and then didn’t get along for a while, and blah, blah, blah.

Kaminari gaps at Bakugo. “Damn, Bakubro, if Iida’s right,” He jokes. “How are you alive?”

A storm is brewing in those red eyes within a moment. “I will kill you.”

“No, seriously!” The electric boy continues, unaware of the way others are staring in concern. “If people need four hugs a day to even survive, shouldn’t you have died years ago? Literally, like? When was the last time someone hugged you? I can give you a hug! Get you up to the bar!”

“If you touch me, I will fuckin’ explode you, you stupid shitty Dunce Face.”

Likes he’s been in the habit of doing so much lately, Eijirou takes the time to peel back the anger before responding or brushing it off as just Bakugo being Bakugo (even while Uraraka scolds him and Sero rolls his eyes).

Every single time someone has touched him, it has been met with a threat or him actually detonating against them. But what if it wasn’t a threat…? What if it was some sort of warning. With hands like those, he’d be scared to touch people too. Eijirou can hear Bakugo’s voice in the back of his head snapping out I’m not fuckin’ scared, Shitty Hair, fuck off! and smiles in spite of it.

“It’s your quirk, right?” He finds himself asking.

He receives a terrible red glare. “ What .” Bakugo seethes.

“Your quirk, you don’t like hugging people because of it?”

“Sure.” He agrees. “Fuckin’ whatever.”

Eijirou doesn’t believe that. “Whatever?”

“It means I fuckin’ agree, Shitty Hair.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised that Bakugo has ever been hugged in his life.” Todoroki says. “He acts like someone who was locked in a room until he was fifteen.”

“Say that to my fuckin’ face, you shitty Canadian Flag lookin’ ass,” Bakugo seethes, hands steaming.

“Statistically speaking, he should be even less socially adequate if he was touched that little as a child.” Iida frowns. “However, it would make sense. Personalities develop by the time someone is six, by now, it is a part of Bakugo. That is why he can experience personal growth without proper social or physical contact.”

It seems like they’re reaching a breaking point, a good conversation is now turning into something that’s starting to be a pick-on-Bakugo time, which he could have handled in first year, but he seems like he’s about to spin out right now, and Eijirou doesn’t want that.

A pop-pop sounds out. “The fuck you say about me, Four Eyes? I’ll kill you!”

“Wait, Bakugo has had personal growth?” Uraraka says, brown eyes looking over to Todoroki, skipping past Midoriya’s frown. “He hides it well from me, and I’m used to things going over my head.”

“Stop with the fuckin’ puns, if you’re going to insult me, Round Face, then do it fuckin’ intelligently because right now you’re speaking like you only know how to write with shitty blue crayons.”

“Your commitment to cursing is nothing short of amusing.” Todoroki comments.

“Your commitment to pissing me off is fuckin’ annoying.” Bakugo snaps back.

Suddenly, without warning at all, Midoriya blurts out “Five.” and then he slaps his hands over his mouth as both squads turn to look at him, but still continues with, “If Kacchan stopped hugging people when he got his quirk, then he was five.”

Bakugo explodes the pencil he’s holding and stands, clearly pissed off. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Shitty Deku! If you keep talking about me, I’ll blast you to hell and back! Shut that stupid mouth of yours before I shut it for you!”

Todoroki ices Bakugo’s hand where it’s resting on the common room table between the explosive boy and Midoriya, and in retaliation, Bakugo raises his hand and detonates against Todoroki’s chest so fast, the other can only raise half an ice shield, which shatters easily.

Eijirou is frozen.

The last time that Bakugo was hugged was when he was five. 

That’s just—that’s so sad to Eijirou for no reason, given Bakugo seems fine with it. 

“Woah… you were that dangerous?” Kaminari asks airily, but seems a bit awed. Any other time, it would have been a compliment.

It makes sense, he guesses, when Bakugo’s quirk was developing, it probably was dangerous to get so close to him, especially since his mom is basically radioactive and his dad’s hands explode without control too, so his own family was probably more dangerous than strangers.

He just has this image of Bakugo in preschool, suddenly not being allowed to touch anyone.

Just— god . 

Was he ever treated like an actual human or did people always look at him and see either a villain or a hero? Was he a kid? Does he remember being normal? What kind of kid doesn’t get hugged? What kind of kid doesn’t get hugged even after his quirk was controllable?

Why Bakugo is mad is starting to make more and more sense.

Eijirou’s quirk is dangerous too, he can cut himself and others, since he was just a little kid, but nobody is afraid to go around him, to touch or hug him, and unlike Bakugo, his whole body is like this, it’s not just his hands. Why did nobody ever stop hugging him? 

Does the anger play a part, Eijirou can’t imagine Bakugo was already mad at five, or was the place he was raised, telling him he’s better, but they didn’t know that right when his quirk developed, or his family, but why would his family not want to hug a five year old?

What exactly goes into the making of Katsuki Bakugo?

Eijirou looks up with watering eyes. “Bakugo.” He says, pulling on his sleeve, just as Bakugo goes to lunge at Todoroki, who is equally geared up for a fight even as his face is passive as ever, his hand hardens around the other’s wrist. “Bakugo, Bakugo .”

“ What the fuck do you want ?” Bakugo practically yells right at Eijirou, but something flicks across his face that’s certainly not anger when he sees Eijirou. This isn’t manly at all! “The fuck is wrong with you? You look fuckin’ sick, get the hell off me!”

He does so, instantly.

“Come with me!” Eijirou says, before he really knows what he’s doing, stumbling past the couch.

“Right after I blast fuckin’ Icy Hot hard enough to give him flashbacks.” Bakugo snaps.

And it’s a cruel thing to say, it really, truly is. 

The truth about Todoroki’s parents got out in second year and very few people mention it, understanding that what Endeavor put him through is so serious and difficult to navigate that nobody has said even an off handed comment, and everyone avoids comparing him to the pro ‘hero’ or asking him about his left side.

Exactly everyone.

Yet Bakugo said it anyway.

And nothing that Eijirou says is going to change that or make it better for Todoroki, who’s entire right arm ices over, clearly angry, even as Midoriya starts to pull on his arm. All that Eijirou can think when he looks at Bakugo is, why does he think he has the right?

There’s something Bakugo has spit out before—right at someone from B-2 when they said that the girls complain too much about harassment—with enough venom in his mouth to make Eijirou harden reflexively, readying for a fight: if it’s not fuckin’ something that’s yours, don’t open your stupid mouth about it .

Does that count here?

Are the admittedly major things that came out about how Todoroki was raised something that Bakugo can relate to? Is that why he’s saying it? Or is this one of those times where Bakugo is just spitting out whatever poison will come from his mouth, hoping it hits harder than his explosions do?

God—Eijirou just wishes he could read Bakugo’s mind sometimes.

An ice shard shoots out towards Bakugo but Uraraka slaps it out of the air, making it float into the sky, shouting something about how Bakugo needs to leave and Todoroki hurting him won’t do any good, but all that Eijirou hears is the blood between his ears, and he’s standing in front of Bakugo, back hardened, ready to take the hit.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ protection, Shitty Hair!”

This is said before Bakugo storms off, fists smoking, blasting every pot he sees on the way from the common room to the stairs, which he also blasts the door open to. Everything is silent for a moment, both groups breathing heavily, and it’s Kaminari who breaks the silence.

“Am I the one that said something wrong?”

Eijirou doesn’t stick around to find out.

Chapter Text

“Bakugo, hey Bakugo! Dude!” Eijirou pounds at his door, he has half a mind to just harden his hands and break through. The thought is quickly dispersed. “Let me in, man, c’mon. Snapping at Todoroki like that is so not manly, or heroic. I just want to know-”

“What? What could you possibly want to fuckin’ know now?” Suddenly the door flies open so fast it almost hits Eijirou, causing him to stumble  back. “It’s none of your goddamn business anything I do, I don’t fuckin’ know why you act like it is!”

“Because I’m your friend.” He replies, as strong and gently as he could. This is something he can’t waiver on, if Bakugo sees it, at all, it’ll be like Kaminari’s slip up all over again. And they’re just starting to do small things together again, too! “Friends care.”

“I’m not your fuckin’ friend!” Bakugo yells, and goes to close his door, but Eijirou sticks a hardened hand between it and the doorframe, making it bounce off harmlessly, and as the blond goes to turn to him, he stands up to his full height and barges past him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I am your friend, whether you like it or not. I know you’re my friend, and Kaminari, and Mina, and Sero’s too. All four of us.”

“Wow, you’re the special kind of fuckin’ stupid, aren’t you?” He snarls, hands fisting. But Eijirou can take everything that he throws at him, he can . “I am not your friend. I don’t fuckin’ text you, or call you. I don’t do jack-shit with you. I don’t like you . Get it through your head that I am not your fuckin’ friend .”

Eijirou’s jaw clenches. 

This hurts, it really does. He’s never had a friendship that hurt like this, never had a friend that talks to him like Bakugo does. But the point is that he doesn’t give up on people. He will burn, to keep Bakugo warm. He won’t even hesitate.

“You came back.”

“Eh? The fuck?”

The redhead crosses his arms. “When you thought I needed you, you came.”

Bakugo growls, literally growls. That’s something Eijirou used to get hung up on—that when you really piss Bakugo off, he acts like an animal. “It was a fuckin’ emergency and I’m a hero, that’s what a good hero does. It’s the fuckin’ job description and you aren’t fuckin’ special.”

“But when Tsu sent out an emergency text because her curtains were on fire, you didn’t help her.”

“Because she has that fuckin’ idiot with the ice powers living on her same level, why the fuck would I waste time helping her when—it doesn’t matter!” Bakugo seems to realize this is a losing fight, and grabs Kirishima’s arm, trying to force him to the door. “Get out!”

Eijirou kicks the door close when he’s close enough and then hardens his legs, digging his toes into his shoes, not letting himself get pushed farther. “Can I hug you?” He takes a shot in the dark.

“Get the fuck out of my room! I don’t fuckin’ want you in here!”

“No, bro, I care about you. Can I hug you?”

“Why the fuck would I spend any time doing that? Get out!”

“Because you really need it, dude. Look at you—”

“What the fuck does that mean-”

“—you’re mad just because they’re questioning you about it!”

Bakugo practically slams Eijirou against his door, making him flinch. He didn’t expect him to use more strength, or do this, so he didn’t harden in time. “Stop talking! That’s not why I’m fuckin’ mad! This ain’t any of your business, you’re wasting your time here!”

“I’m not wasting my time, you’re worth every second of my time, Bakugo!” His hands stay raised defensively, but Eijirou is always going to fight back, one way or another. “I am your friend, I care about you-”

“You’re wasting oxygen just like you’re wasting your energy.” He sneers.

But Eijirou believes that there’s a reason he’s not pulling away.

“And I’ll keep wasting it on you.” His head hits the back of the door, staring down at the blond, red to red, deactivating his quirk. “Can I hug you?”

“Fuck no! Get away from me.” Snarling, the explosive boy finally peels away as Eijirou’s hands twitch towards him—probably thinking he’ll do it even if he says no, and with his quirk, it’d be impossible to get away. “What is wrong with you?”

“Then tell me why you’re mad at least.” He offers a middle ground.

Bakugo doesn’t take it, just crosses his arms angrily. “It isn’t your damn business.”

“Let me care about you!” Eijirou says—shouts—exasperated.

Explosions ring out as Bakugo throws his hands up, but with all his stuff either fire/explosion proof, sprayed with neutralizer or washed in the stuff, or shit he doesn’t care about, he doesn’t seem to be worried about blasting anything on accident, willing to let his anger go free.

“What is the fuckin’ point!”

One, two, three , Eijirou counts. He realizes the moments things get too much for him, recognizes the ugly feeling in his gut that means he needs space from whatever is making him upset. But this is Bakugo. And this is big. So he breathes out, slowly, three, two, one .

“Sit down.” He says, and Bakugo’s rage seems to short-circuit.

After a moment, he’s back to glaring. “Who do you think-”

“Sit down right now , Katsuki Bakugo, or I will make you.”

Something happens in Bakugo, something jerks in his shoulders and his eyes widen, just a bit. Eijirou can’t understand if it's a good reaction—him realizing that Eijirou is serious—or a bad reaction—like some sort of reflex; an undisclosed trigger.

But either way, after only a moment of staring, another moment of challenging him still, Bakugo sits on his bed. “Lock the fuckin’ door so those extras can’t get in.”

It’s not necessary, since he’s pretty sure exactly nobody out there has a death wish, but Eijirou hears his mom’s voice in his head, talking about the need for control for the people who have none, and what that looks like. He’s smart enough to recognize a desperate grasp for power, any of it.

So he gives in, and does as asked, and hears the lock click behind him.

The adrenaline in his system starts to die out; something about the adrenaline for friends and anxiety can never compare to the adrenaline of a fight. He’ll push himself ten times harder for Bakugo than he ever could just because he’s asked to, but he’ll still push himself either way, for himself.

That’s what Eijirou thinks is important.

“I’m your friend and right now, I care about you the most. And I’m stubborn. You can’t get rid of me, I’m the one person you can’t blast away.” Eijirou says, and sits on the floor in front of Bakugo—giving him the higher ground; the advantage. “Talk to me.”

“Literally go die.” Bakugo snaps, pulling his feet away from Eijirou almost like an act of defiance, but obviously has no idea that bringing his knees up to his chin like that makes him look small.

“I can make you talk, I know all your buttons and I know the right questions to ask.” And he’s willing to, too. He needs answers. “But I would really rather you just talk to me anyway.”

“Anything I fuckin’ tell you, you’ll just go and tell those idiots—” Mina, Sero, Kaminari, as he knows. “—and those fuckin’ idiots will go and tell all those damn extras and it will be the only thing I hear about for the next month. No fuckin’ thank you.”

He peels back the anger. It’s quick work in a setting like this.

Bakugo is a private person, and he’s worried that his vulnerability will be shared, that nothing can be kept secret. Trust is something important to him, so he’s basically asking Eijirou if he can trust him, in a convoluted sort of way—because he knows that the redhead is honest.

If he says he won’t say anything, he won’t, and vice versa.

“I won’t tell anyone what you say without permission.” Eijirou raises his hands, crossing a finger over his heart. “And hope to die.” He finishes out loud.

He can make out “Fuckin’ wish you would right now.” through the grumbling.

Seeing Bakugo relax a little, Eijirou finally lets out a breath. “That was a promise.”

“Whatever.” He says, but that’s Bakugo for ‘thanks’ so it’s something.

“So… why are you angry?” The redhead presses, because he thinks if he doesn’t keep moving on, he’ll go stagnant, lose steam and stop being so strong. He’s always one to do what his friends want, but this isn’t a moment where he can do that and walk away feeling good.

Bakugo stares at Eijirou like he’s grown about five new heads.

“Bakugo… why were you angry?”

He’s the picture of silence.

“Dude, something has to give.” Eijirou says, and resists the urge to hold onto one of his legs like he would Sero—he’s a tactile dude, and even more so when he’s upset. “You have to trust someone. I’m a good option. No real man goes around blabbing someone else’s secrets or-”

“I’m fuckin’ thinking, let me think!” Bakugo snaps, and Eijirou’s mouth clamps shut, shark teeth digging into his bottom lip. “Ask me… fuck. If you tell anyone…”

“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “I won’t.”

“Ask me specific fuckin’ questions.”

That is actually something that Eijirou can do—something that he can work with. If that is what Bakugo needs, for it to be like a quiz, Eijirou can do that. “Why are you angry this time?”

“Because it’s not my fuckin’ fault I have this quirk, and it wasn’t my decision what I got or what I didn’t, so it’s not their fuckin’ place to look at me like I’m some sort of deranged monster. It isn’t their damn business what I do, fuck what Iida said. I’m fuckin’ fine and I can be social if I want.”

“Why did you say what would the point be?”

His jaw clenches, and Eijirou starts to worry about the distant look in Bakugo’s eyes. Is he… actually not okay? Did he push him too far? He doesn’t even know he tells of being pushed too far, because all of Bakugo’s main reactions are just his normal anger.

“What’s the point of caring about me?” Bakugo asks in reply—but it’s a question he’s apparently prepared to answer himself. “All I’ll fuckin’ do is leave you in the dust or hurt you, because I’m fuckin’ better and I’m going pro no matter what. I don’t need you. Piss off.”

Eijirou frowns. “I don’t… I don’t need you either, but I want you.” God. That sounds so… wrong, out loud. Bakugo seems to think so too, because he snarls. “Not like that! As a friend, as like, I want to actually know you, and stuff. Maybe be as close as first year, if anything.”

“ What ,” Bakugo stresses. “Is the point ?”

“God, dude, you’re acting like you’ve never had a friend before.” Eijirou says before he can stop himself, and is almost winded by the way that the explosive boy is staring at him. Like he’s suddenly made of glass (angry glass, but still). “I thought that Midoriya…?”

“He wasn’t my fuckin’ friend! We just had playdates so my parents could pawn him off on his mom, then he followed me around like a damn stalker to learn about my quirk. We weren’t ever friends, the only reason he knows any damn thing about me is because the idiot pays a stupid amount of attention to things that aren’t his business .”

Bakugo’s fists clench.

And Eijirou doesn’t know what to do with that information.

“So you…” He lets out a breath. “Before first year, you didn’t have a friend?”

A flush starts at Bakugo’s ears, bright and maybe even angry, and he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “Why do you act so fuckin’ surprised? Nobody at that good for nothin’ school was worthy of being my friend, not a single damn one of them.”

Especially Deku hangs in the air between them.

He ignores it.

Deflection from Bakugo typically means the correct answer is the most ‘embarrassing’ one, which means that Eijirou’s assumption is correct. He didn’t have a friend before them, and he’s also trying his hardest to make it so he won’t have a friend after them, either.

“Do you…” He gulps. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Teach me what? How to be fuckin’ annoying like you? Pass.”

Eijirou shakes his head. “How to be friends with someone.”

“I don’t want to be a part of that dumbass group of yours.” Bakugo snaps.

“Yet.” The redhead replies cheekily. “And I was just talking about me.”

“And why the fuck would I want you to do that? I’m content like this.”

A moment passes, and then another one, and then Eijirou asks “Is that the truth?” in the driest voice he could, keeping out any inch of accusation. Eugh, he sounds like Todoroki.

Bakugo’s jaw clenches, his fists clench, and he seethes. “I can be content like this if you clusterfucks stop bothering me all the time.”

“Isn’t it lonely?”

“I’ve always been alone. I don’t fuckin’ need anyone.”

“Yeah but,” He pouts, realizing they’re kind of going in circles. “Isn’t that lonely?”

“Being lonely implies someone is fuckin’ missing somethin’ like there’s a hole there, and nobody can miss something that they have never fuckin’ had, how much clearer do I have to say that before it gets through that shitty hair of yours and into that damn head.”

Okay, this is getting them nowhere. Eijirou switches tactics.

“Why’d you say that to Todoroki?”

“Which fuckin’ part?” Bakugo asks, before backtracking—he never does like playing stupid, unless it’s going to be a genuine advantage, even then he doesn’t like being less than. “I don’t fuckin’ know, to get my point across.”

“What happened to ‘if it isn’t yours, don’t talk about it’?” Something switches on Bakugo’s face, and Eijirou isn’t sure what. His lips twitch, but he says nothing. “Did you just… forget that’s one of your rules? Like in the heat of the argument, I mean.”

Silence again. He isn’t sure when it’ll be broken.

Eijirou shifts how he’s sitting to have his legs under him, and waits, not giving an inch. He’s content to wait because he knows that Bakugo isn’t content to give.

Listen, he isn’t dumb. He knows what he did—knows that he just boxed Bakugo in. 

Because Bakugo can’t admit that it is his to talk about without admitting more than just that, and he can’t say the opposite if it’s not true, but if it’s not true, then he’d already say that. So here Bakugo is, stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Eijirou tenses.

Katsuki Bakugo does not do well when he’s boxed.

He implodes, to a starling and drastic amount. He’d rather take himself and everyone else down around him then let someone else finish the job. He’d rather give everything, than just a single inch. And Eijirou knows this, so he realizes that right now, this is too much.

“Just… can you try not to say something like that again?” Eijirou says, letting it go. Then, because he knows that Bakugo won’t concede for Todoroki’s sake (and hopes he will for Eijirou’s). “It just… it makes me a bit uncomfortable, and sad.”

“Fine.” Bakugo growls. “Now get out.”

“Wait but-”

“You asked all fuckin’ possible questions about what just happened and I answered every single one—” Until he didn’t. “—which means you got exactly what you wanted. So get out.”

Eijirou doesn’t move. The finger pointed towards the door means nothing to him. “Will you let me be your friend again?”

Bakugo’s whole body twitches. “What’s the damn point this time?”

“Because I want to.” And it shouldn’t be a good enough reason, really.

But then the explosive boy is sighing. “Fine.”

“You’ll let me like, talk to you and help you out? Do friend things.”

“I said fine, Shitty Hair, are you fuckin’ deaf?”

That’s basically permission right there!

“Really?”

“If you get out.”

“Shake on it.”

“You have five seconds.”

He only needs three. 

Is it an easy decision, really, to exchange the moment where he’s in control of the impossible boy, where he can make him answer, mostly, for a semi-agreeable friendship, where he could get countless much more feel-good moments to share? It’s a no brainer.

Walking out of the room though, he feels the opposite of manly. It feels like letting a bro down. Because he did see Bakugo’s hands shaking, clenching against his thighs with that far away look still in his eyes. And he chose not to do anything about it.

“Some hero.” He scoffs out, kicking his shoe against the floor.

Chapter Text

Bakugo has always stuck out to Eijirou.

And sticking out is important to Eijirou. It’s why he likes Crimson Riot, why he likes his hair and costume and doesn’t really like his quirk so much. All of his insecurities stem from what Bakugo seems to do effortlessly, with his quirk and personality and just… everything .

Obviously, everyone in 3-A wants to be a hero, even those that should do something better with their quirk and time. But it’s different with Bakugo, he just doesn’t want to be a hero, he is so damn sure that he’s going to be one that Eijirou has never once questioned that he shouldn’t.

It’s even different from the way he knows that Deku is going to be a pro hero.

Because Midoriya has this self sacrificing thing, where his body doesn’t give him a choice. He has to run into the battle, his feet are ready for it before his mind or quirk are. With Bakugo, it’s a choice. It’s a decision every day that he’s going to be on the right side of this damn war.

He has to make his feet move, prepare his mind and quirk.

That’s the kind of hero that Eijirou will put himself behind every single time, because Bakugo gives up and he knows his limits and when you think he’s pushing them, he just treats it like another challenge to overcome and he overcomes it every single time.

Eijirou has always been excited to match him.

“Let me hang around you for a week.” Eijirou asks—demands—of Bakugo, who looks up from his desk with a glare. With Aizawa sleeping, everyone quickly devolved into study groups according to who needs the help in what glass. Eijirou, who needs help in French, declines Aoyama in favor of Bakugo.

He’s weirdly good at it, but he did test out in first year, so it’s no surprise.

“Why the fuck should I?” Bakugo scoffs. “Piss off.”

“Because spending time around one another is the way that people become friends!” Pointing this out, he sits right on Bakugo’s desk and doesn’t bother to stand up when his hand twitches. “And you totally agreed to be my friend. Like first year! I saw you over here, sitting so manly, so I got together a plan.”

Red eyes roll towards the ceiling. “And what is that?”

“Being around you for a week!” He reiterates.

“When I tell you to go away, you better fuckin’ go away, Shitty Hair.” Bakugo grumbles, shoving him off his desk, causing Eijirou to stumble to his feet. “Don’t make me regret this. Now fuck off.”

The week goes as follows:

On the first day, Bakugo lets Eijirou go on a run with him and helps him study for English on opposite sides of Eijirou’s futon. He still refuses to eat with everyone else, but he takes a pocky on the way to god knows where when Eijirou offers it to him in the middle of the hall.

Better than nothing, right?

Besides, who doesn’t like pocky’s?

The second day, Bakugo waits for him before starting the run, gives him a protein shake he didn’t ask for and scolds him for how loudly he drinks it. In class, he still just stares at the board and only speaks (yells) when someone says something to him, but he lets Eijirou sit on his desk and talk to Mina and Sero for the half hour nap Aizawa takes.

The third day, Bakugo isn’t in his room or in the common showers, he’s nowhere to be found until Eijirou runs half the trail and finds him sitting against a tree—crouching, arms hanging down in front of his knees, panting. It makes him nervous, finding Bakugo like that. Like he’s fresh off a panic attack.

“Bro, you don’t look good.”

“Well fuck you too.” Bakugo snaps.

Eijirou notes how pale his friend is, and anxiety makes him clench his teeth. “Have you eaten?”

He stands, wipes sweat off his face and snarls “Kiss my ass.” before starting to run again.

On the fourth day, the explosive boy waits for him again but they devolve into a fight, rolling around with blasts and the redhead’s laughter until Bakugo’s panting is against Eijirou’s ear and he’s cackling because even though his entire outfit is destroyed, god, it feels so good to just have a friendly spar again—

When Bakugo takes to rolling around in the dirt even though he doesn’t need to get on the ground just to pick a fight, and smirks instead of snarls, he’s having a good day. And Eijirou is proud! Because he’s part of the reason that Bakugo is having a good day.

That’s all he wanted all week!

That day, Bakugo gives him some of his sushi leftovers saying something along the lines of not being bothered to finished them and he better fucking appreciate it, and Eijirou really, really does—the whole time Kaminari stares at him jealously, but doesn’t move to take him.

Even when it’s in someone else’s possession, Katsuki Bakugo’s food is apparently sacred.

Eijirou plans to take advantage of that.

Then, the fifth day is the first time it’s the weekend when they’re together. 

They go and do some exercise before and after Bakugo’s morning and night run, which the explosive boy makes Eijirou go on by grabbing him by the back of the neck when he’s talking to Kaminari and Jiro and just… pulling him outside. Bakugo doesn’t share his food, but he does make twice as much as he needs so Eijirou can have the leftovers he quote,  “Can’t be assed to eat.”

It’s spicy noodles and veggies, ones that make Eijirou sweat enough to feel like the manliness is both metaphorically and literally seeping out of him, but he eats them anyway.

And the sixth day… 

Bakugo doesn’t come out of his room at all. 

At least, not when anyone else could tell. Mina, at one point, was stalking the hall to try and get a glimpse of that blond head, but it was like he knew—which was why Sero told her to not talk to him on the phone why trying to stalk Bakugo, of all people.

Eijirou knocking doesn’t work at all. There is no answer to anything he throws at the door, whether he’s being too nice or a little mean or that perfect middle that the explosive boy likes. It’s just that terrible music blasting so loud that he can barely hear himself think when he goes past.

Well—wait. How did Bakugo know Mina was there?

Nevermind that!

It’s just really scary sometimes, when Bakugo isolates like this. Because Eijirou knows how Bakugo pushes himself and treats himself, and it’s not exactly picture perfect. On top of that, with all the worry about his home life… the redhead just doesn’t like it.

He’d rather Bakugo be out in the courtyard exploding everything that looks at him wrong or pick another fight with someone he definitely shouldn’t be fighting, than lock himself away like this. It just sends Eijirou into a little bit of a panic because look! It’s right there on the list!

Isolation from peers.

Bakugo practically confirmed it the other day, but Eijirou still wants to doubt it—not because it’s easier, but because it means his friend hasn’t been hurt like that. But he gives him space, because that’s exactly what he needs right now, and Eijirou only hopes that next week will be better.

And Bakugo won’t be so far away.

It’s Wednesday.

There are a few things that Eijirou learns after that first week with Bakugo, just by watching, or asking questions—which he was surprised he actually answered (and he definitely doesn’t think about this instead of paying attention in class the week after):

First, he learns that Bakugo feels sick if he eats too fast, which he thinks is another side effect of the nitroglycerin in his system, but is too afraid to ask about it in case he thinks he’s prodding at a quirk weakness of his, second he learns that the spice offsets this reaction.

As someone who can remember every muscle in the body, he knows that if he studies nitroglycerin, he can remember and apply it, and maybe make Bakugo feel not so alone. 

Well. If he actually does feel alone. 

Every time Eijirou asks, he denies it.

Third, he learns that eating is just as important to him as it is Recovery Girl or Momo. How nobody, not even Aizawa seems to know that, is absolutely beyond him. It makes sense—explosions need energy, and when he burns it, his arms shake and he flushes.

Bakugo just doesn’t pass out or turn pale or skinny, or die, thank god, but he needs fuel. Every spark does.

Everything about Bakugo starts to make more sense.

Fourth thing he learns is that Bakugo is fluent in French and Italian and JSL (and mostly English, but that’s because of the classes), because his mom is French and his grandma on his dad’s side is Italian and her husband was deaf, and they’re who raised him most, so that also explains why when Aoyama is ranting, he starts banging his head into things or exploding stuff.

Because he can understand and Aoyama is very… eccentric.

Fifth, he learns that Bakugo likes the music he does because the bass plus the lyrics typically help him keep his adrenaline up, which actually levels out his body—he also learns that he constantly needs to pump adrenaline in his system, otherwise the nitroglycerin will bottom out his blood pressure…

And that won’t be pretty at all.

It would be like a diabetic who didn’t get insulin for a month.

Sixth, he discovers that when Bakugo is constantly around someone, he starts to run out of insults—which is probably why he doesn’t go around them so much, so they don’t discover that, but Eijirou isn’t so easily dissuaded—and then Bakugo has to switch tactics and becomes funny and awkward and all sharp.

It’s kind of like talking to Todoroki and Kaminari if they merged into one intelligent person, though he’d probably get blasted for ever saying that, so he’s going to keep it to himself.

Seventh, the more time he spends around Bakugo, the more time he realizes how… pretty he is.

Really pretty.

Eijirou knows that Bakugo, in theory, is hot. People on the street double take when they look at him, sometimes, because they don’t know what his personality is like. It feels like a social experiment in a way. But because Eijirou learned what he was like the day he met him, it kind of blinded him.

Maybe that’s another use of his anger—to hide him.

An impractical but successful shield.

Nobody will look so long at him because of his glare, so he doesn’t really think anyone has really noticed what Bakugo actually looks like, though he’s not sure why the explosive boy prefers that. Most people prefer to be hot, not hidden behind unapproachability.

Bakugo hasn’t really grown since first year.

He’s still around five-foot seven, short especially compared to Eijirou’s still growing six-foot two self, it’s kind of a good height difference. It makes Eijirou think when they’re standing right next to each other. Like, he can just reach out and rest his head on Bakugo’s chin, or put his arms on his shoulders.

But it also makes him think about how Midoriya is now the same height as Bakugo, and that probably pisses him off. And he thinks about what Midoriya said a few months ago, how he blurted out “Well, abuse stunts growth.” right in the middle of class when they were measuring for updated suits and someone mentioned it.

He yelled a lot that day.

Was it really that far-out that Bakugo could be hurt that the class laughed it off? Did they all just think Midoriya was talking about himself? That’s what Eijirou did. But looking back, it was so obvious what he meant—the panicked/sorry look sent towards Bakugo was telling.

It feels like a punch in the gut now.

He starts to notice how pretty Bakugo is with his blond hair and striking red eyes, that sharp jaw and smaller but so, so powerful hands, and even that laugh of his… and when his voice falls down, relaxed, how it’s actually not as deep or growly, and his laugh is always airy, higher pitched.

The first time he heard his laugh, it’s because he hurt someone. The last time he heard his laugh, it’s because Eijirou lost a round in a video game. They were different, one was far more genuine, real; the kind where he clutched his stomach a bit.

God—Eijirou has never really looked at Bakugo before.

Right now, as he’s listing these things out, trying to compare it to memory, he’s taking note of Bakugo, sitting in his chair, those stupid combat boots high up on the desk, ripped black jeans and a shirt with one of his alt-rock bands on the front under his school jacket—

Looking a moment away from getting scolded by Iida.

—he looks really good, and Eijirou is thanking the relaxed dress code for third years for the sight, and he doesn’t care how Bakugo is scowling because he’s looking at his mouth anyway, and suddenly Bakugo’s glare holds less venom and it’s actually kind of like a challenge—

Is he… did he notice that Eijirou was… shit .

Eighth, because of how pretty—awkward and funny, and honest, and sharp, and amazing—Bakugo is, Eijirou wants to kiss him. And he knows that’s a problem. Bros don’t kiss. Bakugo doesn’t even touch anyone, let alone put his mouth on them.

Plus he’s supposed to be focusing on keeping him safe, not his lips.

It’s never going to happen. 

Bakugo is just getting to that delicate point of accepting friendship, there is absolutely no way that Eijirou is going to be the one to push him for more. But he absolutely will tease him, get him used to Eijirou, because his affection needs to come out somewhere, even if it’s sideways.

Even if it’s taken more as a joke, or something unserious (which it probably will be, because when Mina or Kaminari flirt with him, or even Midoriya, Eijirou will always flirt back—flirting is just fun, alright! Before, there was no weight to it) he’s going to do it.

So Eijirou re-meets that challenging red gaze, grins sharp, and winks .

Oh—how Bakugo flushes. 

Holy shit . Even his face goes slack with surprise, anger traded out even momentarily for a different expression. Eijirou has never seen something so tempting as Katsuki Bakugo’s red face, ears turning the color of his hair dye, and mini-explosions detonate against the desk.

Before he can help it, Eijirou barks out a laugh—hand covering his face when Aizawa opens his eyes from the face hole of his sleeping bag. “Sorry, Aizawa,” He says, shooting a thumbs up when some of the class shoot him a worried look. “We’re all good.”

“Speak for your own damn self.” Bakugo says, but isn’t looking at Eijirou, instead his cheek is on his palm, face turned towards the wall, hiding his blush.

Eijirou is just so proud. 

He did that .

Blasty Protection Squad

President Kiri

me n baku r officially friends again !

Manager Sero

CONGRATS

Member Denki

me next!!!

VP Mina

Get your asses to the common room NOW

Chapter Text

Eijirou jolts from where he’s in line at the lunch rush and makes eye contact with Sero where he’s head down, mid-gobble of his miso, sitting next to Ojiro, Sato and Shoji, black eyes blown wide in concern, when he looks up he finds Kaminari where he’s faux-flirting with Jiro, all while obliviously sitting on Shinsou’s lap.

Some day, Eijirou will snap some sense into the electric boy and put Shinsou out of his misery, but today is not that day.

“Denki! Sero!” Eijirou calls them over, waving, a half-nervous grin on his face. “C’mon!”

“Where are you going in such a rush, Kirishima?” Iida asks, pushing his glasses up with one hand.

“Eh? Just extra practice!” It’s better not to get him involved, right?

“Right!” Kaminari shakes over easily, leaving with a fast wave goodbye, and Sero messily downs the rest of his soup as he skips over, spilling half of it down his chin. “I haven’t fried out in over a month, can you believe that Kiri? I’m getting better and better! On my way to number three hero, honey!”

“‘umber ‘ee?” Sero questions, swallowing thickly. “Who’s one n’two?”

“Duh, Blasty and Hito, or Deku and Todoroki, or-”

“We get it, you’re undecided.”

“No I’m not! I’m number three!”

“Not about you, dumbass, about-”

“Guys, guys, please, arguing is so un manly,” Eijirou wraps an arm around either of their shoulders, trapping them (because really, who can get out of his hold?) and pulling them in the direction of the doors. “We have better things to do, you know. Check your phone, Kami.”

Grumbling, both annoyed and excited, the blond does so and then stumbles to keep up with the hold on him as he registers the severity of what could be happening. They know that Mina was going to try and talk to Todoroki again today, and it obviously isn’t going as planned.

Meaning not good at all.

“Think he iced her?”

“I think she pissed him off.”

“Oof. Mina’s more like Blasty than I think!”

“Kaminari, please be quiet.”

“Awh, man. You’re so mean.”

The sight in front of them gives Eijirou chills.

Todoroki is standing in a straight line, face forward, blank, not giving a single emotion away, though Midoriya is holding onto his left arm and Uraraka is stationed at his right, and Mina is holding her own ground, all alone while the three of them talk (Todoroki) and yell (Uraraka, Mina) and beg (Midoriya) over one another.

“What gives you the right—”

“—because I know exactly what it’s like—”

Mina stomps on the floor.

“Guys can we all please just calm down?”

“He has no place to be here with how he-”

“—to say that about Bakugo!”

“Can you guys let me speak!”

“—when someone in a position—”

“Shoto, please, please just listen to-”

“When it’s literally none of—”

“—of power uses their control—”

“Please! I can’t even understand what—”

“—to harm another individual.”

“—you guys are saying!”

“—your fucking business-”

Mina is cut off with a screech due to Eijirou picking her up, her hands searing acid along his uniform’s forearms, doing nothing to the skin underneath. This stops Uraraka and Midoriya both from continuing, and Todoroki seems done saying whatever he was anyway.

“None of you are speaking reasonably right now, other than Deku, and that’s just ‘cause he was telling you to stop.” Eijirou says bluntly. “Now, this is my business, I was invited to join the conversation. Don’t push me out of it. Tell me what’s going on.”

“You can’t be unbiased here, Kirishima.” Uraraka says—and because she’s herself, it doesn’t sound like a snap, but he knows that it is.

So he just scoffs, a harsh breath puffing out between shark teeth. Eijirou has already decided who’s side he’s on, but it’s not manly to say that off the bat. So he just tilts his head a bit to the side. “And you are?”

Her cheeks turn even pinker and her mouth cracks open.

Todoroki interrupts. “This is about Bakugo’s behavior over the years. Ochoka looked at the schedule for tomorrow and saw how we will be sparring, leading her to try and tell Izuku to ask Mr. Aizawa not to pair them together. I did not agree with her, but I agree with getting Mr. Aizawa in on the matter. He’s a reasonable man.”

“I can’t believe he just put Aizawa and reasonable in the same sentence.” Sero snarks out.

Kaminari snickers. “Right.”

“Be quiet.” Todoroki demands.

Eijirou shifts when Mina calms down, always knowing when she’s beat, and lets her go tuck her face against Sero’s shoulder to vent—his grin is big, sharp; hiding what he thinks would be a glare underneath. “Why do you think he would need to step in? Aizawa knows our limits. He’s had us since our first year.”

And he’s stopped Bakugo from going after Deku before, he doesn’t say.

Not to mention Midoriya is so much stronger, more controlled, than ever—then again, so is Bakugo. What could even make them freak out for him like that? Then again, Uraraka is pretty protective over Midoriya, and her parents taught her to stand up to others.

That’s why she slaps instead of punching. It’s not an I hate you it’s an I’m better than you kind of thing.

“He’s erasing only one of our quirks.”

Oh shit .

It was a little scary, honestly.

The first rounds were pretty even, Sato with powers and Ojiro without, Shinsou with powers and Todoroki without. Then it started to devolve—Sero with powers lost to Asui without, but the mutant quirk helped. Then it was Kaminari with powers and Tokoyami without.

Aizawa was calling random names, and whoever gets picked last didn’t get to use their quirk. The first few fights made it seem fair, but when Kaminari sent that first shockwave out to his opponent and Kouda was floated up, up, up away from Uraraka, Eijirou started to get nervous.

He could seek Midoriya’s hands twisting around one another too.

All he could think about was Bakugo, full of powers and rage, targeting a powerless Midoriya, recreating their middle school trauma. Or what would happen if someone got their hands on a Bakugo who couldn’t defend himself against a power for the first time.

Sparring when everyone can’t use their powers is different.

Admittedly, Bakugo can also kick ass when Aizawa has those days—he’s manly like that. He’s all pure aggression and can only be matched by their classmates’ raw athleticism, and even then he remains starkly on top—and has been since second year.

Kaminari is an uncomfortable second place for hand to hand and mobility, don’t let anyone fool you. Gymnastics and learning karate did a lot more for him than just flexibility, and any idiot could see that. Then there’s Todoroki, with all his power and strength.

But there is still Bakugo—

At the top.

“Hey, Kiri,” Mina greets, an ice pack pressed against her cheek. Even using her powers against Shoji, it was a close match, and the six arms definitely helped him win. “You look worried. Not used to being punchable?”

“Not that, just… what if what Todoroki was saying happens?” He lets out a puff of breath. It wasn’t just Midoriya they were worried about either, it was anyone going against the brutal boy. “I have faith in Bakugo’s character, but I also know he’s willing to do whatever it takes to win.”

Even Aizawa admits that attitude goes far, and though Bakugo doesn’t have the right one, he has a big one. He doesn’t have to try or work up to get passionate, he’s already there. Todoroki fights to earn it, Midoriya fights for others. Bakugo fights to fight.

God—and does he put up a good fight.

“Bakugo goes all out when it’s even—” Though ‘even’ isn’t actually even going against him, he’s number one for a reason. “—when both sides either have a quirk or don’t, because that’s what’s expected of him. This is unfair in so many ways. Which, I know, is the point. Aizawa’s a good teacher. Just…”

“You worried about his bruised ego?” Sero asks, joining the conversation.

Mina answers for him. “More like he’s worried Blasty will dominate and win but in a cruel way or lose and spiral in an equally negative way.”

A rough shoulder knocks on Eijirou’s from behind and a growl follows as Bakugo places himself between the redhead and Mina, hands stuck in his pockets, shoulders hunched up—Eijirou can’t see his face, but he’s willing to bet the blond’s evil eyes are out.

“I don’t lose.” Bakugo says, angry but passive at the same time, and something in Eijirou’s gut recoils, like a string being pulled taunt and then let go—getting right in Mina’s face. “Know your place.”

She opens her mouth, shuts it.

Aizawa calls “Bakugo versus Midoriya.” over his shoulder as Aoyama and Hagakure finish up their fight, a very easy win for the invisible girl, who has exactly nothing to lose or gain from this exercise (which actually is the truly unfair part of this, he thinks).

These things always find a way to happen, don’t they?

“This is a demonstration of control. Not power, there is a difference.” Aizawa says, standing between Bakugo and Midoriya. Uraraka seems like she’s floating, shaking, but her quirk isn’t activated—she’s just as anxious as Eijirou is. “To take down your opponent with exactly as much power as you need and nothing more is a lesson you need to learn.”

Some of them still do too little or go overboard, and need more recovery time. 

Sometimes Midoriya still breaks too many bones and Kaminari gets fried; Momo eats too little and creates too much, Todoroki freezes over, Eijirou stiffens up. All of this is stuff that they know, things they have to improve before getting to an agency.

Bakugo isn’t on the same level.

When he pushes himself, he doesn’t need to stop. Nothing will tame him, not cuffs or muzzles, not broken bones and punches. Only when he is knocked out cold does he stop and even then, when he wakes up, the fight is back on. Nothing is enough for him.

Shaking arms are nothing compared to his goal.

So it’s his rage that fuels him, that needs to be on the dial, his attitude and willingness to harm, to maim. That is half of what Aizawa is teaching, how to wield your personality like a weapon too. Some inspire, and distract, some flirt and charge, and some are off putting, angry, cold, even mysterious.

Bakugo is one thing.

Aizawa wants him to be more.

“Kacchan, we’re back where we started.” Midoriya notes, still in his costume, but his mask is pulled down. He’s on the opposite side of the ring as Bakugo, and Eijirou is biting the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t know the best outcome here, but he knows what he hopes will happen.

And riling Bakugo up right before the fight begins does not fit into that narrative.

“Shut it.” Bakugo snaps in reply—typical. Nothing to worry about yet. Man, the way Eijirou feels right now is so not manly at all.

“Every pro hero has their thing. Some value brute strength over dexterity, efficiency over compassion, but virtues will always lead to flaws. Brute strength causes collateral damage. Dexterity decreases efficiency in tight quarters. Being able to use all the traits of a good hero will keep you alive.”

They are all third years; their training is no longer about just making it as a pro. It’s about making sure they aren’t killed on the job. Eijirou shoots a tentative look at Iida, who clenches his fist. They all know what they could lose, and it’s nothing small.

This is stuff they have to do.

A villain will remind Deku of Bakugo eventually, and eventually, Bakugo won’t be allowed to use his powers. That isn’t just a possibility, it’s inevitable. Aizawa is a good teacher, he takes all their pasts and personalities into account. Sometimes, that makes his training seem even more destructive.

But the point is that if they break down, they break down here instead of where it’s going to get them killed.

“I’ve won sixteen in a row,” Midoriya informs, almost nervously. Like he’s hyping himself up—which makes sense, he’s been quirkless before, his entire life, now shouldn’t be so different. “You?” 

Bakugo bares his teeth. He is that difference. “I should have been counting?”

“God,” Eijirou gulps, and feels Mina’s eyes on him. “That was so manly.”

“Demonstrate that knowledge; survive.” Aizawa says, voice numb and grating as ever—equal parts passion for his job and boredom due to the kids. “Begin.”

Surprising Eijirou, Bakugo starts the fight on the defensive. 

It’s like his and the redhead’s fights together, where he wears Eijirou down, breaking through his hardness, makes it hurt to even defend himself and then finally goes on the attack. It makes sense, Bakugo doesn’t know how Midoriya plans to win.

And Midoriya always plans to win.

Even he doesn’t deny how smart of a hero Deku is.

Midoriya takes to Bakugo in a run, and the blond explosion boosts himself into a flip over his head, causing the green haired boy to turn and try and grab onto his outstretched right arm. Is that his plan then? To hold Bakugo down, muting out the explosions until Aizawa calls it or he gives up?

The circle territory of their sparring zone doesn’t matter here, so throwing him out of bounds won’t allow him to win. Then again, getting so close to the most destructive part of Bakugo is lethal even on a good day, so doing it in a fight is a whole other thing.

A thing that Midoriya, who is the most self-sacrificing (for the wrong reasons) person that Eijirou knows, would do. He’s exactly the type of person who is just dumb and just smart enough to try and accomplish something like that.

Eijirou wishes him luck.

If the League of Villains and three of UA’s best teachers is what it takes to hold Bakugo down long enough to catch or chain him, the redhead is pretty sure that Midoriya’s quirkless hands won’t get the job done. But he knows that too. Is he planning to actually hurt Bakugo—despite that not fitting his character?

Whatever it takes is not one of Deku’s testaments.

Now Eijirou is curious in a sick way, if a broken wrist would even stop Bakugo. 

He’s been in intense amounts of pain before, he’s been shaking in pain, dripping in sweat, suffering from exhaustion. He can’t see Bakugo stopping because of something like that being broken, not unless it would make his quirk not work instead of just hurting more.

He actually can’t see Bakugo stopping for anything.

So maybe Midoriya knows all of this—of course he does—maybe he’s just trying to get a respectable amount of time before he inevitably loses. That also sounds like something that he’d do, being as headstrong and destructive and honorable as he is.

Bakugo doesn’t stay on the defensive for long.

After the second time of Midoriya trying to catch onto his wrist, he kicks over his head without an explosion to cue the green haired boy into where he’s going to land, latches his left hand onto the back of Midoriya’s neck. It’s a kill-shot hold if Eijirou ever saw one.

A hold that Bakugo has only done a few times, just because of how dangerous it is—

It makes the hair on the back of Eijirou’s neck stand on end.

A direct shot like that from someone as powerful as Bakugo (even the difference between him in first year to now is astounding, he is beyond powerful) would take hours to recover from even with Recovery Girl’s attention, and days to make the ringing in your ears go away.

It’s a kind of shot that Bakugo wouldn’t have hesitated to take in first year to end this fight.

“Surrender.” Bakugo growls out, pinning one of Midoriya’s struggling hands behind his back. He sees a flash of white teeth below green hair. “I said surrender!”

“Deku, c’mon.” Uraraka urges with a shout.

“I surrender.” He finally supplies, though it’s through gritted teeth and an air of defeat. Bakugo lets him go but doesn’t help him up. “I was really hoping I could have lasted longer than that…”

“If Bakugo’s end goal was to disable you from fighting instead of getting you to surrender, Midoriya, it would have taken him seconds, instead of the two minutes it did.” Aizawa states. “That, class, is how you show mercy, even to your opponent while at the same time, not allowing them the choice to harm you if they don’t wave a white flag.”

Everyone stares between Bakugo and Midoriya a little weird after this, Eijirou notes as he looks around. Especially Midoriya. Eijirou gets it— Bakugo and mercy have never been in the same sentence before, especially coming from the mouth of a professional.

“Something nobody today has done yet, besides for him.” Continuing on with a tsk, Aizawa stares over at the class tiredly. “Maybe reflect on your fights and realize what you could have done better.”

But everyone is still staring at Bakugo still, as if everything was an illusion beforehand, or maybe a bit like he isn’t real. “The fuck you extras looking at?” Bakugo snaps.

“You.” Eijirou answers before anyone else has the chance. He’s grinning when the blond looks at him, full of pride. He doesn’t care what everyone else thinks—that’s his best friend! He’s grown so much! “Bakugo! You’re awesome! You’re going to be such a good hero!”

Without warning him, because the redhead is sure that Bakugo could see it coming, Eijirou throws himself on Bakugo which knocks them both onto the ground. They go down hard, rolling over the other as Bakugo fights the affection, shouting.

“And that is how you immediately lose professionalism.” Aizawa grumbles. “Alright. Next is…”

“I’m proud of you, Blasty.” Eijirou speaks against the side of Bakugo’s neck, and notes with glee how red it is.

Bakugo seethes, grumbling, struggling against the hardened hands pinning his own down. “Get off me!”

“I love you!”

“Suck my dick!”

“Well,” Eijirou laughs. “If you insist.”

This time Bakugo blasts Eijirou away.

Chapter Text

Today has been tense, ‘cause the whole time Eijirou wants to ask Bakugo what happened the day before with the fight against Midoriya, but can tell he’s not ready to talk about it based on demeanor alone, and on similar footing, Bakugo can tell he wants to ask and that annoys him.

A lot.

Eijirou only successfully gets him in the common room for half an hour looking over Kaminari’s essay, who he’s okay with when Eijirou’s around, but Asui is there the whole time! So it’s small, but it’s still improvement. Not to mention all of Todoroki’s group seems less on edge around him.

And at the very end of the night, when Sero texts everyone his daily goodnight, Bakugo actually messages back for the first time in months. Sure, he’s just telling them to shut up, but still.

As Mom would say, any progress is good progress!

That night, Bakugo lets Kirishima walk him back up to the dorms, having failed to rope him into one of his night runs again, despite egging him on to join. “You’re a total pussy.” He scolds, arms crossed. “Where’s all that fuckin’ ‘man power’ you talk big about now, huh?”

“I guess you caught me at a low point.” Eijirou jokes, rubbing the back of his head.

The explosive boy’s room is just right there.

Eijirou could literally reach out and touch the door—shove Bakugo inside. And this moment is far more intimate than it has any right to be between the snarling boy and his friend. There is absolutely no reason that Eijirou should be thinking like this, anyone.

Yet he does anyway.

“I bet I can get on the trail tomorrow morning before you can, to make up for it. I’ll leave you in the dust!” The redhead challenges. It’s a distraction more than anything, and when his alarm goes off in the morning, he knows that he will regret saying anything at all—because he’s not a morning person.

But Bakugo just scoffs, not thinking more of it. Which—that’s fine. Definitely doesn’t make something weird pinch in Eijirou’s stomach. Everything is fine.

“In your dreams, Shitty Hair.”

It’s a few hours later, when he thinks everyone else in the building is already or should definitely be asleep that this happens.

“Open the fuckin’ door!” Bakugo is on the other side of his door when the redhead opens it, having been playing Animal Crossing in bed when the knocking sounded out. He’s only in his pajama pants, and feels bare, despite everything he normally shows off.

His hair is a mess, there’s a redness to his eyes but they aren’t swollen—it’s not like he was crying, but it still has those upset undertones. Very, very rarely will he see Bakugo as anything but perfect. Kamino was one, the hours after the Sports Festival was another.

Tonight was just going to be a normal night, and it’s honestly jarring that’s changed.

Eijirou gulps, immediately thinking he did something wrong. “Yeah dude?”

He gets met with a blank stare. “Hug me.”

“What?” Does he need to get his hearing checked? “You don’t like hugs.”

Bakugo snarls. “And what the fuck did I just say?”

“But I’m shirtless… and you don’t like skin on skin.”

“If you don’t want to just fuckin’ say that-”

“No! No, it’s okay,” Eijirou’s hands wave. “Just… are you sure.”

“I just… I don’t fucking care as much… when I’m tired.”

This is absolute bullshit, and Eijirou knows it—knows that Bakugo isn’t clingy when he’s tired, in fact, he’s twice as likely to blow you or something up when he is. He knows that his quirk is emotion-related, that Bakugo does better in fights he cares about.

He does better with more control.

But Eijirou Kirishima considers himself a merciful dude. He lets it slide and opens his arms wide. Who is he to deny Bakugo when he asks something, especially like this?

“Whatever a bro wants!”

Bakugo still hesitates, which is actually something Eijirou expected. His body jerks, like he tried to move forward and back at the same time—and crosses his arms. “I, just… you aren’t allowed to tell anyone. You—you can say I hugged you, but don’t talk about it.”

“I understand.” And he does. He knows how much he values privacy and holds vulnerability so close to his chest. “Do you need me to move to you?”

Shaking his head, the blond moves further into the room and shuts the door behind him (but doesn’t lock it), and grabs Eijirou by the wrist. “I don’t need a damn thing.”

But that’s not true.

Because the moment he raises on his tones—and fuck, the redhead tries so hard not to think that’s cute—his head buries in that sensitive zone between his neck and shoulder, shaking hands gripping tighter against each other and pointedly not to his back.

And his whole body seems to give out, knees bending, causing them to become flush, shoulders dropping as he seems to be hit with what Eijirou hopes is relief. His hands are shaking. Not from the effort like Eijirou first thought, but just shaking.

His breath hitches unevenly, catching at the back of his throat. And Eijirou feels raw.

Because it’s so obvious that Bakugo does need this, need the way he can grip onto his best friend and the way that he will always be the one to let go first—need the way that he doesn’t care how hard this hug is, about the fingertips digging into his skin or the breath on the side of his neck.

Katsuki Bakugo needs this hug.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Bakugo hiccups out. He’s not crying, but his body certainly is reacting to it. “Don’t you fuckin’-”

“I won’t.” Eijirou reassures him; he grabs Bakugo back hard, hand on the back of his head and the other on his side. “I promise I won’t.”

“Shitty Hair, do you remember—” And there’s this shake in his voice, that Eijirou would never admit to hearing, a certain crack and wobble. Vulnerability. It’s a odd concept on Bakugo. “—first year, why I wasn’t sleeping in every morning?”

He pauses before asking, “Did you have a nightmare?”

Bakugo pulls away from him fast, not letting himself linger any longer, a few rushed steps back that almost have him falling onto the bed. “I can’t fuckin’ sleep! I read that shit like physical contact or whatever could help, and you’re the only one who— fuck . This was a fuckin’ mistake-”

“No, wait,” Eijirou grabs onto Bakugo’s biceps as he tries to shoot past him, willing himself not to react to the way the other’s muscles bulge. “This wasn’t a mistake. Just… did you like the hug?”

The red-tinted glare directed at him doubles. “If you’re just going to fuckin’ make fun of me-”

“I’m not, I swear!” He defends. “I just want to know because if you did, then maybe, I don’t know, we could do it more and I could help. And if you want I could… I don’t know, like, help you sleep?” Offering this sends countless images to Eijirou’s mind.

It’s not his fault, alright. 

He was totally prepared to go to sleep all but ten minutes ago, and now he’s standing in front of a messy looking Katsuki Bakugo—making his heart unknowingly pound again for another countless time this week—who just hugged him, and he’s a teenage boy.

With raging hormones. Late at night, with low self control.

Of course he’s going to react to all this—this stimuli!

“The hell are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Bakugo snarls, arms crossing, shaking Eijirou’s hold off of him. Honestly, a blessing and a curse.

“Nothing, sorry.” The redhead bashfully replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Do not look at him like a piece of meat, Eijirou, what is wrong with you . “So how do you feel about what I said?”

“The fuck does it mean?”

Cue a nose wrinkle. “Which part?”

“Helpin’ me sleep.” Bakugo clarifies. There’s that challenging look in his eyes again, the one that Eijirou doesn’t really know what to do with. “The hell does that mean?”

“You said physical touch could help…. do you want me to try, like,” And there’s a flustered laugh echoing out of his chest, one he was really hoping to keep to himself. “I don’t know, cuddling you? In a very manly, completely platonic—” If you want . “—way?”

Bakugo is silent for a moment.

Then that moment stretches into two, and then three, and finally, Eijirou realizes that Bakugo is just going to stare at him like he just said the stupidest thing in the world instead of actually answering him, which is just, that feels great, yeah, especially from a very recently realized crush.

“You know, man, nevermind, that totally-”

“I was gonna fuckin’ say yes.” Bakugo admits. 

It comes out like a snap, disappointed and annoyed, like he can’t believe that Eijirou would dare offer something to him only to take it away a second later. Which really, isn’t fair at all. He can’t just stare at someone like that and expect them to think that he’s going to say yes.

Eijirou is nervous now, and it probably shows on his face. “So we can?”

“Stop changing your fuckin’ mind! If you mean one thing, say one thing!” Raging, Bakugo steps closer to Eijirou like it’s going to intimidate him. As if . “Stop messin’ around with me and just pick what we’re doing, ‘cause you have my answer, so what the fuck are you waitin’ for? To back out again?”

If someone challenges you over little things, his mom’s voice whispers. It means they’re insecure about what’s going on, and trying to get control. It lowers how vulnerable they have to be — to be able to challenge you, instead of wait for the inevitable disappointment, to make you admit they won’t get what they want .

Is that what Bakugo’s doing? Or is this just part of his normal anger?

He doesn’t know which one is better.

“I’m not going to change my answer again, I only said that because I thought it’s what would make you the most comfortable. Backing out like that is so not manly.” Eijirou shakes his head. “Do you want to be in my room or your room? Obviously this is to make you comfortable.”

“You’re seriously going to… fuck.” Stressing—for reasons outside of what he can understand—Bakugo fists up a section of blond hair. “I wasn’t fuckin’ asking you to help me.”

So the redhead challenges him right back. “Who’s backing out now?”

“If I have a nightmare, I’ll fuckin’ explode and by then, you’ll be asleep and won’t be able to do a damn thing about it. I’ll end up killing you, or something unheroic.” While speaking, Bakugo tucks his arms under each other, kind of like an angry pose—but Eijirou can see the anxiety behind it in a moment.

“You won’t hurt me, Blasty.” He says this confidently, because he’s pretty sure it’s true. “Plus, the goal of cuddling is that you won’t have a nightmare!”

“I will hurt you.” Bakugo says this like a promise.

Eijirou feels like he’s finally starting to understand something.

“That’s a risk I’m gonna take, okay? Fully my decision. Anything to help you sleep,” He offers him a thumbs up, motioning between his own bed and the left. Do not think about Bakugo in my bed. “So, my room or yours.” That definitely didn’t help .

Bakugo looks at him weird again. “You’re fuckin’ okay with this?”

“Wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t!”

“My room.” He decides.

Eijirou tries to force himself not to blush. “Alright! I’ll be okay in a minute! Is that okay?”

“Whatever.” The explosive boy scoffs and then just… ;eaves, trusting he’ll come when he says.

This’ll be fine…

Right?

Knocking on Bakugo’s door is nerve wracking.

Half because he’s anxious that any of their friends could find him like this, and immediately confessing if definitely against Bakugo’s wishes at the moment but he isn’t good at lying directly, and the other half is because this is the first time he’s doing this with one of his crushes.

Honestly, recognizing that Bakugo is pretty at the same time he got to know him better was the worst decision of his life. Because before, this wouldn’t have messed with him at all—if it was Kaminari or Sero, then he’d be diving onto their sheets, making Shinsou or Mina jealous.

Now, he can just think .

Eijirou will have to not care about every point of contact they have at the same time he has to not care about how it’s Katsuki Bakugo who is cuddling with him . And it won’t be completely platonic like he said it would either, and he doesn’t know if that’s an act of betrayal or not.

In the moment, it might be too much for him.

He knocks hesitantly, and hates how unmanly the small noises are. God, his Muscle Arm Alarm-Clock must be so disappointed in him. “Baku?” He calls, knocking again a little louder. “Are you-”

“Right fuckin’ behind you.” The explosive boy answers, mid-eye roll when Eijirou turns around, startled, to see him. “Just gettin’ ready for the night, don’t look so freaked out, it makes you seem like a pussy.” A pause. “Get in the room already, Shitty Hair.”

“Right, right, yeah, sorry.” Eijirou stammers out, fumbling with the doorknob as he opens it. It’s stupid, because he was here less than two weeks ago and on top of that, in first year he was in Bakugo’s dorm room literally every single week. “Are you ready to sleep?”

“The fuck I just say?” Bakugo snaps.

The redhead nods, smiling nervously. “Right. Um—where can I put my stuff?” It’s just a blanket, an extra sweater and socks if he gets cold, and his alarm clock, because he knows that Bakugo doesn’t use one—he just ‘wakes up’ because he’s trained his body to do so.

Which now that Eijirou thinks about it, is probably just him waking up early from nightmares and not actually that he runs like a military base, though he’d believe that too.

Because Bakugo can do anything, in his opinion.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Somehow, he sighs and snaps this out at the same time, moving past the redhead to throw something back in a drawer and a sweatshirt onto the back of his desk chair. It’s one he never wears to run, and Eijirou has the strange urge to see him in it. “Just don’t make a fuckin’ mess.”

“Alright!” He nods in return.

Moving to set up his alarm on the nightstand, putting his socks and sweatshirt in a neat bundle on the floor by the side of the bed, and sets his blanket over Bakugo’s ones, a little guilty about how wrinkly it is in comparison to the picture-perfect red and black bedspread.

“There!” Eijirou nods, hands on his sides, feeling flustered and proud and not enough. “So, just wanna jump in?”

Of course, the blond just grumbles in reply, “It’s not a fuckin’ pool and we’re not children.”

“Give a little, Bakugo.” He says, not so much a demand, but definitely more as an instruction. “What will make you the most comfortable?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, I’ve never bothered to do this before. It feels stupid.” Red eyes roll at him, despite this being exactly what he asked for. “Do whatever you damn please, and I’ll just go along with it.”

But what sticks out most to Eijirou is I’ve never bothered to do this before which he knows, he knows, okay, that this shouldn’t be surprising—if Bakugo hasn’t hugged someone since he was four, then of course he doesn’t go around cuddling them, either.

This wasn’t something they did in their first year, either.

So this, for the both of them, is brand new.

“...okay.” He hesitantly agrees, sitting down on the top of Bakugo’s bed, legs shuffling under the two or three blankets he has (much less than Eijirou’s own bed) and raises an eyebrow at him. “Which side do you want?” Bakugo huffs and shrugs, so he flips the side of the blankets closest to the wall over for him. “C’mere!”

“You’re too damn enthusiastic about this.” Bakugo grumbles. “Stop grinnin’ at me like that.”

Eijirou raises an eyebrow right back at him. “Like what?”

“Like—I don’t fuckin’ know.” 

And there’s this redness to Bakugo’s cheeks now, one that Eijirou won’t mention but notices, even in the low lighting. Which he hasn’t really noticed before now. It makes Bakugo’s edges look sharper, somehow. And it makes him gulp hard, makes him think.

“Just stop doin’ it.”

“Alright, dude, anything for you.” A pause and then he adds on “You slur your words more when you’re tired.” affectionately.

“Piss off.” Bakugo finally pulls himself up and over Eijirou’s legs, sitting crisscross next to the redhead, arms crossing too. He’s closed off, and doesn’t even seem like he wants to be poked right now, let alone cuddled. His jaw ticks. “How the fuck do you…?”

“Can I touch you?” Poor word choices, unfortunately dirty mind . “Like, I can just get us comfy? Just let me move you.”

Red eyes flick between his own, brighter and more open than he’s used to seeing, that red ring around his eyes has faded but now there’s this vulnerability there, that he hasn’t really seen much before. “You still ain’t gonna tell anyone? Because I swear, Shitty Hair-”

“I promised, didn’t I?” Eijirou says, punching a fist against Bakugo’s arm awkwardly. “So can I?”

“I fuckin’ guess.”

Bakugo stays stiff as ever when the redhead pulls his legs out from under him, laying him down with an ‘umph’ that makes him chuckle a little and makes the other curse— do not think about climbing on top of him —and even more so when he forces an arm under the blond’s head and pulls his left arm over his chest.

Now effectively having Bakugo sandwiched between him and the wall, he waits until he feels Bakugo’s shoulders give out (relaxing) before shuffling down, letting his body go lax. He resists the urge to stuff his face in Bakugo’s hair, and doesn’t let his hands move to trace patterns on his back.

Eijirou Kirishima is cuddling with Katsuki Bakugo.

Just—holy shit .

“Try and sleep now.” Eijirou says, voice low. “I’ll make sure you don’t have a nightmare, okay?”

Bakugo’s face pushes into the side of his chest, and he nods a second later. “Whatever.”

“Oh, and from me and Sero, goodnight, Blasty.”

“G’night, Shitty Hair.” A pause. “Stop fuckin’ smilin’.”

Hint: he doesn’t.

He does not dream about Bakugo (this is a lie).

There’s nothing more to the story.

Chapter Text

In the middle of the night, or morning, rather, right around five, little pops and kicks against his shin wake Eijirou Kirishima up. Hands that sizzle and steam are clawing at his chest, and his quirk is already activated by the time he can truly process anything.

Bakugo is having a nightmare.

His mouth is twisted up in a snarl but little growl-whimpers are sounding out, and his leg jerks to hit into the redhead’s again. Instantly, because god, Eijirou can’t believe he’s just sat there processing and letting him be in pain for as long as he has already—

He gathers Bakugo up in his arms.

“Hey, Blasty, I got you. I dunno what’s happening,” Eijirou uses his hardened hands to pin Bakugo’s to his chest—mourning his sleep shirt for only a moment. Maybe he should still sleep shirtless, even with him. “But you’re safe, okay? It’s Shitty Hair, which I still take offense to, by the way.”

The little noises stop, but his arms are shaking and his legs still kick sometimes, still blurrily trying to fight back.

“It’s Kirishima, I’m using my quirk, alright? I’m between you and whatever is coming for you.” He keeps speaking, rambling, tired and trying his best. “You know nothing can get through me.” His kicking stops and Bakugo growls low in his throat, head raising, but Eijirou just brushes the hair out from his face and presses him closer. “I got you, Bakugo.”

And that seems to be enough.

Bakugo settles and so does Eijirou, letting his quirk deactivate, running his fingertips over the ridges of the explosive boy’s back until his muscles stop tensing and his spine curls up, folding into Eijirou like he belongs there, letting out a little sigh. He has to ask his mom about touch-starved people soon.

God, he thinks, looking down at Bakugo, noting with glee he feels safe again. I’m so gone .

Eijirou didn’t think about this.

By ‘this’ he means the fact that he’d wake up with Bakugo’s leg over his hips, his face pressed against his neck, both hands gripping tight to his shirt, plastered against his side. ‘This’ means that he’s still a teenage boy and this is his crush, and ‘this’ also means that he’s so scared to mess this up.

He prays that his body doesn’t react to anything going on, and for once, it seems to listen to him.

As fast as he can, he turns off his alarm and notes with something close to awe that class is in half an hour, and Bakugo is still asleep. Normally he’s up for two hours by now (which is why Eijirou is groggy on his morning runs) and yet, he’s right here, sound asleep on his chest.

It really was his nightmares waking him up, Eijirou notes with a frown, glancing down at his singed and semi-exploded shirt. At least it was one he didn’t really care about, as an upside. He reminds himself, there’s always a silver lining. 

“Hey… Blasty?” He tiredly mumbles out, turning onto his side to shake Bakugo’s arm. “There’s a half hour ‘till class.”

“Fuck’ff.” Bakugo mumbles, turning over to face plant into his pillow instead of Eijirou’s chest. Then, his back goes rigid.

“Don’t freak out.” Eijirou winces. “You okayed us cuddling last night-”

“Half an hour.” He growls out, interrupting, sitting up with a glare. “That’s not—it can’t—what the fuck ?” Cue a hand pulling at blond hair. “That’s not even enough fuckin’ time to go on a run! What the hell! I never fuckin’ sleep in! I’d rather not sleep at all!”

“Calm down, Blasty! How about we go on a ten minute run, and then run back to the dorms? We can make getting ready a race, and if we’re late, I’ll tell Mr. Aizawa it was my fault?” Offering this, Kirishima gathers up his blanket, kind of to hide his ruined shirt and kind of just to get a jumpstart on getting ready.

“I slept through the night.” Bakugo says, nose wrinkling.

It doesn’t really even seem like he heard Eijirou.

“You did!” He confirms. “Around five I could tell you were having a nightmare, or at least an unpleasant dream—” Because his nose wrinkled angrily at the word nightmare . “—but you settled down. I actually… I think this does help. You haven’t tried it before.”

Red eyes regard him with something close to disdain. “Obviously fuckin’ not.”

“Right, well, um,” Totally not manly, Eijiro chides himself. “Anytime you want to do it, I promise I’ll help with that! I like doing this! And um, anyway, wanna race?”

“Get the fuck off my bed so I can get my shorts on.” He growls

“Oh,” The redhead laughs. “That’s definitely a yes!”

Bakugo tsks. “I’m not waiting for you.”

Eijirou jumps out of the bed. “Me either!”

And just like that, the race begins.

He loses. Bakugo wins.

What's new?

They come right on time, as Bakugo normally does, kicking the door open right when the bell rings, like one loud noise isn’t enough. He would just open the door with the back of his hand, or wait until it was already open, given there’s twenty other kids in the class that could help.

But Eijirou is normally earlier, meeting up with Sero and Mina, so he’s the one that gets looked at weird.

He gets it, really, Bakugo is totally put together (but missing the tie, as per usual) and Eijiro’s cheeks are red and his uniform is messy (but hair perfectly gelled up: priorities) and he came in with Bakugo, which would either be worrying or like they did stuff together which is disconcerting in itself.

“Sorry, Aizawa!” He calls. “We’ll get right to our seats!”

“Don’t fuckin’ apologize, Shitty Hair, we weren’t late.”

“A real man acknowledges bad timing when he sees it!”

Mina gives him I know what you did eyes and Kaminari is looking at them like he just won the lottery, and Sero is oblivious and face-down asleep at his desk, but Midoriya is also looking at them, like if Bakugo notices he won’t get angry about it.

But Bakugo just kicks his feet up on the desk. “Whatever.”

“Settle.” Aizawa calls tiredly, standing up with a stack of papers. “Update your official forms wherever you need to before parent-teacher conferences, because if I have to answer a question I don’t know, I’m going to fail you for the week just so your parents know I’m serious.”

Shinsou raises his hand, an uptick to one side of his mouth.

“And just because you need to.” He adds on, sighing deep.

The hand drops and a few seats away, Kaminari laughs.

Today will be an okay day, Eijirou can already tell!

Blasty Protection Squad

VP Mina

WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT
I KNOW AFTERGLOW WHEN I SEE IT

Manager Sero

me

VP Mina

No babe Ik what we get up to
Kiri!

Manager Sero

oh

Member Denki

Please do tell!!!!
Even *I* could pick up on it~

President Kiri

guys there’s nothing to tell
I promised Baku I wouldn’t talk about it, but I also stg that it’s not what Mina thinks or I wouldn’t be able to keep it to myself

VP Mina

Awh man

Manager Sero

why are we sad

Member Denki

Damn :/
I really thought you got some good good!!!

Manager Sero

do not call it that

President Kiri

wait hold on
y did u guys think me and baku would sleep tgthr?

Manager Sero

do not call it that

Member Denki

Why not :( ???

President Kiri

guys pls

VP Mina

Because you literally came in together bright red and disorganized
Looking like you guys just either did something illegal or won the lottery
Plus you weren’t in your room last night

Manager Sero

oh yeah
I tried to find you to play uno
where were you

Member Denki

I can take a guess
Bakuuuu’s room ;) ;) ;)

President Kiri

I already said I can’t talk abt it
Idc if you guys wanna know rn
if anything like that happens between us ull b the first to know

VP Mina

Do you WANT anything to happen?

Manager Sero

wait are we talking about a crsuh
you like Blasty still right

Member Denki

Has he ever stopped???

President Kiri

im sry
wdy guy think i got a crush on him

VP Mina

First year

Manager Sero

first year

Member Denki

In first, duh!!!

President Kiri

no

Member Denki

No?!?!?!????

President Kiri

i realized it last week

VP Mina

Well I realized it when you looked at him like you wanted to eat him during the sports festival in first year, and literally call him manly all of the time

Manager Sero

i thought you started liking him after kamino

Member Denki

I thought you like instantly liked him!!! Like during our first exercise when you saw his explosions!! Dude you practically had hearts in your eyes!! And you teamed up with him during the sports festival without any protest either!!!
Even tho he was being mean :D)
Sounds like a crush to me!!!! :O

President Kiri

but i
i JUST started to like him

VP Mina

just started to like him or just started to ~want~ him

Manager Sero

dont say it like that

Member Denki

Stop telling people that!!!!

President Kiri

explain mina
pls !

VP Mina

like him = personality (which says a lot about you)
want him = physically (took you long enough)

Manager Sero

i wanted mina before i liked her
which is why i started to know her more

VP Mina

Guys that means I’m hot!

Member Denki

We knew that already Pinky!!!! ;)

VP Mina

Awh you’re gonna make me red!

Member Denki

Not hard to do!!!

President Kiri

i have so much shit to process
oml

VP Mina

Take your time sweetie, we’re here for you!

Manager Sero

want me to ask baku if he likes you back

Member Denki

I’m the smooth one!!! Let me do it :D

President Kiri

no, if anything is gonna happen I want it to b natural
but ty !

VP Mina

Back to you, Kami~

Manager Sero

oh god
again

Member Denki

Hehe, hi Mina~

Manager Sero

im telling shinsou

Member Denki

NOOOOOOOOO
TAKE YOUR WOMAN BACK

President Kiri

speaking of crushes…

VP Mina

LMAO

Despite how Bakugo eats alone in the cafeteria, stuffed in a corner radiating that don’t even look at me energy with his steaming hands and red glare, and despite that vibe being so strong Eijirou is pretty sure a plant could wilt if he looks at it wrong or even make Hagakure feel too-seen, he still wants to sit with him.

So he does.

“Hey, Baku!” Eijirou cheers, ignoring the thumping in his chest. Has he really liked him that long? “Long time no see!”

“I saw you last fuckin’ class, Shitty Hair.” He snarks out, stressing a piece of salmon nigiri between two chopsticks.

“Rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Brave of you to say that to a guy with teeth like me.” Eijirou snaps his jaw at him, and tells himself that flirting is still supposed to mean nothing. “But if you really want me to, I will. Can’t promise it won’t hurt, but I can say I can make it feel good.”

With ears staining pink as he speaks, red eyes looking at him evenly, Bakugo replies lowly with, “Why are you saying shit like that all of a sudden?”

“Because I didn’t flirt in our first year but did last year, and this when you’re in front of me, so I might as well.” Eijirou replies (mostly) honestly. “You’re right there, and you’re flirtable.” He winks, and watches the pink spread to Bakugo’s cheeks. “Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

“I—no.” But his nose wrinkles when he says it, so he doesn’t know if he actually agrees with this. “I just don’t fuckin’ get it.”

Eijirou steals a piece of fish off of the rice, so the blood angrily throws the rice at him; it lands harmlessly on his plate (a few pieces flicked onto his jacket), and he eats that too, taking bites between saying, “Get what?”

“I’m not fuckin’ ‘flirtable’. I don’t even know what the hell that means.” Bakugo scoffs. “It’s a made up word.”

“It still has a definition.” The redhead teases right back. “It means that you’re attractive, and I recognize that, and you have a good personality, and are a good person, so all in all, who wouldn’t want to flirt with you. You’re strong too! You could probably take me no problem.”

(Eijirou tries to tell himself there’s no double meaning. He fails.)

“Shut the hell up and eat.” Bakugo snaps, sounding angry, practically seething—but he’s so red that Eijirou is pretty sure to anyone else, he’d look sick. Upon closer inspection, his hands are shaking the tiniest bit, and that’s the only reason that he backs down.

Yeah. Definitely means nothing.

He likes it, he thinks, a bit too giddy. He likes it when I flirt with him.

“That’s how I know you’re full of shit,” The explosive boy continues to grumble, steam coming off around the wood of his chopsticks. “‘Good personality’ my ass.”

“Do you need me to-”

“I will kill you.” He snaps.

Eijirou decides not to risk it.

That night, Bakugo doesn’t ask for him and he doesn’t go. His arms feel empty and he wakes up in the middle of the night, scared the other might be having a nightmare—anxious further about not being able to do anything about it. He hears the door beside his slam shut around five-thirty.

Eijirou goes back to sleep with stress pinching at his shoulders.

Kirishima finds Bakugo beating up some punching bags.

He knocks on the doorframe and extends the invitation Mina gave the rest of the group (because Sero was anxious about going out as a couple—just because he knows what the rest of the class is like, how they talk—and wanted more people around) to go out to the town tonight.

It would be nice if others don’t judge couples who get together; if people stop caring so much that others' attractiveness ‘matches up’ and just focus on the shit that actually matters. In forty years when they’re all wrinkly, nobody’s going to be hot anymore.

So far everyone has agreed, adding in Jiro and Shinsou to that mix, and probably Momo, if Jiro has any say in it.

Telling Bakugo about this, he expects every flat glare he gets in reply, and even the “Fuck no.” that gets spit in his direction. That doesn’t mean it’s any less disappointing! He’s getting to the point where group outings seem like a good idea, seeing as they’ve been good friends for a few weeks.

Hell—they even cuddled together.

Eijirou pouts. “Awh, man. Like, you actually don’t want to go? Like at all? Like you don’t feel like being around anyone… around me! Even? It’s just us and some others! Momo might invite the Dekusquad, but we plan to keep it small and separate. That sounds fun to me. You seriously aren’t going?”

Steam literally comes off of Bakugo, and he almost regrets asking, but then—then the blond takes his arm, roughly, and begins to lead him away. “Stop fuckin’ complaining about every damn thing! S’cuse me for wantin’ some peace and fuckin’ quiet for once.”

“So we’re both going?” He asks, knowing they’re heading in the right direction of the dorms.

“You’re one intelligent fuck, aren’t you?”

Chapter Text

Bakugo changes into a soft looking white shirt with a band logo on the front, black bush pants and grey jacket, and grey combat shoes the pants are tucked into. He has a necklace on, but it’s under the shirt, and his hands are stuffed deep into his pockets.

Honestly, it doesn’t really look like he put much effort into it—because he doesn’t have one of his favorite shirts on and changed quickly—but really, truly, there should be no reason that he feels good no matter what he puts on. How does he look as good with layers on than he does with just a thin tank top?

That’s just not fair!

He looks hot and different in casual clothes, and Eijirou can’t really describe the feeling he has right now other than just flustered and more please . 

“You’re fuckin’ looking at me like that again.” Bakugo grumbles, his arms crossing, red eyes briefly rolling towards the ceiling. 

So. Not. Fair.

“Can I touch you?” Eijirou asks again—this time, it’s on purpose. He knows what he’s doing, he’s grinning, all sharp teeth, sitting on Bakugo’s desk chair (he changed in the bathroom after his shower). “Like, I’m going to flirt with you, either way, but can I touch you?”

Immediately, Bakugo looks like he’s on the defensive. 

Damn. Eijirou might really be pushing it here.

“Like… the hell do you mean?” Snapping this, the blond leans back against the door. “Are you comin’ onto me?”

Eijirou blinks, a little bit excited and anxious about this, and just leans on his forearms, looking up at him. “Do you want me to come onto you?” Now this time the double meaning is an accident, and he has to will himself to just stop thinking about it .

Ears flushing pink (he’s never been more grateful for blond hair), the back of Bakugo’s head hits the wall as he leans further away. “Piss off.”

“Is that a no?” He asks this with two raised eyebrows.

“It’s a piss off .” Which is Bakugo for yes, but I’m not admitting that —Eijirou is fluent. “The fuck you want to do that for anyway?”

Eijirou stands and says “Because I think that it would be really fun.” while advancing on Bakugo, getting up right close to him by the door, looking down, not touching him, but putting one arm by his head to lean in. “Don’t you agree, Blasty?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” He huffs, rolls his eyes again (avoiding eye contact—AKA: getting flustered).

“Then what do you want me to call you, handsome? Bakugo? Katsuki? ” Oh god, he’s so red right now. It’s so attractive to him. Eijirou keeps a little warning in the back of his mind not to go too far. “I can call you anything that you want.”

“Literally fuck off.” The explosive boy snaps, pop, pop, pops! sounding out from his palms.

His arms are tucked under his armpits, not pushing him away. Eijirou notes that Bakugo’s legs and hips are angled out, up, into his own—giving him his full attention. He’s not going to say the words playing hard to get but he will say the ones doesn’t know how to give in .

Besides, if either one of them is playing anything, it’s Eijirou playing hard to get rid of .

Eijirou leans into him more. “Fuck off or fuck-”

“Finish that sentence, and I will explode you.”

“Awh, Blasty!” The redhead whines, falling on top of him playfully, thighs sliding together, really putting his weight on the other making him breathe out hard and mutter a few curses, hands now pushing on his shoulders. “But it was just getting fun!”

“I’m not one of your little friends that can flirt without giving a fuck!” Bakugo suddenly snaps, and Eijirou pulls away with wide eyes, one hand bracing on either side of the door. “Sparky might flirt with anything with a pulse, and you might like that, but I’m not him . Fuck off .”

He needs it to mean something, Eijirou translates at the same time he thinks, it’d be too soon.

“I… I’m not flirting with you like how I flirt with them.” Clarifying, he stands up straight but doesn’t back away—because if he can explain this right, Bakugo won’t want to make him. “I don’t touch them, and I don’t pin them. It’s like a competition, to see who can be the smoothest. It’s just… words with them.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenches, and it’s like he can almost hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he raises his chin up almost defiantly, “Then what the hell is it with me?”

Letting out a breath, not wanting to admit this right now and not seeing a better option for their friendship, Eijirou opens his mouth. “It’s-”

“Yo! Kiri! Baku!” Kaminari shouts. “Put down the game controllers, or the lube, I don’t really know what you guys are into lately, but whatever floats your boats I guess. It’s time to go! Everything will be closed in three hours and I plan to milk that time! C’mon!”

“I’m gonna blast that fuckin’ mouth off of you, Pikachu!” Bakugo growls as he turns and kicks the door open.

The last thing Eijirou hears Kaminari say is “Did you make that rhyme on purpose?” as he takes down the hall, both blonds running like the electric boy’s life depends on it (and knowing Bakugo, it does).

“I’d say we should help him,” Sero says, smiling with teeth. “But that sounds like natural selection at work.”

Eijirou nods, and rubs some of the red out of his cheeks. “Yeah,” He nods dismissively. “Agreed.”

Bakugo walks silently behind the group.

Then what the hell is it with me?

At the head of the group is Mina, arm in arm with Sero, followed by Shinsou, Kaminari and Jiro all in a line and then Momo, who’s explaining something about molecular composition to Eijirou behind them, but all he’s hearing is white noise.

It’s the way I seem to burn when I look at you —

“Then further, if something is inside of something else, I need to actually work backwards. Figuring out the shell is the easiest bit, because often, what’s inside is important. So I also need to be really familiar with the dynamics of things, especially if what I am producing is mechanical. I can’t just make something up.”

— and you make me feel like I’m taking a fresh breath of air —

“Metal is the easiest, alloys mix very nicely and come out smoothly, but that means I need to have a lot of iron in my system to make up for it. That’s why if I make a shield, I try to keep it on me because making a shield out of softer material is easier, but also more destructive for my system.”

— like I’m protected from everything, and your protector —

“Like I was saying, softer things are easier, they also grate on my skin less. Often, after fighting, my skin will ache. Right now, Recovery Girl is certain that it has to do with my nerves. Because they’re one of the most sensitive parts of my body, I think energy triggers them over time.”

— you make me want something, for the first time in my life —

“Which is just another reason that eating is so important to me. A balanced diet will ensure that I am able to produce everything I need on whim, without having to raid or make things up, which I already explain that I cannot do well. It makes poor or incomplete things.”

— and that’s you .

“Jiro is quite helpful in this aspect, hearing and repeating is a great way to learn and memorize information, and she always helps me study. I understand you’ve done equal amounts of research on muscles in the body, which makes sense, with your quirk.”

There’s a few silent moments, and then Eijirou looks up. “Huh?”

“Muscles?” Momo repeats, just a bit unhelpfully.

Man , ignoring your friends when they’re talking to you is so not manly.

“Oh, right,” He takes a shot in the dark. “Yeah, I’ve done a lot of research. Honestly, it’s all pretty easy to remember naturally for me, but that’s because I don’t have to change it up or guess, and sometimes just focusing on a general area is good enough.”

“Can you harden any muscle?” She asks, giving him a once over.

The redhead nods. “If I focus on it enough.”

“For how long?”

“It depends on-”

“Stamina.” Bakugo butts into the conversation, walking up between them, shoulder bumping ruefully against his own. “How long can you tense your muscles? He can go for fuckin’ hours.”

Eijirou takes a second, assesses the situation, and then bumps Bakugo’s shoulder with his own. Smiling at Momo—it’s not an apology, and it doesn’t need to be one. He’s not the explosive boy’s keeper—he adds on, “It also depends if I’m sore or anything. Like if my wrist is sprained, I can’t really harden it well or long.”

“Ah.” She nods. “I hadn’t thought about that. So you harden mostly for defense then.”

Bakugo’s shoulders bristle as if he’s offended, but this time he doesn’t snap at her.

“I’m actually really good at offense too, like, I actually think it’s pretty even, though I know a lot of my fights don’t really look like that.” A lot of times his offense will look like defense too, but that’ll be good to fake out villains—at least, according to Aizawa.

“I’m good at both too, just not as much as you, though I like to think I’m still growing.” Nodding,  Momo goes to continue, only for one of Jiro’s earphone jacks to tug on her wrist, pulling her forward towards her girlfriend, running into Kaminari as she goes.

Typical.

Bakugo is still silent.

Any other day, Eijirou wouldn’t be worried. Unless he has something worthwhile or insulting to say, he genuinely just isn’t the kind of guy to strike up a conversation without someone addressing him first. He’s either too quiet, or explosively loud.

There’s not a good inbetween, or, not one he’s found.

“Hey, Blasty,” He bumps their shoulders together again (and pointedly does not grab his hand)(even if he really wants to). “I’m… I’m sorry if earlier was too much for you. It’s totally not manly to force stuff like that on someone, I thought you were into it but I’ll do better when asking.”

“It’s whatever,” Bakugo grumbles, side-eyeing him. “Just, why the fuck are you doing all this?”

Eijirou raises an eyebrow, “Describe ‘all this’.”

“No. You aren’t fuckin’ dumb, Shitty Hair.”

Which—fair enough.

“I just… you’re just-”

“Don’t fuckin’ say flirtable .”

There goes plan A.

Staring at him for a moment, the redhead rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, the other one reaching out to rest on his shoulders. “Can you just… I don’t know, like, trust this is something that I want to do. And know it’s fundamentally different from how I flirt with those losers.”

“You’re so damn infuriating.” Red eyes glare at him. “How is it different if you can’t even describe it?”

“Just… I don’t know, you’re you, so it means more. I guess.” It means everything . “I don’t touch them. Consider it like, special treatment, I guess. For my best bro!”

What a lame attempt, Eijirou chides himself.

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” Bakugo snaps.

The conversation ends there.

Midoriya’s friend group joins them not long after they get to their first raid of the night, a boba shop, and Bakugo immediately tenses up beside Eijirou. Bakugo’s tucked in the corner between him and Mina, glaring at just about everyone, and his hands are fisted in his pockets.

On the table top, a strawberry cream milk tea (with cherry chews!) sits, perfectly untouched.

“Can I pop that for you, Blasty?” Kaminari asks, seeming to have noticed the same—what his ADHD makes him lack in common sense, he makes up for with a gifted amount of good social skills. “I promise not to do anything weird! You know I like it, it’s so satisfying.”

“Do whatever you damn please.” Grumbling, Bakugo rolls his eyes.

Nonetheless, when Kaminari eagerly grabs the drink and punches the pink straw that goes along with it through the plastic, he finally starts to drink it. He doesn’t say thank you, but it’s Bakugo, so he doesn’t have to. By the sparkle in the electric boy’s eyes, he thinks the same.

Eijirou feels a little bit of his heart stitch back together, like something warm bubbling up in his chest.

“Hey Kacchan!” Midoriya ambles over to their table, overly aware but acting ignorant of the amount of danger he could be in and the amount of anxiety it looks like this is giving Todoroki over said danger. “Did you want to try mine? I got the strawberry milk tea with the yogurt bubbles.”

Their matching white cups would have been one of many straws that broke the camel’s back when they were in first year, it’s only better that they don’t have the same exact drink with their difference in boba, but still—normally this would have pissed Bakugo off to no extreme.

Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t like sharing food, whether it’s his or the other persons. And especially not Midoriya’s.

He acts like rambling is contagious.

“Piss off.” Bakugo says—and that’s all that he says. 

There’s no insults and no threats. There’s not him immediately throwing his drink away and getting a new one just because it seems like he and Midoriya are doing something together. This is more than a hint or a clue that he has changed; it’s proof.

“Alright!” Midoriya accepts this easily. “Do you want the leftover bubbles?”

The redhead watches eagerly, feeling like he’s missed something, and knowing Bakugo—it’s big. They… they act like they hang out alone together. Which makes him a bit ecstatic because they’re finally getting along!

This makes him grumble “Whatever.” which is absolutely astounding to Eijirou, and seemingly Midoriya too, because he grins as wide as he does after being praised by Aizawa before bouncing off to his table, Todoroki confusedly looking back at Bakugo.

Now he is openly hostile, but it only comes in the form of a raised finger.

Eijirou can’t help himself; he laughs.

“The hell is so funny, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo snarls out. “IcyHot fuckin’ deserved that shit. So goddamn annoying…”

“Nothing! Nothing, it’s just,” Shrugging, the redhead leans into Bakugo’s side more, making his scoff. “You’re being nice.”

“I’ve never heard such horse-shit in my entire fuckin’ life.”

“Only in the way you’re not being super mean!” He clarifies with waving hands.

“That is not being nice. You’re being a fuckin’— ” Red eyes stare at him. Hard. His cheeks turn a little pink and it doesn’t seem to make a single difference to Bakugo. “— dumbass .”

Kaminari leans across the table, a wicked grin on his face. “You rang?”

Bakugo reels back from the nice little bubble Eijirou stuck them in by leaning in. “Who the fuck ever said your name, Dunce Face?”

“Your name is not ‘dumbass’, Kaminari.” Jiro scolds, and he watches Shinsou wrap a hand around Kaminari’s wrist with amusement.

Bakugo huffs quietly beside him and Jiro and Kaminari start to bicker. “They’re pretty see-through, huh.”

“Yeah.” Eijirou agrees absentmindedly, thinking, I hope he can’t see through me like that.

Chapter Text

Katsuki Bakugo always wins, even when he doesn’t, he stays on top. 

He doesn’t have to win the battle, but he wins the war. He stays standing, even when it should be humanly possible, quirk or no quirk. And Eijirou is unshakeable, unmoveable. Nothing can get through him, he’s rock and a lighthouse all in one.

Together, they could bring down the sky; split the earth in half.

Late at night, Eijirou muses about this. 

Before, the class has been thankful that Midoriya and Todoroki are on their side, noting what it’s like when they go wrong, and Iida has already tried to justice kill someone even as a strict hero, and people say all the time how Bakugo would make a good villain.

But god, they could take over the world together.

Nobody could stop them.

Midoriya always looks scared when Bakugo’s being nice, like it’s a trick, and because of that, the rest of the class treats it like one. Sometimes, they even scold him for it—punishing the same behavior they also tell him off for not displaying. 

Eijirou thinks he’d be beyond confused as Bakugo.

It’s well known that Bakugo’s parents didn’t enforce standards on behavior and his school enforced terrorizing the weak, meaning Deku himself, but left to his own devices, Bakugo has tried to be better, learning that’s not the way the world works.

He even got into therapy!

He apologized without being asked to once .

It was a fascinating thing to watch, Bakugo going from failing to get his provisional license because of the worst bedside manner UA had ever seen to the caring hero he is now—who will check on civilians and his teammates before going in for round two.

But now, the world that shattered when he learned everywhere isn’t like where he grew up hasn’t been put back together.

Because everything Katsuki Bakugo does right is treated like a weapon in his hands. 

And everything he does wrong is like a minefield; one explosion after another. He is confused and hurt, and lonely even if he won’t admit it. There’s no winning, when it comes to him, but there’s also no losing either—which makes it all seem okay from the outside.

It’s not, not to Eijirou.

So when Bakugo slams a container down on the counter at the front of the room—there’s a potluck for parent-teacher conferences, the last one they’ll ever have at UA, also a celebration of sorts—and everyone looks scared to touch it, Eijirou is already sad.

God, like, he knows a lot of the class doesn’t trust him but acting like he’ll poison them is something else.

“Woah, Bakugo baked! Dibs!” Kaminari shouts, shooting away from a now disappointed-looking Shinsou in order to pick up the lid, gawking at what’s inside. “Dude… how did you even make these? Aren’t they, like, super difficult? I’m going to have a sugar crash just looking at them.”

“It’s not fucking hard when you know what you’re doing.” Bakugo grumbles, crossing his arms. 

Mina has managed to weasel a party hat onto everyone in their group, Shinsou and Jiro, at Kaminari’s request, and it makes Eijirou a little giddy to not see him immediately pull it off. He didn’t even treat his Santa hat as kindly as this, and it was probably better to wear.

“What are they?” Eijirou asks, tucking Bakugo under one arm and holding Kaminari’s shoulders with the other as he leans into the dish. “Woah! Hokkaido Custard Milk Tarts —” He reads off the side. “—with like, proper glaze? Dude… this is really cool of you.”

“Whatever.” Even though he huffs, this is Bakugo for ‘thank you’ so Eijirou finds himself grinning. “The hell d’you bring?”

The redhead smiles, wider than he probably has a right to. “Matcha swiss rolls.” He pauses. “Packaged. I’m not good with my hands!”

“You’re fuckin’ hopeless.” Bakugo says this, but there’s an affection in his voice that makes Eijirou feel giddy.

He really likes that they’re ‘friends’ again.

“Get together.” Aizawa shouts over the room—Present Mic, who’s watching 3-A while their teacher is in conferences, next to him—not even ten seconds after entering. “Line up alphabetically, your parents are coming in that order.”

“Yo, class!” Present Mic waves. “He totally told them different times.”

Eijirou rolls his eyes and hears Mina’s typical! alongside an eye roll over the crowd. He grins and shakes his head, watching as Iida stands straight, raising his hand. “Sir!” He exclaims. “Is it alphabetical based on family name or given name?”

Aziwa shrugs. “Probably family name.”

“Understood!”

“Such an ass kisser.” Bakugo says, rolling his eyes, watching as Aizawa walks into a small office. 

Present Mic points to the line of chairs on the side of the room, and calls for A-H kids. Huffing, the explosive boy looks purely murderous as he has to sit between Asui and Hagakure, and Mina being in that group isn’t made up for anything because so is Aoyama and he’s bragging about being first.

Aoyama’s mother, unsurprisingly, is just as… shiny as he is.

And just as annoyingly French, though if Eijirou’s honest, her accent sounds fake.

Mina’s parents are awesome, her dad has darker pink skin and basically has this slime quirk she said makes his sneezing funny, and her mom has horns and a deer’s nose, and the adorable short stature that Mina has—all three of them leave the room laughing.

Her little brother, Chikao, is such a clever kid, but unfortunately pointed out Eijirou’s dyed hair in front of Ojiro, which caused a lot of questions he didn’t really want to answer this late into knowing one another. Still, he probably went through half of Sato’s massive display of sweets alone.

“His sugar crash later is going to be crazy.” Eijirou tells Mr. Ashido.

The older man chuckles. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen him during the New Year Parade.”

“I’ve seen Mina eat her weight in chocolate bunnies and pirouettes, so I feel like I already have.”

“And you’re still around?” Mrs. Ashido claps him on the back. “Brave man.”

Eijirou gives them a megawatt smile and by then Asui’s dad is coming out.

Ganma Asui looks a bit like a toad, well, not just a bit, a definite amount and Eijirou finds himself really happy to shake his hand and discover that he has the same finger-pads as Asui. He’s just as animated and snarky, but not as ribbity as his daughter.

Meanwhile, if you take out the frog thing, his wife, Beru, looks like Asui's twin. 

This is when Eijirou discovers that Asui has two little siblings, Satsuki and Samidare, and they look just like their mom too. When he pictured her family, he pictured a half-frog mom and a more normal dad, and a weirder older brother—and finds himself pleasantly surprised.

Then it’s Bakugo’s turn.

His mom—who, if Eijirou thought any kid looked like their parent, it’d be Bakugo and her, forget about Asui and Baru—bursts through the door, already yelling about Bakugo’s grades, something like, “I don’t care about the A’s, Masaru! Did you see -”

And then his dad, brown hair and eyes, hands popping with little explosions as he tries to respond casually, literally just grabs! Bakugo by the back of the neck and Bakugo lets him drag him into Aziawa’s room without even knocking first or acknowledging anyone in the room.

Bakugo just acted like that was status quo, didn’t even flinch when his dad grabbed him.

Eijirou finds himself staring at the door, shocked.

“That was a little rough, yeah?” Kaminari asks from the side, letting out an anxious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Group chat?” Saying this, he really means to talk about it without these ears but it doesn’t even matter because then there’s Shinsou at his side, saying—

“So his parents are total shit, right? ‘Splains a lot.”

“What?” Eijirou snaps his head over to him. “What do you mean?” Should he feel light headed right now? “Explains what?”

Shinsou shrugs. “I’m not starting everything. Other foster kids were mad like Bakugo when they had shitty parents. It’s a normal thing.”

“He wasn’t adopted.” Kaminari says.

“That much is obvious.” A pause. “Can I be in this ‘group chat’?”

Eijirou hesitates, and then glances at Kaminari, who nods. “It’s not for drama. It’s to try and… y’know, help Bakugo. Well, not help him. Just be his friends.”

Shinsou stares at him for a moment, purple eyes giving away not a single piece of emotion. “If I’m going to be around Denki, I’ve got to be friends with Bakugo anyway.” A pause. “Even if his personality leaves more than enough to be desired…”

“Okay, that’s fair. I’ll ask the group.” 

Kaminari goes over towards where Sero—the one least likely to check his phone—is laughing with Kouda and Shoji, and Eijirou moves over towards where Mina is laughing with her parents, some of Tokoyomi’s nigiri dish in hand. “Hey, Mina!”

“Hey!” She turns, grin wide and unaware. “You’ve gotta try this!”

With that, she stuffs one of the spiced salmon pieces in his mouth, chopsticks grating against his sharp teeth. “Wow,” He says, hand raising so he doesn’t speak with a mouthful. “T’is ‘ood!”

“Your classmates are all very talented, Eijirou,” Mrs. Ashido compliments, ruffling his hair, knocking the party hat sideways. “Oops! That includes you, too. I’m so glad that our Mina could come here with someone she knows.” She takes his hands, and unease pools in his stomach. “You made all these years easier.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” He scratches the back of his head, thinking, this is so unmanly . “Can I borrow her, actually.”

“Be our guest!” Mr. Ashido says, waving with his hands. “Present Mic invited us over with some other parents to show us some videos. So, as Mina would say, B-R-B!”

Giggling, Mrs. Ashido drags her husband away, talking animatedly about how one of the videos is a compilation of their quirk growth.

“He’s so embarrassing, but I love him.” Mina says amusedly the moment that her parents are out of earshot. Then, she sees his face, and the redhead’s stomach continues to stir. “What? What’s going on?”

“Bakugo’s dad, like, he just—grabbed him, like, by the back of the neck and dragged him into Aziawa’s office… and it, it was unsettling.” Eijirou shrugs, but it’s more because he just wants this to be him turning a mountain out of a molehill instead of something real. “Even Shinsou noticed it.”

She frowns, and then holds up her phone. “Wanna talk about next steps?”

Suddenly, Midoriya is right there , and makes both of them jump. “Oh! Sorry! I just, well, I overheard—I’m sorry! Sometimes I can’t help but eavesdrop, I just, I wanted to know if you noticed or if anything’s wrong, and you did! Can I… me and Kacchan have known each other our whole lives.”

Green eyes flick between red ones, and he looks just as serious as when they’re in battle.

Something inside of Eijirou drops.

“Let me help.”

Blasty Protection Squad

President Kiri

r u guys all ok if we add shinsou n deku in here ?

VP Mina

I voted yes out loud!!

Manager Sero

uh
i guess so

Member Denki

Yeah! :)

President Kiri

adding them now !

President Kiri added H. Shinshou and I. Midoriya

VP Mina changed H. Shinshou ’s nickname to Member Shinsou
VP Mina changed I. Midoriya ’s nickname to Member Deku
Member Denki changed Member Deku ’s nickname to Member Midoriya

Member Shinsou

Fill me in.

Member Midoriya

I’m okay being called Deku now guys!!
/gen

President Kiri

this is NOT to be told to anyone outside of this group, not anyone else in the class, verbally or in screenshots n I cannot stress enough the amount of social/ physical pain I will put anyone in, including my own bsf, if they do share it n it becomes another popular drama thing

VP Mina

Oh shit we’re getting serious
Agreed!

Manager Sero

yeah

Member Denki

Okay!

Member Shinsou

Alright.

Member Midoriya

I won’t!!!

President Kiri

for a while now, we’ve thought that Baku could be getting abused by his parents
-summer behavior
-general behavior
-personality traits
-the way he pushes himself
i actually don’t have time to explain everything, so if u don’t want to believe me, leave the chat, srsly

VP Mina

I’m okay kicking ppl to !
/threat

Manager Sero

that isnt how /ti work

Member Denki

Let the woman live!! >:(

Member Shinsou

We believe you, Kirishima.

Member Midoriya

I could write 20 page essays on why you’re right /srs

President Kiri

his mom walked in screaming about Baku’s grades (even tho we all know that he is top of the class and probs has a 5.0 tbh so that’s ridiculous) and his dad didn’t even greet him, just grabbed him by the back of his neck and like ‘hauled’ him into A’s office

VP Mina

Is Blasty’s explosions not effective against his dad because he got it from him?

Member Midoriya

Masaru’s not explosion proof…
I doubt that Kacchan would even fight back

Manager Sero

blasty always fights back

Member Denki

He didn’t this time :((

Member Shinsou

He looked like a kitchen when you grab them by the back of the neck.
Like he didn’t even know/care what was going on.

President Kiri

exactly
which led me to believe that that behavior is normal

Member Denki

If they’re willing to act like this in public I’d be scared to be behind closed doors with them :/

Member Midoriya

We’re neighbors, when we go home
Idk if I should be sharing this, but Mitsuki just screams constantly, like, I can hear it no matter where I am in the house sometimes
Summers are so bad
Only like 2/10 times will Kacchan yell back, but Masaru never will

VP Mina

Do you know why he won’t respond to any of us during the summer?

Manager Sero

god

Member Denki

Does he get grounded ??? D:

Member Midoriya

You all know how snoopy I am but I swear sometimes it’s not even like he’s grounded, I can tell when he’s in his room.
Sometimes, it’s just like he doesn’t exist anymore. 

Maybe he’s leaving but I’ve never seen him leave and when he has been kicked out, he just comes to my duplex, and those times I’ve also never seen him come back

President Kiri

maybe he sleeps in the living room ?

VP Mina

Or like the basement???

Member Midoriya

He doesn’t have a basement :/
I can’t see Mitsuki tolerating him in the living room constantly to be honest

President Kiri

what do we do ?

VP Mina

Can we even do anything?

Member Denki

I have a bad feeling guys
Like, something bad is going to happen

Member Midoriya

Even if we could do anything, do you think that Kacchan will even let us?

Manager Sero

hell let kiri

The entire room is silence by the door to Mr. Aizawa’s makeshift office being kicked open, Mrs. Bakugo’s shout filling the air, undisguisable between Bakguo’s own shouting and Mr. Bakugo’s attempts at placating them, with brief interruptions from Aizawa.

Bakugo’s the one that kicked open the door, looking to get out, and then, in front of the whole room, Mrs. Bakugo grabs Bakugo by the hair and pulls! him roughly down on the floor, making an angry growl sound out from his throat, one Eijirou has heard often in training.

Bakugo’s eyes aren’t closed, but they’re in a tight wince, and when Eijirou steps forward, moving to try and help, he sees a weird slime across his cheek and on Mrs. Bakugo’s wrist (and it feels like a betrayal, giving someone who’s so obviously hurting him, his own name).

Eijirou realizes with a sick feeling in his gut that Bakugo’s mom is using her quirk on him .

“For the last time, you are staying here! ” Mrs. Bakugo shouts, dragging Bakugo backwards, he winces, and Mr. Bakugo closes the door, his wife’s voice echoing out in anger, “This boy doesn’t deserve to be a—”

Silence.

Pure, uncomfortable silence.

Right up until a voice from the open door says “ What did I just walk into?” and from the space above Hagakure’s uniform, she shouts back to call for her dad.

Then, who looks just like a model—one green eye, one yellow eye with the left side of her hair being light blonde and the other side being pink, just like Mina, but her pupil is clear and see-through—wraps Hagakure in a hug, cooing out, “Oh, how is your day, my little mini-me?”

Midoriya’s hand wraps around Eijirou’s arm in the same moment that Aoyama starts to gawk. “ Mademoiselle Hagakure, that’s what you look like? Oh la la ~”

“Relax.” Deku says, pulling further on the arm that Eijirou realizes is fully hardened. “If you bust in there, she’ll only hurt him more. Aizawa is there. Trust he’ll know what to do. Look, look at Present Mic and the other parents.” He motions towards where Mr. Asui and Mrs. Ashido are trying to persuade him about something.

“They saw?” Eijirou asks. “They’re trying to get him help?”

“Fighting will be the opposite of help. I’ve tried for years, and this thing is delicate. Kacchan will deny everything .”

“He won’t deny it to me.” Saying this confidently, the redhead keeps looking right at the doors. “He… you’re different, to him. You’ve known him for so long, your relationship is so difficult to navigate, even from the outside. Me and him, we’re not complicated.”

Not in the ways that it matters, at least.

“Get her away from that boy!” Mrs. Ashido says, horns catching in the light. “That was inappropriate! Quirk use as corporate punishment was outlawed for a reason. I work for the government, I know something is wrong when I see it!”

“Isn’t that boy at the top of the class?” Mrs. Aoyama asks. “If that’s how you let people treat your top student I hate to see how you treat my precious little Yuga!”

“Why was someone allowed on campus?” Mr. Ashido asks. “Will other parents be allowed to treat Mina like that?”

“We’re all aware of the situation and Eraserhead is managing it, I can assure you!” Present Mic waves his hands, trying to calm them all down. “Security will come and escort them out, just as you were all allowed in, and I promise no other students will be harmed! Please calm down.”

Chorus of disagreements go up, Eijirou watches as Midoriya’s friends group up, his own walking towards him, and the rest of his peers are hanging off one another, whispering. Making it a thing. Talking about Bakugo, asking questions. He’s dead sure that he, Shinsou and Mrs. Ashido are the only ones who saw what happened.

The three of them were by the door when it happened—everyone else just heard Mrs. Bakugo yell, they didn’t see her hurting him.

Hagakure and her dad are a question mark. Eijirou keeps track of eyes.

“The sooner we move on from the situation and let the professionals handle it while you keep track of your own children, young adults and allow me to watch the students whose parents aren’t here yet, the easier it will be for the student involved.”

Mrs. Hagakure raises her hand, and Eijirou is yet again struck by how she looks. “As a social worker for what, eight years now, honey,” He’s assuming Mr. Hagakure nods (and wonders how she can see him). “I can confirm. Allow the boy to breathe after the yelling, and let the security guards escort other parents out.”

“Asking questions won’t help anyone.” Mr. Asui adds on. “As a therapist, I can tell you that. It isn’t our business, even if we’re all naturally curious.”

Murmuring goes around, but by then Sero and Kaminari, who are dragging Mina and Shinsou with them, arrive at Eijirou and Midoriya’s side. Mina, of course, is the first one to speak. “What even happened? Blasty’s mom sounded so mad, did he do something.”

Eijirou feels nauseous.

“Even if he did, like, that wouldn’t be right.” Kaminari says.

“Not saying it would,” Mina says defensively, dark eyes turning on him. “Just asking what caused it.”

“She’s always like that.” Midoriya says, easily defusing the situation. “No matter if he’s mad first or not.”

Sero nods. “She was like that in the entrance video as well, she yelled and like, grabbed his head to push him down and stuff. They were on a couch, so it wasn’t dangerous, but still.”

Red eyes turning to look at him, Eijirou grits his teeth before speaking. “You watched that?”

“It’s still in the school records, you can look up everyone’s. After our first talk, I kind of stalked the whole Bakugo family, honestly. Did you know his dad’s a secretary of some weird company? In every single video of his mom, she’s just like him—yelling and the likes.”

Defensively, Midoriya butts in with, “He’s not always yelling, he’s just loud.”

Staring at Deku like he’s dumb, Sero asks, “You think I don’t know that.”

“Back to the topic?” Shinsou says, almost like he’s bored.

Eijirou’s jaw ticks, and his back teeth start to hurt from how much pressure he’s been putting on them. “I’m sorry, I can’t just stand here while Bakugo’s being hurt because it’s more convenient for his mom.”

“It’s not more convenient, Kirishima.” Shinsou—instead of Midoriya, like he’d expect—is the one that steps in his way. “Next weekend, right before the last marking period, we have a break. We go home before graduating for the first time. If she gets pissed off now and he goes home, and she is abusing him, it will be bad . Which is why Aziawa hasn’t interfered.”

“I hate this.” Is his response.

“We all do.” Mina says, putting her hand on his arm.

Sero raises his hand. “What happened?”

“What we worried about.”

“Oh, shit .”

Chapter Text

Mrs. Bakugo leaves Aizawa’s office looking less like she has something to fight and more like she’s eating a lemon, but his dad leaves the room with him, hand on his shoulder. Eijirou watches them like a hawk, just about everyone staring alongside him.

Bakugo stops walking, and his dad runs into his back.

The silence in the room is a strange sort of deafening, where they all know something bad just happened but no one really knows what to do, or say. The redhead can see the anger and defensiveness seep into Bakugo in a single moment, the tensing of his shoulders, the realization that something is wrong.

“Yo, yo, yo! Bakubro!” Kaminari sings. He doesn’t give pause—stare—act weirdly—just bounds right up the blond, wraps his arm around his shoulders (and Eijirou realizes he’s pulling him away from his dad, getting a physical boundary in the way) and leads him straight to the group. “Did you hear the news?”

Bakugo lets out a snarl. “What news? Get the fuck off me!”

Kaminari laughs, and pulls away from him, grinning wide. “Aizawa expelled Mineta.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Shinsou drawls, voice an exasperated sigh. The whole group starts muttering, Mina shaking at Sero’s shoulders, Midoriya mumbling to himself. “He was going to make an announcement during Mineta’s turn today.”

Eijirou lets out a shaky breath, trying to ease some of the tension in his body.

“Tsk,” Bakugo sucks on his teeth. “Why do y’know that, mind-fuck?”

“Yeah, Hito,” Kaminari teases. “Why do you know that?”

“I’m in the foster system and Aizawa watches after me.”

Mina makes a face, wrapping one arm around Kaminari and the other around Shinsou. “That got depressing real quick. Anyway, Blasty! Introduce me to your dad!”

“Introduce yourself to him, I’m not his fuckin’ keeper.” Scoffing this out, it seems to snap Midoriya out of his mumbling-vortex, because he’s suddenly perking up, shouting Mr. Bakugo’s name, and bolting over to where he’s talking to Present Mic.

Eijirou watches, confused at how someone who claims to want the best for Bakugo—to protect him!—can so easily smile in the face of someone who abuses him .

Then he sees Bakugo turn and watch his father greet Midoriya with a rival, relieved smile and hugs him. Hugs him like he means it, like he misses him. He steps closer, shoulder to shoulder with Bakugo, and listens in, catching the end of Mr. Bakugo’s sentence.

“—proud of you, son.”

“Thanks! Honestly, I—”

Bakugo’s face falls, just for a second—so fast that Eijirou almost thinks he made it up—before it morphs into anger, one eye nearly twitching as he makes the expression.

“Has Midoriya always been close with your parents?” Asking this, he turns to face Bakugo.

But the blond just keeps glaring Midoriya down like it’s his birthright. “I guess. Mom loves him. Fuckin’ Deku.”

He finally understands why Bakugo is so angry, just a little bit, because he realizes that he had to watch this happen. Had to watch his parents look at him like they do, angry, exasperated, completely devoid of affection, and then turn to a boy who isn’t their son, a would-be stranger, and smile .

“Sorry, man,” Eijirou says, patting his shoulder. “That sounds really frustrating. Totally unmanly of your dad.”

Red eyes finally slide over to him, considering him for a moment—face still angry, but there’s nothing behind his eyes that fit that. They’re blank. Neutral. Very un-Bakugo-like. He lets out a breath, opens his mouth to say something, and then Kaminari is releasing a high-pitch noise and shoving past them both to jump in his dad’s arms.

In a moment, Bakugo is back to his angry self, shouldering away from him.

“Don’t talk about my dad, Shitty Hair.”

Hagakure’s mom and Asui’s dad have cornered Mr. Bakugo in a way that makes Eijirou happy, and Midoriya is half into a hushed conversation with Present Mic when Bakugo grabs him by the back of the shirt and shoves him out into the hallway. 

Eijirou watches Todoroki carefully—watching as he notices it happen and excuses himself from where Iida’s family roped him into a conversation. Then he steps between him and the doorway.

“Hey, Todoroki!” He grins, head tilting to the side. “Looking really manly there? Is your mom coming?”

“My mother and siblings are coming, yes.” Heterochromatic eyes regard him uneasily, lips downturned in a sigh. “I know what you’re doing, please get out of my way. It’s improper to fight right now, Kirishima.”

He just keeps smiling and shakes his head. “Nah. Bakubro’s not gonna hurt Midoriya, and even if he did, Midoriya’s a big boy. He let himself get dragged away, and even the teacher didn’t stop him. You’re not in-the-know, but this is important, so back off.”

Midoriya, frustratingly, seems to be the one who actually understands what’s going on in Bakugo’s home life. 

Despite being his concerned boyfriend, Todoroki is not going to get in the way of Bakugo’s help (even if he’d rather kill Deku before admitting that he’s his savior). So he crosses his arms and grins a little sharper. They both know that Todoroki can’t get through him.

Yes—his quirk is powerful.

But because he’s fire and ice, he can’t go all out in a way that would stop Eijirou in a room like this.

“You don’t know what is happening between them.” Todoroki says, arms crossing. “This is annoying.”

The redhead mimics his posture. “What is annoying is you not giving Bakugo the benefit of the doubt. C’mon Todoroki, man up! You’re a smart guy, you know change when you see it. He’s not the same guy he was last year, let alone when he was twelve.”

“He is still just as cruel.”

“Rude.” Eijirou corrects.

“Pardon?”

“Bakubro is rude, not cruel. Dude, he was the only one, including me and including your duo-quirk-having ass that gave mercy in our last exercise—also including your precious, so fragile boyfriend.” He hates his head to himself. “Comparatively speaking, you’re the cruel one.”

Todoroki blinks at him. “A single exercise cannot determine that.”

“You want more examples? I can give you more examples, first of all-”

“Shitty Hair,” Bakugo himself snaps, and Eijirou finds himself smirking at Todoroki. His distraction totally worked! “You’re in the fuckin’ way.”

“Sorry, bro.” He finally moves out the way, and Midoriya just brushes past them mumbling, and heads straight for Mr. Bakugo, pulling something up on his phone. “What’s he up to?”

“Deku? Showing my dad he texted the hag he wants blueberry cupcakes.”

Eijirou wrinkles his nose, head tilting to the side. “Uh.. why?”

Honestly, Bakugo looks ready to tell him anything between none of your fuckin’ business, Shitty Hair and because he wants them, dumbass , but then he pauses, looks at Todoroki, scoffs and then grabs the redhead by the arm (yay!) and drags him away. “‘Cause he knows the hag will tell her old man to get his ass in the car, ‘cause precious baby boy wants cupcakes.”

“O…kay, why didn’t you just tell her that yourself?” He lets him get pulled.

Bakugo squeezes his wrist. “You think she gives a fuck what I want? Idiot.”

Suddenly, Mom—both his moms! He didn’t see Mama there, behind Mom’s tall frame. Eijirou loves his parents!—is standing in front of them, dark brown eyes glaring at Bakugo, who stops in his tracks, shoulders squaring as his lips raise in a scowl back.

“Can I fuckin’ help you lady?”

“Oh, um, Blasty, that’s-”

“Don’t call my son an idiot.”

Blinking, eyebrows raising, the explosive boy glances between Eijirou’s two moms. He gets it, they don’t look much alike, especially since he dyed Mama’s inherited black hair away, and Mom only has red eyes when she activates her quirk (muscle regeneration!) (yes like Aizawa) but he does have her sharp teeth.

“Why not?” He questions, and Eijirou face-plants, already planning a long-winded apology to his parents. “He’s being one.”

“Awh, c’mon, Blasty,” Eijirou whines, going to cross his arms but realizing Bakugo isn’t letting go of him. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s new, so he says nothing. But the way he’s gripping him like he needs him—it definitely messes with his head a bit. “You don’t tell someone’s mom that. So unmanly.”

“Yo—if you have two moms, why the fuck are you so focused on being manly?”

“C’mon, Bakubro, have some manners!”

“Whatever.” Rolling his eyes, the blond sticks his hands in his pocket, finally releasing Eijirou, when Mama bows and offers a hug. “‘M Bakugo.”

“Sorry. He, uh, he doesn’t touch people.” Eijirou explains, when he notices Mom isn’t moving past her glare and Mama puts her arms down. Most of his friends dive into her hold. “It’s not personal.”

Brown eyes slide up to him, and a hip gets checked to the side. Uh-oh. This is her serious face! “The boy was touching you .”

The redhead feels himself blush, and ignores the implications. “This is Bakugo Katsuki, he doesn’t actually think I’m an idiot—” Bakugo makes a huff that loosely translates to speak for yourself but he hopes they don’t know that. “—Blasty, these are my moms. Be nice.”

Mama smiles nicely while Mom frowns. “I’m Kirishima Tsubame, this is my wife, Rin.”

“You’re Shitty Hair’s moms?” Bakugo barges on, seeming to not realize that name is offensive after using it for so many years. “What’re your quirks?”

“Oh.” Mama says, a smile kept. “I’m quirkless, but Rin has a muscle regeneration quirk.”

Mom is quiet for a moment before asking, “‘Shitty Hair’.”

Bakugo, at least, looks ashamed for just a moment, and as Eijirou steps forward to side-hug his mama, he feels a strong hand grab his wrist again. He’s intimidated , Eijirou realizes, and grins sharp; protective. “Oh, sorry! He gives everyone in his inner circle a dumb nickname. Some sound inappropriate, but I promise it’s part of his love language.”

“This is the slu-”

“Top of the class?” Eijirou quickly interrupts—feeling guilty about it. He just didn’t want Mom to say  ‘sludge kid’ in front of him. God, this is so unmanly. “Yup! He gets the highest marks. And goes to bed at eight thirty.” He finds himself snickering.

“You laugh mister,” Mama ruffles his hair, and Eijirou tries to fix it with a whine. “But I’m sure you’d get better marks if you got good sleep too.”

“Nuh-uh, ‘cause he wakes up at five!” Well, not when he’s in the bed (he doesn’t mention this part). “Anyway! I’m glad to see you guys, did you already see Mr. Aizawa? Are you impressed? It’s cool how manly I am when I’m at school, isn’t it?”

“We didn’t see Aizawa yet, but we already know we’re proud of you.” Mama says.

Mom adds on, “And yes, you being manly is, uh, very cool.”

She’s as awkward as always but he loves it.

“Kirishima’s!” Present Mic’s voice bursts through the air. “You’re up!”

Mama kisses his head and Mom gives him a warning look and Bakugo a nod, and then they’re off, easily sliding into the room with their teacher, making Eijirou let out an anxious breath. He’s glad that went so… can he call it well? He doesn’t know, but it’s certainly better than bad.

Red eyes level at him, and Bakugo drops his hand. It’s like warmth rushes out of his body.

“Don’t ever apologize for me again. I mean the shit I say and do.”

Bakugo goes to stand in a corner talking to Inko Midoriya, Deku standing in front of them like a shield from the prying eyes, and Eijirou can only imagine what that conversation is like. He wonders if Midoriya’s mom had to forgive him, or if she even knew what he put her son through.

Either way, Bakugo seems just as close with Ms. Midoriya and Midoriya seems with the Bakugo’s.

This time, though, there’s no trouble.

They’ve got through nearly everyone, Todoroki’s entire family—including his ‘dead’ brother which they’re all ignoring looks just like a certain villain—is the one being seen by Aizawa, with only Tokoyami (who’s family looks nothing like he’d expect) and Yaomomo who’s left.

Which means while Eijirou is talking with Mina, Kaminari and Sero, his moms were supposed to be mingling with other parents but apparently were able to witness him glancing over at Bakugo one too many times, so just when Shinsou comes up to Kaminari to ask if he can adopt his dad, Mom is there dragging him away from the group.

“Tell me what’s going on.” She demands, arms crossed. “You’re acting weird.”

He grins, nervous, not knowing what’s okay to say. "Define weird.”

“Eijirou.” Mom says, voice flat. “You are not the kid who does that.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back of his head, reminding himself to man up . “I uh… I dunno. I think B—uh, the um, sludge kid, might be getting hurt at home? Maybe. I’m not sure how. I thought just like, verbally at first, but then I saw his parents pull on his hair, shove him, push him around and… I don’t know, Mom.”

She’s quiet for just a few moments, before nodding, therapist voice on, arms crossing. “Tell me more.”

“Mom, I can’t… it’s his business, y’know? He’d be pissed if he knew I was talking to you.”

“Fire, Ei. You’re dangerously close to it.”

A pause, weighing the pros and cons.

“It starting in first year—”

Aizawa is finished talking to the parents but is nowhere to be found, so Present Mic and Jiro’s mom—who can use her fingers like earphone jacks like her daughter’s ears—are banning together to create a karaoke corner where most of 3-A has flooded towards.

In the sheer chaos of Kaminari and Sero dragging Kirishima on stage to sing the opening of Soul Eater, Mina on recording duty as an avid Soul Eater Not fan (one of the biggest disagreements in their friendship thus far), he failed to realize that Bakugo and the Midoriya’s also disappeared.

At least, until Todoroki (the real one) comes up to him, mixed eyes trying to remain neutral but obviously worried. “Where’s Midoriya?”

“Deku was last with his mom and Blasty, they’re…” He turns to look at the corner, and finds it empty. “Uh. Kidnapped, maybe.”

“Not funny to joke about, Kirishima.”

“Hey, Blasty gave me permission.”

His arms cross over one another, and Eijirou grins at the sheer, trying-to-be-stoic defiance that Todoroki is radiating. “If you see him, please tell me or Ochoka that you did. He also isn’t answering his phone.”

“Okay, but if he’s with his mom and Bakugo,” The redhead shrugs. “Then Deku’s pretty safe.”

Todoroki stares at him for just a moment, then walks away. 

Eijirou wished he believed him.

Just because Mom, and subsequently Mama, took the news of Bakugo being an ex-bully and currently abused child very understandably, doesn’t mean that Todoroki, a previously abused child who never bullied anyone, could too. Eijirou gets that, everyone scars over differently.

Unfortunately, the people who scar better, who get angry at just the right people, they don’t get the ones like Bakugo. And Eijirou understands that too.

“Hey, Shinsou,” Eijirou grabs at the insomniac’s arm, making him blink at him, not even startled from being stopped from walking. He scans the room constantly, watches people like a hawk, and reads things over their shoulder. He’d know. “Where are Blasty and Deku?”

“In Aizawa’s real office portalling in some of his family that Bakugo can, quote,” He actually turns his quirk on, mocking Bakugo’s voice, “‘Can fuckin’ stand’.”

“Yo! Good Bakubro impression!” Kaminari shouts, wrapping an arm around his crush’s shoulder. “What’re we walking about?”

Shinsou keeps the voice on. “‘None of your business, Sparky!’”

“Oo, oo,” Mina waves her hand. “Me next!”

“‘Shut up, Pink Alien!’” He snaps back.

This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?

Eijirou feels guilty for having fun.

After every confusing thing that happened today, that feeling of protectiveness is still coiled tight in his stomach. He wants Bakugo under his arm; he wants to scream at his mom how could you! Instead, he’s giggling arm in arm with Mina and Kaminari watching as Sero and Shinsou judge them.

His smile is tight and his laugh is just a second too late to be truly real, and he keeps glancing up to looks around for those red eyes.

“He’ll come back in soon, Kiri, don’t worry!” Kaminari, the ever socially-mindful, chirps. “And you’ll get to meet his real family.”

“Who says that old hag and my dad aren’t my real family, Sparky? Fuck off.”

All of them whip around to find Bakugo standing there, arms crossed, pissed off as usual, but then Eijirou has to do a double take because there’s a little girl hugging his leg and an old lady grabbing his shoulder . The girl has brown hair but the same red eyes as Bakugo does.

“ What did you say? ” The old lady demands in what he thinks is Italian, maybe Spanish.

“ Nothin’, Nonna ,” Bakugo replies in the same language, rolling his eyes. “ These are my friends .”

“ They look real confused for being your friends, Pop Rocks. ”

Ah! Eijirou wishes he was multilingual!

“Fire! Fire!” The little girl pulls on the side of Bakugo’s pants, and squeaks when Eijirou (and probably all the rest of the group) turns to look down at her. “Is he here?” Bakugo bends over, hiding the girl from sight, whispering to her in a gruff voice that the redhead can’t make out, it makes the girl squeal out in Italian, “ Really! ”

Mina’s nails start to hurt from how she’s excitedly digging into his arm, so Eijirou hardens it—but that only gives her the green light to squeeze him harder. “Is that a mini-Blasty? That’s so cute!”

Sero—normally the one that realizes they, as a group, are being impolite (shockingly, other than Bakugo)—steps forward and holds out his hand, making Eijirou wrinkle his nose. Do they do that in Italy? “I’m Sero, ma’am, I’m one of Blasty, er, Bakugo’s best friends.”

“ Oi, Pop Rocks, ” The old lady says that again, and Eijirou has a feeling she’s calling Bakugo something. Is it wrong he desperately wants to know about his childhood nicknames. Also, Fire? Is Fire a nickname too? Also, holy shit, he has a little sister? And a grandma! “ What’d he say? ”

Bakugo rises up again, the kid now fully hiding behind his leg, hands the only thing sticking out. It’s so, so cute that Eijirou finds himself shifting side to side, wanting to rush into his arms. “Eh? The fuck I miss?”

What did he miss?

Eijirou’s the one who didn’t know he has a little sister! It’s so cute!

“I introduced myself to—” Sero yelps as the old lady grabs his hand, giving it what looks like an overly firm shake. “—her!”

“ Nonna, be nice to him, they’re all Japanese! That’s Sero , the pink one is Mina, the blond is Sparky, his boyfriend is the purple guy, Shinsou, and-”

“ You must be Eijirou.” Oldie says firmly, sticking her hands out to Eijirou—who’s a little wigged out that Bakugo didn’t say his name and yet she knew anyone. Is that a good sign or a bad one? “ I can tell just by how you look at him, Pop Rocks .”

“ Gimme a fuckin’ second! She’s introducin’ herself, I’ll translate it in a minute, but first, fuck, wait, this was supposed to go different,” Bakugo bends down again, gets a high-pitched anger and then he’s suddenly holding out this small girl towards Eijirou with a serious look on his face, arms out straight. “Say it.”

“I’m Natori Bakugo! You’re my brother’s boyfriend!”

“That is not what I fuckin’ said!”

Chapter Text

Absolute chaos.

Eijirou stares absolutely dumbfounded.

“‘Boyfriend’ means boyfriend not best friend, that’s completely different. Say ‘best friend’,” Oh! Oh . It was a misunderstanding . Okay. Cool. So Bakugo hasn’t been telling his little sister they’re dating. Is he supposed to be disappointed? “God kid, you’re gonna get me in so much fuckin’ trouble .”

“Can’t he be both your boyfriend and best friend?”

“But he’s not! That’s fuckin’ important to note.”

“Why? I want him to be.”

“You don’t know him!”

Oh god. They’re causing such a scene.

Both of his parents are watching him—this will be so hard to explain later.

Mina shrieks and shakes Sero, Shinsou smirks and Kaminari steps towards Bakugo in a rage of spit-fire questions, hands moving alongside him, and at first what shakes the redhead out of it is the feeling of a certain blond about to kill another blond for getting too close to his little sister.

Because if Bakugo hates anyone in his personal space and is the most possessive, territorial person that Eijirou knows him to be about not only himself but those he considers his , even indirectly like Midoriya, certainly he’s that way when it comes to Natori .

But then Natori squeals and squirms in her big brother’s—Bakugo is a big brother!—arms, reaching out for Kaminari.

“Jesus fuck kid I’ll put you down, give me one fuckin’ second-”

“No! I want Sparky! You promised I could see him and he’s right there-”

“And you’re fucking embarrassing yourself! Is that what you want! ”

Eijirou wishes so badly that he could know how to speak Italian!

“Ah!” Natori shrieks, then starts speaking in angry French. “ Gran, he’s being mean! ”

“ Work it out between yourselves. ” The old lady waves a hand, and Eijirou struggles to catch up. “ I’m going to go find your teacher. Aizawa, was it? ”

“He knows JSL!” A pause, then Natori is turning and trying to bite Bakugo, making him almost haphazardly drop her. “Oi! You little shit, you’re gonna poison yourself. Stupid. ”

“Fireworks!” The little girl—maybe six?—stomps her foot, red eyes serious. Eijirou thinks he’s in shock. Is this what Bakugo was like as a kid? Probably. “You promised!”

“Fuck.” Bakugo runs a hand down his face and Mina conceals a squeal in her boyfriend’s shoulder. He thinks it’s funny, and completely on point, that he still curses around kids. Because of course he does, he’s Bakugo Katsuki. “I’ll introduce you.”

Natori shakes her brother’s hand excitedly. “Yes! Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me I haven’t done it yet!” The explosive boy turns to Kaminari, a puff in his chest, something close to pride and closer to embarrassment. “Oi, Pikachu, hang out with my little sister! Her name’s Natori, don’t call her anything stupid, alright dumbass?”

“Of course! I won’t! Um,” With a surprising air of self-preservation, Kaminari asks, “Why?”

Bakugo clenches his jaw. “...I talk about you dumb fuckers. You’re her favorite.”

“You’re better than All Might, Sparky.” Natori says, cheeks puffed out.

Her big brother’s jaw drops. “The fuck you just say? He is not better than-”

“Awh! Thank you, Baby Bakugo! Do you wanna call me Denki?”

She shakes her head. “I won’t remember that. No. I’m calling you Sparky . But you can call me Tori! Fire calls me Nat, but he says that no one else is allowed to call me that. Once, he bit Deku when he did it by accident. Even Nonna can’t use it.”

Mina raises her hands. “Fire?”

“Fireworks.” Natori points to Bakugo.

“It’s a nickname.” He growls out. “Get over it.”

Eijirou will absolutely not be getting over it, because that means that the nicknames that he gives them—Shitty Hair, Sparky, Alien, Tape Face—it’s all genuinely affectionate, the actual nice things his loving family does that makes him feel connected.

Which means he likes them! Genuinely.

People always like to say he’s mean because he doesn’t, but it’s not true at all. Sure, he doesn’t like remembering anyone else’s names, but that just makes them all the more special! Uraraka’s nickname changes on a tri-weekly basis, if it’s a good week.

That’s how Eijirou knows that Bakugo is actually their friend instead of just in close proximity.

When Natori moves forward to give Kaminari a very unprompted (but obviously not unwelcome hug, if his excited noise is anything to go by) the hair moves out from in front of Natori’s face—disheveled by her wrestling with Bakugo—and Eijirou sucks in a breath by what he sees.

A big burn scar, on the bottom left of her face, cupping over her cheek.

It’s a scar that he’s seen on villains after Bakugo’s been done with them; an explosion.

Bakugo’s hand lands on Eijirou’s wrist, squeezing hard, and red eyes shoot up to meet the other’s. “Don’t talk about it. She’s fuckin’ shy alright.” There’s a pause, where he looks uncertain and painfully vulnerable, and he shifts his weight. “I didn’t do it.”

Something inside of him breaks—cracks.

“I… Blasty, I would never think that.”

Red eyes flick over him. Not believing. “Whatever.”

Eijirou grins, because that’s as good as him saying I know and easily keeps up the conversation, turning so he can watch the little Natori talk animatedly to Kaminari and Mina, hair brushing out of her face makes him realize the scar leads up to a tiny white patch of hair.

Sero joins the conversation, shoulder to shoulder with Bakugo. “She’s a niña genial, kinda loud but what else would you expect from a Bakugo?” A pause, and Sero’s grin doubles, arms crossing casually. “Does she live with your grandma, then?”

“My parents were allowed to keep one kid with ‘em over the year and have us both in summer,” Bakugo explains and Eijirou watches as Sero’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised their friend is sharing. And yeah, he is too. “‘Cause I was old enough I told the court I wanna, so she gets to stay in Italy with nonna .”

“Why could they only keep one kid?”

Eijirou’s first guess? That scar.

Bakugo turns, and considers for a moment, before shrugging. “The old bat is kinda obsessed with having the perfect kid, or whatever, and doesn’t split her time well. Some shit fucked up her reputation in court so custody was a problem. Can’t fuckin’ believe she’s our god damn mother. Clearly the brains skipped a fuckin’ generation, or some shit.”

The black haired boy rolls his eyes playfully and takes everything in stride. “Yeah, clearly.”

“Bakugo!” Uraraka exclaims, and Eijirou holds in a groan at how tense Bakugo gets in less than a second. He was doing so well! He was relaxed and opening up . He was casually chatting without literally not a single threat. Ugh! “Is that your little sister?”

“None of your fuckin’ business who it is, Parade Float.” Bakugo snaps, arms crossing.

“Don’t curse in front of children, Bakugo.” Iida scolds. “It’s quite improper.”

“Bite me, asshole.”

Eijirou claps his hands and wraps his arms around Sero and Bakugo’s shoulders, moving to stand between them as if he had an amazing idea, grinning. “Blasty! I just had an amazing idea! Why don’t you and your mini-me teach us some Italian? That way we can talk to your grandma!”

“Yeah! It’s close to Spanish, I’ll pick up on it quick.” Sero brags, easily joining in, turning to Uraraka. “Sorry, Ura, we’ll talk later, ‘kay? I’m pretty sure that Aizawa’s doing like a family introduction thing. Roki seemed pretty annoyed by it, y’know.”

Uraraka frowns, but easily moves on when Iida dives into what he knows about the introduction.

Sero leans over Bakugo to whisper to them both. “Thank god that’s real, I was totally pulling that out of my culo .”

“Your what?” Mina asks, walking closer, Natori now pulling on the lightning streak in Kaminari’s hair, talking about quirks and ‘ultra bad guys’ and how she’s gonna be so cool when she grows up. And yeah. Definitely a Bakugo, by all means.

“My butt.” Sero giggles.

Rolling his eyes, Eijirou lets go of Sero, ‘cause he doesn’t deserve a bro-hug while talking like that, but keeps Bakugo under his arm. “So why Kami?”

“Fuck.” Bakugo rolls his eyes and curses like it means nothing, and at this point it almost doesn’t. It just kinda sounds like a sigh when he says it. “Don’t let any of this shit get to your head but obviously I talk about you losers, and for some fuckin’ reason the little brat likes Sparky the most. Says he’s cool and shit.”

Mina snickers. “Does she like Pikachu, by chance?”

“Her favorite’s Skitty.” He says, arms crossing. Eijirou feels his cheeks heat up when he realizes that Bakugo isn’t moving away from him, just tucking against his side. This time, though, their closeness doesn’t seem to be because he’s uncomfortable because of anything.

More like… it’s more like he actually wants it.

Sero is the one to grin this time. “‘Cause it looks like Mina?”

“Yes! Fuckin’ whatever!” The blond throws his hands in the air. “She’s obsessed with you losers, it’s so annoying. All I hear all summer is ‘where’s Riot, where’s Sero, where’s Sparky, where’s Pinky’ and her wanting to see all the shitty pictures I have of you idiots.”

“Ah, Blasty!” Mina, who cares not about a death wish, wraps her arms around Bakugo. He palms her forehead away, then angrily scrubs his sleeve against her forehead—getting rid of the explosive sweat. She winces, then smiles again. “You have pictures of us. You love us.”

Honestly, Eijirou shouldn’t feel as surprised as he is.

Red eyes glare. “Ugly ass pictures, yeah.”

“Be nice, Blasty, we love you.”

“Funny way of showin’ it.”

“Fire! Fire,” Natori rushes closer, just a few steps, but her hand is tight around Kaminari’s sleeve, who’s grinning like an idiot. “Can he show me his quirk?”

The electric boy nudges Eijirou’s arm, smile contagious and bright. Eijirou loves his friends. “She called me her favorite hero!”

“Which is offensive, because I’m right here, you little brat.” 

Bakugo, in similar fashion (which definitely makes Eijirou think he sees Mina as a sister, too) to how he did moments before, palms Natori’s forehead as she starts to grab and shake the hem of his shirt, and scrubs twice, just to make sure.

“ Tell him to do wherever he damn wants, just don’t shock you. ”

Nodding, because she’s surely the only one there that understands whatever the fuck Bakugo just said, Natori turns back up to Kaminari. “You can show me just don’t spark me.”

“No. Shock you.”

“Just don’t shock me.”

“And don’t let anyone talk to you.”

“Keep people—” She stomps. “—away!”

Kaminari lifts a hand for her to give him an exuberant high five, grinning wide. “Can do, little miss.”

Natori’s giggle, wide and Bakugo-like, with squinting red eyes, is a bit infectious, if Eijirou has anything to say about it himself. “You can keep calling me that, Sparky.”

“You sure you can’t remember my name is Denki?”

“Yup!” She chirps, pulling him away. “I’m sure.”

She definitely takes after her big ‘don’t know why I’d want to remember any of your fuckin’ names anyway’ brother.

Bakugo waits for a moment, not speaking until Kaminari and his little sister are out of sight—yes, the redhead is surprised (impressed?) that he trusts Kaminari enough to watch her alone—and by the glance back he has towards Sero, Kaminari thinks the same.

“That little shit is lying,” He says, rolling his eyes. “She knows his name.”

“Thank you for introducing us.” Eijirou says, smile turning more genuine, turning right towards Bakugo; closing his body language off from Sero and Mina, who get the hint and chase after Kaminari. “Is there a reason you held her out to me like Simba?”

“You needed to be first.” Bakugo says this quickly—almost like he didn’t mean to admit it. Eijirou suddenly remembers Kamino, Deku knowing Bakugo would only trust Eijirou to save him. “Don’t let it go to your head, Shitty Hair.”

Honestly, the rest of the meeting goes smoothly.

Eijirou finds out that Bakugo’s grandma likes him but also wants him to call her Madam Koen, in French fashion, which makes him feel a little too much like Aoyama for his liking but it’s manly, so whatever! Natori adores Mina and will tell them about Bakugo without being prompted, but once prompted, tells them off for trying to find stuff out.

It’s honestly really funny.

Ms. Midoriya and Natori know each other really well and just like Bakugo, calls her ‘auntie’ but also calls Deku her brother, which doesn’t even make Bakugo yell—just loudly scoff. Todoroki is too busy dealing with his three siblings (everyone collectively ignores Dabi) and mom to constantly shadow him, but Uraraka keeps trying to insert herself.

Which makes Eijirou block her so politely he pretends not to even notice.

At one point, Sero even playfully tapes off a small corner of the room.

Bakugo translates for his grandma unless it comes to Aizawa, then the two oldies just sign at each other, and Eijirou also watches him pretend not to know French so he doesn’t have to talk to the Aoyama’s—which was beyond funny, given Natori was currently babbling about what Sero guessed was a pastry.

Though he’s not quite sure what, Eijirou feels like he’s learned a lot from Bakugo over the past few hours.

Yeah, he learned more about his mom and dad (terrible people, whom he wishes get the karma they deserve) and that put him on edge, but his moms helped him—they have resources and the adult world at their fingertips—and Midoriya’s knowledge to help him.

He also met someone really important to Bakugo, who blows a raspberry at anyone in their class who tries to talk to her before Kaminari gets between them going “Beep, beep, too close!” and he learned how to introduce himself in Italian (salve, bunogiorno e piacere, mi chiamo Kirishima!) and that Bakugo likes to lean on him.

“You’re gonna be a good dad one day, Blasty.” Eijirou compliments, watching him swing Natori around, her hands wrapped around his wrists (he doesn’t couch her with his fingertips, and that feels important too). “And a good hero. But one after the other.”

“Eh?” Bakugo’s head whips up, cheeks turning red. “The hell you sayin’?”

He laughs, leaning happily against the wall. “Nothing, just, I can totally see you being a dad. Definitely a girl dad. Just look at you!”

“Ain’t fuckin’ nobody gonna have kids with me Shitty Hair, kill that spark in your eye and stomp it into the ground.”

Shrugging, because it’s definitely not manly to be like but Blasty, I’d have your kids , Eijirou lets it go.

“Alright, settle down, I’m not repeating myself twice.” Aizawa’s voice floods through the air, exhausted after seeing so many people. The redhead’s impressed that he didn’t immediately crawl into a sleeping bag and take a nap, or at least a jelly pouch break, though there’s no proof of the latter.

Though, Present Mic does look like he’s holding him up a little bit—they are standing quite close.

“If you’re one of the families or close friends who signed up to spend the night, you may stay, if you aren’t say your goodbyes in under five minutes, and leave. Anyone under sixteen needs to have a guardian release form for me, or whoever is watching their kid.”

Bakugo crouches down to talk to Natori, and the movement allows him to see Kaminari bouncing foot to foot, clearly wanting to spend time with the ‘Baku-gal’.

“Secondly, I’m going to address the problem of one of our recently expelled students, Minoru Mineta. I was not allowed to expel a student for two years due to me expelling an entire class the year before your own students started. This year, however, has started rocky and Mineta continually harassed female and queer students. He’s not allowed on campus.”

All the girls of 3-A shout their excitement, a few parents look uneasy, but Bakugo’s grin is sharp and deadly.

“Totally fuckin’ worth it.” He says, red eyes turning up to Kirishima. “Sign off on being Natori’s guardian so Sleepizawa doesn’t.”

Floundering for a moment, completely not ready for the responsibility or the lack of warning, Eijirou sputters, which gives both Mina and Kaminari time to latch on to either one of his arms and plead for him to agree, clearly knowing begging Bakugo to change to another one of his adult friends won’t go well.

“C’mon, Kiri! She’s adorable. Think of a movie night with her!”

“Dude, she has so much intel on Blasty, don’t you wanna know?”

“We can totally see if your moms think you’re ready for it, they will!”

“Tori,” Sero says—the absolute traitor, knowing that red, watery eyes are one of his weaknesses—fist bumping when she holds her little hand up. Bakugo smirks, proud, probably the one who taught her that. “Don’t you want Riot to keep you for a while?”

Natori squeals and plasters herself against Eijirou’s left leg, blinking up at him with wide, red eyes, “Yes! ”

“Not fair!” Eijirou bemoans, shaking his head at them all. “I’m gonna say yes, just stop guilt tripping me! If she’s staying and we’re hanging out that means we’re having a slumbie party!”

“We’re not fuckin’ twelve!”

“Yay! Dibs on Sparky!”

He loves the Bakugo’s.

Chapter Text

Natori Bakugo is amazing.

Eijirou spent the whole of the movie night squished between Bakugo and her, who was clinging to Kaminari’s side and though they had to stay to PG-13 or below for the horror movies, the ones that would have him crawling into his moms’ bed at the end of the life made her cheer.

Even Mina was more scared than her at some point.

At one point, Eijirou leans close into Bakugo and asks him, “Why isn’t she scared?” And the answer of I showed her how to stand up to everything isn’t something he’s prepared for, but it definitely makes sense. It makes him think about what Bakugo’s kids are going to be like.

He really is going to be a good dad.

They say goodbye, all the group disappointed in Natori leaving, but this time instead of going home with Nonna Bakugo, she leaves with Inko Midoriya, who kisses Blasty and Deku on the head the same way, though they’re all desperate to ask, the green haired boy shakes his head when he turns around, and none of them are eager to disobey him and tip Bakugo off to their scheming.

That doesn’t mean it’s hard to ignore curiosity.

After daydreaming about what it would be like to successfully pin Bakugo to a wall after fighting him all day, getting his assed kicked and getting pinned down himself, all his energy for the day culminates when they go back to his dorm room and sit down, playing video games with sore hands and bright eyes.

Eijirou turns to Bakugo, eyebrows wiggling, grinning wide.

“Hey, Blasty, want to go out to town tonight?”

“Why?” Red eyes roll before turning towards him, Bakugo leaning back against his bed. Studying isn’t going the way as planned, but after Mina pep-talked him, Eijirou is far more confident in what I love you means. “What are you idiots doing now?”

“Not as a group, Katsuki,” He grins wide and leans into the blonde. “As a date .”

Calling someone by their given name definitely is a way to show closeness, right?

Eijirou watches as Bakugo immediately grows flustered and opens his mouth as if to yell, only to clamp his mouth closed, jaw ticking, and sitting up straighter. “Don’t fucking joke about that!” His hand tightens on his controller and for a second he thinks he’s going to throw it. “I’m sick of it!”

“I’m not joking, I promise!” He raises his hands defensively, to at least establish a truce, leaning into his desk chair more. “I wouldn’t joke about that. I might joke about going on a date, but not about asking for one. That’s not manly at all. That could give someone a complex—I swear I’m not.”

His mom would kill him if he did.

That’s just so not cool.

Bakugo scowls, letting go of his controller to angrily cross his arms, legs tensed over the edge of his bed. “I don’t fucking believe you. You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

“But I’m not even joking around!” Eijirou protests. “You gotta believe me!”

Mina didn’t prepare him for this! 

She didn’t prepare him at all!

“Well I don’t, Shitty Hair!” Bakugo throws his hands up before grabbing him by the front of the shirt, lips raised to sneer threateningly. “So what now?” It’s like he’s almost asking to be hit. But Eijirou isn’t thinking about hitting him; he’s thinking about kissing him.

“I will prove to you how much I want you.” Eijirou says. 

Because if he doesn’t talk, he’s going to do something stupid with his mouth. 

“If you’ll just let me. I’ll get all dressed up, I’ll knock on your door right on time and walk you calmly all the way there, I won’t call you ‘bro’ or ‘dude’ all night long, I’ll pay for dinner, and when we get back, I’ll kiss you stupid against your door to say goodbye. Hell, I’ll even get permission from whoever you think is in charge of your social virtue, if that’s what you want. Let me whoo you. Let me treat you gently.”

Bakugo’s face is just about as red as his eyes and out of everything, he sputters out, “You don’t—you don’t fuckin’ need to be gentle with me.”

“What if I want to be?” The redhead pushes close to him, arms on either side of the bed next to Bakugo’s hips, chair rolling easily. “What if I want to be so gentle with you that it’ll confuse you, that you’ll have no choice but to fall in love with me?” The way that I’m in love with you . “And when I kiss you, I’ll do it slow and-”

“Oh my fuckin’ god! ” Bakugo yells, literally kicking him away. “You can take me on a stupid date but like hell I’d let you kiss me! Those stupid teeth would probably tear me apart!”

Eijirou’s grin doubles, and his fist-pumps the air. “Hell yeah!” He stands, and goes over to his closet, immediately looking towards his suits. “And for the record, I could make you love it, when these teeth are tearing you apart!”

“You asshole! I’m leaving!” The explosive boy shouts, storming towards the door. He’s more flustered than what he can handle, and to Eijirou, that’s delicious. “And put on something you can skate in, idiot, I’m not getting food on a first date like every-fuckin’-one else! That’s damn cheesy!”

Whatever gets him and Katsuki Bakugo on a date, Eijirou is not going to complain about.

Just like he said he would, Eijirou knocks on the door right on time—Bakugo texted shortly after, an annoyed sounding ‘7. itsg if ur late.’—and it swings open before his fist can even leave the wood, and his jaw immediately drops.

Bakugo looks so… good .

And that’s not rare, don’t get him wrong!

He just looks so handsome so effortlessly, in that messy universe and his daily clothes, and especially in uniform, that Eijirou didn’t really put much thought into him dressing up because how could it get better and yet here he is, genuinely having put in effort, looking amazing.

“I want to bite you.” Eijirou announces, and then immediately winces. “Sorry! Just—you look so hot, um, good! And I just, yeah, you look really good. Um, anyway, I uh—skating, right? Right, uh-”

“Shut up.” Bakugo says, but it has far less bite to it. His cheeks are pink, and he’s not meeting Eijirou’s eye. “You look good too, or whatever.”

Eijirou grins so wide, his jaw twinges with pain, and his hands immediately reach forward to grab onto Bakugo’s wrist, where he noticed that he’s fine being grabbed and pulled, and casually touched. It’s where Natori grabs him too, where Midoriya gets his attention, and even Kaminari can poke at.

It’s a safe spot, a spot where seemingly everyone has access to.

“Thanks,” He says. “And um, if you change your mind about kissing me later-”

“I won’t.” Bakugo says, not missing a beat.

Obviously Eijirou leaves it at that.

When Eijirou agreed to go skating—or rather, didn’t protest to the demand—he failed to tell Bakugo that he didn’t exactly know how to skate, and even though he watched multiple tutorials while he was changing, even clipping his hair back with trusty Crimson Riot clips instead of gelling it up, he’s not very confident that he can.

After paying for their skates and the hour, they sit across from each other on provided benches.

Bakugo immediately begins lacing his skates up, breath turning to fog whenever a little puff escapes him this close to the ice, expertly tightening here and there, he concentrates in a way that tells Eijirou he could probably do this in his sleep.

Meanwhile, Eijirou stares down at his pair helplessly, cold feet willingly inside his fuzzy socks.

“Tell me you’ve done this before, Shitty Hair.”

“I’ve done this before?” He replies hesitantly.

The blonde groans, voice snapping, “Why the hell did you agree!”

“Because we can still have fun and I want to! I watched tutorials.”

“Whatever!” Bakugo just about yells back. “C’mon! I’ll teach you.”

“Huh?” Eijirou asks, and then squeaks as the explosive boy reaches over and grabs his right ankle and the corresponding skate, immediately shoving it onto his foot and lacing it up almost tight enough to cut off his circulation, but that feels more secure than anything he could do himself. He pulls the second skate on himself, but lets Bakugo lace it as he slaps his hands away. “Thanks.”

“Shuddup and get on the ice.”

“Okay, Blasty.” He says, ignoring how much he, again, wants to kiss him. The second he’s on the ice, however, that’s the last thing on his mind compared to his own survival. “Fuck, fuck .” He hisses out, hardening all over, despite that making it harder to stay upright. “Holy riot!”

“Hang on, idiot!” Bakugo shouts from in front of him, skates cutting across the ice as he flips around, hands coming up to Eijirou’s shoulders, holding him straight up. He’s never been aware of how much shorter, smaller the other boy is. 

Holy shit . Could he even hold him up on top of ice?

He panics and flails around.

“ Shitty H —I got you,” And he does. Eijirou almost feels weightless as his hands slip under his arms, pulling him a bit in the air. He can finally relax, drop the hardening, hands coming out to grip onto Bakugo’s shoulders. “Calm?”

Eijirou only trusts himself to nod.

“Okay, listen to me.” Bakugo hisses. “Plant your feet with your toes pointed together, ‘cause that way, you won’t slide anywhere. That’s the same way you’ll stop, if you want to, when you’re movin’. Stand up straight, you know how to center your gravity. Like when you want to punch, but not move your feet. Do that .”

And he can. 

He does .

“Holy shit!” The redhead celebrates. “I’m doing it!”

“Now move.” He instructs, Eijirou would panic, if the other boy didn’t let him keep gripping his shoulders. “Push one foot up and out, blade straight to the ground, and then the next. Like you’re swimming. Even if you fall, I won’t let you get hurt.”

Because he knows that even Bakugo couldn’t catch him if he went down, he’s too heavy and there’s too much ice, but just that one promise—because it is a promise—reassures him. It’s terrible, the way that he trusts him so terribly.

He could tell Eijirou anything, and he’d listen.

The night goes smoothly, even if Eijirou only half learns how to skate and grips onto Bakugo for support this whole time, or holds on tight to the wall as he watches the blond skate around; he’s perfect, in the way her moves. It really proves that he needs to be good at everything he does.

But something about the way he turns, and twists, and glides across something so delicately makes something flutter in Eijirou’s gut. He’s just about fully fell in love with the likes of the brash and abrasive Katsuki Bakugo, but he loves the quiet, precise side of him too. 

The version of him that cracks no extra ice moving on top of it and rather one, smooth line.

“Want to leave?” Bakugo asks him, it’s only fifty-two minutes into their hour allowance, but all it takes is one look at him, and he agrees. They slip out of the place, Kirishima’s hand around his wrist but Bakugo pulling him. “We’ll grab something on the way back. I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

“Okay.” Eijirou says, then, “Do you not ever want to be kissed? ‘Cause that’s okay! Tsuyu is ace too!”

“Ace?” The blond’s nose wrinkles but then be backtracks, no longer caring. “It’s just not a good idea.”

He stops short only to promptly be pulled by the grip he has on Bakugo’s grip to take more stumbling steps, floundering as he’s finding his words. “But why is it not a good idea? I just—woah, I don’t want to pressure you, like I say, it’s fine if you just don’t want to, I just want to understand why . Even if that answer is just ‘I’m not interested’.”

“I didn’t fuckin’—I didn’t say that!” He snaps. “It’s just not a good idea!”

Eijirou stops and examines how far he should push Bakugo right now, and comes up with the answer of not this far and immediately lets it go. “Okay,” He nods, letting himself get pulled into a five minute ramen shop. “It’s not a good idea.”

They spend the next week going on casual dates and punching each other until they can’t remember which is exactly which, and he does ask once about the bad idea part of their forming relationship, because it’s not a good idea.

And though Eijirou will get to the bottom of that, he’ll do it quietly.

Bakugo won’t even have to know.

Chapter Text

Eijirou thinks that Bakugo is asleep. 

He’s finally peacefully resting, that permanent crease between his brows gone, entire face and body relaxed. His hands are held against his stomach, and Eijirou thinks for a moment that it’s so he doesn’t explode anything accidentally. His fingers rake through the blond strands.

Bakugo always smells a bit like burnt caramel.

He likes that.

And for the first time, Eijirou twists his fingers around Bakugo’s hair, smiling softly, looking down at the other boy—the boy who is calm and quiet in his arms; trusting him to be vulnerable, and asleep—and just whispers out “I love you.” to him.

What he doesn’t expect is for Bakugo’s mouth to quirk up, eyelashes fluttering, not open, but enough, a tell that he’s awake, and for him to mumble out, “Love y’too…”

He decides to freak out about it in the morning.

Eijirou does freak out in the morning.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, which of course makes Bakugo mad in his sleep, given the blond was sleeping peacefully and undisturbed on his chest. If only he was picking up how absolutely terribly it was pounding. Eijirou said that he loved him.

“Oh no…!”

Bakugo said it back .

His face heats up as he thinks about it.

What does that mean to Bakugo, exactly? He said it romantically but what if the explosive boy only said it platonically? But the redhead has never even heard him say any of that platonically, even to Mina. And he loves Mina! He heard Natori whisper it to him before she went to sleep but didn’t hear what he whispered back.

What if he’s not even comfortable telling his family that?

What does Eijirou even do then?

Okay, the plan goes like this: until Eijirou can talk to his confidants about his (Mina, Kaminari, Sero) he’s going to keep his mouth shut around Bakugo and avoid him as unsuspiciously as he possibly can, disregarding the current mission he’s on to protect said blond.

That sounds like a good plan.

“I dunno what you’re fuckin’ thinkin’ about,” Bakugo grumbles out, hand tightening in his shirt. Okay, so maybe he can hear how much it’s pounding. Maybe he woke up the boy he wanted to avoid. How smart . “But shut the fuck up .”

“H-how long have you, um, been awake for?” He stammers.

This is embarrassing!

“Does it matter?” He groans, moving away from Ejirou’s chest and face-planting into the pillow. “There’s not fuckin’ reason to wake up like this. Sleep is supposed to be relaxing , god, Shitty Hair. What’s the point of calming me down if you’ll-”

“Sorry, Blasty.” The redhead easily defuses. “Did you get good sleep?”

Avoiding can mean multiple things…

“Whatever.” Bakugo grumples.

He leaves it at that.

“That’s not manly, bro.” Is all Kaminari has to say about the subject.

Eijirou groans and puts his face in his hands, “I know!” He took a coward’s way out, and now he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. “I fucked up. What if he remembers and he’s just not saying anything ‘cause he’s pissed?”

“When has Blasty ever been quiet when mad?” Mina asks, joining the conversation.

“True.” He says, rubbing at his right eye. “What do I do?”

Sero rolls his eyes. “Act normal, dude. You’re doing yourself no favors by being weird.”

I told him I love him , Eijirou thinks, but then he backtracks with, but everyone already knows that I do. And maybe, even if he himself was blind to it, Bakugou wasn’t. Honestly, if he asks about it and the other boy just rolls his eyes and goes yeah dumbass, what’s new? the only person he could blame would be himself.

Training with Bakugo is like free-falling.

Well—it’s like jumping off a cliff. You never know what’s going to happen, if you’re going to grip the side of the cliff on the way down, catch yourself, or hit the water, get impaled on the rock, or maybe he’ll catch you, or maybe you’ll drown.

But Eijirou is still falling.

It’s exhilarating and it’s anxious, and he thinks, while looking at Bakugo, that nobody could compare. He’s so intense and he thinks the world of himself, and he hates himself, and he’s going to be the best hero that the world has ever seen.

God, when it’s about Bakugo, Eijirou feels untameable.

They end up panting on the ground, dirt covered, training suits ripped up from his hardened hands or exploded. It’s fun. He’s one of the only people, alongside Tetsutetsu and Uraraka, who will agree to go at each other until everything fades into action instead of reality.

“I love doing this with you.” He pants out. “You’re just—god, you’re a challenge.”

Bakugou snorts, and Eijirou can imagine him rolling his eyes. “Shut up, idiot.”

The redhead sits up, muscles all over straining. “Wanna race to the showers?”

A blast to his face and the sight of feet in the air is his answer, and with a hardened knee pushing off the ground, he takes off after Bakugou, who has to land on the ground moments later, momentum stalled as his arms twinge in pain and exertion.

Yeah, he’s gonna win.

Fully clean pink water dripping down him, Bakugo long gone to his room by now, flipping him off as he leaves—probably considering it a win in some sort of weird showering competition—Eijirou just finishes wrapping a towel around himself when his phone rings.

He fumbles towards it once he realizes it’s his mama’s ringtone, and answers it messily, the sound of wet fingers pressing against the screen making him wince. “Mama?”

“Get somewhere nobody can hear you.” She says. “Your mom left a file for me to read to you once I got home, about that boy you like? Apparently it’s a pretty sensitive topic, and she wrote for me to tell you to sit down, so make sure you’re doing that, too.”

“Oh god…” Eijirou mumbles, grabbing all his clothes in one hand, tucking them under his arm as he heads to his dorm. “Give me one minute.” He closes his door and locks it for once, sitting down in his desk chair, wondering what Bakugo could have done now. “Alright, lay it on me.”

Mama hesitates for just a moment before leading with “I know that you’re worried about things being bad at home for him, and I know that, I just need you to promise not to do anything rash with the news. Trust that me and your mom will handle it.”

He pauses, sharp teeth gritting together, before nodding. “O-kay. I can, um, I can do that.”

“I’m gonna call Ashido and tell her to keep an eye out on you, too, mister. I know how you get.”

Eijirou deflates, and all the plans of going behind her back to help go out the window. “Okay.”

“You’re ready? I don’t want you to-”

“Mama, please just-”

“Ei, things are a fucking nightmare in that kid’s home.” She blurts. His heart drops, but he stays quiet. Shit . “She got any court documents about that couple that she could, and it’s… they lost custody of their youngest, the girl we saw bouncing around, because her mother used her quirk on her during July two years ago, and since it’s flammable, when she tried to help her big brother make dinner, her skin caught fire.”

Tears are pouring down his cheeks in a shocked fashion, and emotions clog her throat; he knows that there’s worse details, if she’s this upset. Normally, she can compartmentalize. She can get through things with a smile. Something is wrong, something is worse than that.

“Natori’s quirk, fireproof secretion, was activated at that moment, so it sealed the reaction under her skin, which is why it didn’t heal right. She was only four.” 

Which means Bakugo was fifteen. 

It must have been one of the reasons that he didn’t talk to them, god. 

“Katsuki was a witness to it, and testified in court to get Natori under shared custody of Koen Bakugo, paternal grandmother, and Inko Midoriya, a close family friend, who also has shared custody of Katsuki during summer, to supervise.”

He breathes out and wipes his face, “His friend, Izuku Midoriya, he said that when he’s not around Katsuki, that sometimes he doesn’t exist in the house.” And he probably left out that he lives at his own house for a reason. “Do you think he’s at Koen’s?”

That certainly beats the alternatives.

“I don’t know, Ei, I’m sorry.” Mama sounds like she’s wiping tears off too. “There were bruises on the boy, all over him. He said it didn’t matter, that he was in the hero course, so of course he had bruises, and his parents immediately got a lawyer, but everyone knew what was going on if they couldn’t prove it. They got a medical warrant to scan him, there’s hundreds of burn scars just like Natori’s healed under his skin. He said it was his quirk, and his parents agreed. But some of it was in perfect circles, or spots that it looked like his mother’s quirk held him down. So… I don’t know what happened, but I know what I think.”

“You sound so mad.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Those people lost the right to call themselves parents the moment that they put their hands on that boy, or just sat by and watched it happen. I’m pissed, kid.” She seethes. “Every time they talk, they call him a brat, or a monster, Ei. He can’t think of himself like that. Nobody should have a child unless they want them for the right reasons.”

And meeting all of his friends’ parents has really shown him that that’s true.

“What do I do?” He chokes out.

He feels helpless.

“Be his friend.” Mama answers after a moment. “Just be his friend. We got it on this end, I promise we do. The best thing that you can do is be his friend, and treat him gently, and let him open up to you. Mom is already on the warpath.”

“Okay.” Eijirou says. “Okay. I can do that.”

Learning this, Eijirou can’t imagine going back home every day in first year, before they all moved into the dorms… having to go be a hero, learning like that, pushing himself every day, and then go home to his mom (and dad) every day and hear about being a villain, a monster.

And to get beat up like that and then go to class and everyone is hitting him there too…

God, for once Eijirou is wondering why Bakugo isn’t angrier .

Blasty Protection Squad

President Kiri

@everyone
roll call

VP Mina

Here !!

Manager Sero

here

Member Denki

Here :D)

Member Midoriya

Here!

Member Shinsou

here

President Kiri

we need to rally around Baku, like gen, we do
like b around him a lot more n be better bsfs
in his face, say we love him all the time, bsfs

Member Denki

What happened ://
He’s not okay, is he :[

President Kiri

no, he’s not
my moms found out that his home life is really bad
i can’t talk too much about it rn

VP Mina

Oh honey, are you crying ?

President Kiri

yeah
things r really bad
worse than we thought

Manager Sero

damn

President Kiri

and deku?
we’re gonna talk about all the things ur keeping secret

Member Midoriya

Okay

Chapter Text

Katsuki likes watching people because they don’t meet his glare.

Kirishima doesn’t seem to care about this one fucking bit.

Even when Katsuki tries to kill him and he’s being protective over Natori by just a glance, Kirishima doesn’t seem to care at all and it drives him right up the damn wall. All fucking morning Shitty Hair was all over him and Natori asking questions and not caring how either of them answered.

And he kept saying that stupid fucking thing—

You’ll be a great dad someday, Blasty .

Like shut the fuck up, goddamnit! Katsuki doesn’t want to be a dad! He didn’t even want to be a big brother with his shitty parents but look at him now, putting up with all of it anyway. Like holy shit, leave him alone for one second. Nobody will fucking stand him enough to be a co-parent, and a hero can’t do that shit alone. Especially not as number one.

He doesn’t know why Kirishima insists on filling him with false hope.

Katsuki wishes he’d just insult him like everyone else and move on.

When the little gnat finally left, a pouting Kaminari and laughing Sero at the doorway, Kirishima turned to him and grinned, shark teeth catching in the light, saying “Hey, Blasty, want to go out to town tonight?” in that stupid hopeful way of his.

He always fucking makes him feel bad for saying no, despite that being a god damn God given right, so the blond only hesitated for just a moment before saying yes.

The first time that Katsuki made food for his mom after developing his quirk, the nitrosweat made her cough and wheeze over the kitchen sink, gagging; poisoned. His dad scooped him up, five years old, and told him it’s okay to forget, but that he always has to wash his hands.

“I can teach you how to make all sorts of food that won’t hurt Mommy.”

But all that Katsuki heard is you’re poison, you’re poison, you’re poison .

On the anniversary of when it was released in the school’s newspaper (a fucking mistake in his book, why the fuck his twelve year old self was okay with it, he will never know), his mother smugly sends him an article he wrote in his last year of middle school alongside a text that reads, ‘still lonely, brat?’

He ignores the text, but rereads the article.

The designated spoken poem was about the stages of grief for students who had lost somebody, and what they think depression actually is, for the ones that just think they might go through hard times sometimes in life (a third was available if any student became uncomfortable). 

Bakugou K. came up to me after class and asked what to do if he fit into both categories, being angry from grief and depressed all the time. I told him to pick one emotion and focus on it. 

This was the poem he turned in a week later, refusing to perform it in front of the class:

Not a BIG Deal

                                     Being alone is not a big deal. 

                                    This is something that my mother agrees on. She taps me on the back of the head and says , “ [Redacted] , if you wanted to [blank] cry about something, I’ll give you something to cry about.” like the way I’ve heard other mothers say, “I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!” when their children are misbehaving.

                                     I’m not quite sure my mother - who, in her teenage years was the class representative of her graduating and middle class, the president of her volleyball team, and prom queen - understands what it means to be lonely. Mom is surrounded by people and those people understand her, they actually know what she’s thinking; my dad, for example. They’re in love and that’s gross, but it created me and I’m awesome, so that evens out.

                                     My dad understands loneliness, for such an old guy who’s had so much time to make them, he doesn’t have any friends and only has my mom to talk to. I’d be unhappy if the only person I talked to was Mom, too. He took me to the doctor because [redacted due to privacy] and when we walked out, he told me I can do whatever I want, as long as at the end of the day, I’m still taking over life.

                                     Apparently, it’s okay to be alone, as long as you’re not lonely.

                                     I’m not lonely.

                                     Even if I was, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Being alone in the way that everyone is around you and worshiping you, or obsessed with you so creepily like [redacted classmate name] but still feeling like nobody is there at all would make someone lonely, if they weren’t as strong as me.

                                     Those people, the lame ones who aren’t strong, they’d be the kinds of people nobody wants to be around - everyone loves to be around me - and nobody wants to be around them for a reason that’s really obvious but that reason, at the same time, is hard for anyone to articulate. 

                                     But that reason has been around since those people were children, little children, the age some people get their quirks and others get useless. That reason marks those people as the Unwanted Ones, and they will carry that with them throughout their whole lives - and their parents, and friends, and the extras will all know it, too.

His skin boils, and though he isn’t nearly done with the damned thing, Katsuki slams his laptop shut. “Fuck this.” He hisses, and quickly rises to his feet. Fuck his Mom. Fuck that teacher. Fuck Deku. Fuck all those shitty old friends he had.

He hates them all.

The blond is on his feet and running before he can help himself, little, pathetic explosions sounding off from his palms as he goes. Whatever. He doesn’t need to be in control right now anyway. Why the fuck would he when everything is pissing him off.

It was a fucking mistake, going to that ice rink.

He got Kirishima all to himself in a way that nobody in their group, not even Mina or Sparky has gone on a date with him, and it makes him feel selfish. He wants all of the last firsts that Kirishima has; he wants to give all of his firsts to Kirishima, too.

But he can’t. It’s a fucking bad idea. 

He’s poisonous.

Katsuki was right even back then: something is wrong with him, and it’s super obvious. It’s always been obvious. It’s not just one goddamned thing—it’s all of him, every single bit. But he’s selfish, and he takes what he wants. He’d rather lead that shitty haired freak on until he gets sick of him, than push him away (and he’d rather die than admit how much he needs him, too).

He should have never said he loves him back. He should have pretended to be asleep.

Fuck, he fucked this all up.

He wants Kirishima to kiss him, goddammit.

Deku always fucking looks scared when Bakugo manages to do fuck all towards Shitty Hair when he does anything other than blow the guy up. It’s fucking infuriating, but anything that makes Deku shit himself or shake a little seems like a good side effect.

So after he’s done letting the idiot pull him into his side from where he walked next to his breakfast table, red hair poking against his shoulder, and watches Deku stare on, wide-eyed, he parts with a shove on Kirishima’s head and stomps over to his table.

At the table is Deku, Half ‘n Half, Iida, Pink Cheeks and the fucking weird haired purple guy as well as Yaomomo, when she scoots between Earjack and Sparky’s table to talk, and all of them look like they’re ready to square up as he approaches.

Katsuki smirks, hoping he looks like every ounce of the asshole he is. “Deku.” He says.

“Hey, Kacchan.” Deku responds, smiling back.

He grabs him by the shoulder and starts to drag him away. “C’mon.”

“You should ask before you pull on people, Bakugo.” Shinsou snaps. “If you stay so angry and demanding, you’ll get health problems.”

“Eh? This comin’ from the fuckin’ guy that has to depuff his fuckin’ eyebags before getting weighed at the doctor? Piss off .”

“Bye guys, I’m okay!” The green haired moron immediately tries to defuse. “I have my phone, okay? I’ll let you know if you need to come!” By the time they’re in the hallway, Deku is walking right next to him and brushing his clothes flat, looking up at him with a smile. “What’s up.”

Looking down at his palms, coming to a stop, Katsuki sighs. Kirishima doesn’t care at all about flirting with him, about getting in his space; he is the only person in this entire world that he’s met who’s compatible with his quirk, and he doesn’t give up on anyone.

“Fuck.” He sighs again. “I’m in love.”

“Kirishima?” Deku guesses, and it pisses him off.

But, he just looks up, and nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you… do you wanna talk about it?”

“I… fuck you,” Katsuki snaps. “Yes.”

Deku gives Katsuki’s hands a considering look—having just been told the exact form of poison that Katsuki knows himself to be. Sweat, blood, saliva. Everything: poison—and then asks “Do you want me to test it?” like the idiot he is.

“Stupid.” He calls him, but there’s little heat behind it. Deku knows that already. “I don’t need someone to fucking test it, I already fucking know .”

“Awh, but Kacchan,” Deku pouts. “That was you at like, what? 5, 6? And your mom is like, allergic to your quirk anyway, it could have just been her. You know?”

“I’m made out of nitroglycerin, Deku.” Katsuki snaps. “Everyone is ‘allergic’ to that.”

“I mean… you could let him choose, like if he’s willing to risk it rather than not get close to you at all.” He suggests, and Katsuki’s glare doubles. “I’m just saying! I mean, if you even watch Kirishima for a day , you’ll see how much physical touch is important to him. He hangs off everyone and wants everyone to hang off him.”

“He’s been fine with just a few touches or leaning in close.” The explosive boy says defensively.

“Kacchan-”

“He’s fine!”

And Katsuki doesn’t say this because he actually knows if Kirishima is okay or not—he hasn’t fucking asked, and doesn’t plan to—but because he knows that he’s either always too much, which is typical, or not enough for someone.

Most teenage boys don’t want a relationship with someone that won’t let them even kiss them, and he knows being intimate is important to Kirishima, and so is openness, and honesty, and peace, and none of those things are something that Katsuki can give to him.

“I have to stop being his friend.” He presses on.

Deku glares now. “Kacchan, if you stop being Kirishima’s friend because you’re in love with him, I swear to All Might that I will never forgive you. You can’t just go around and decide this shit for yourself, anymore. We’re seventeen, we’re third years, not eleven years old anymore. Consent is more than just for in the bedroom, and you need to understand that.”

“Right, because I’ll just go up to fuckin’ Shitty Hair and get permission to stop being his friend.” The blond sneers.

“Talk to him, Kacchan.” Deku says. “That’s the least he deserves.”

“Shut up.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Fuck you!”

Chapter Text

Kirishima is many things.

Annoying is one of them. But striking is another. It pisses Katsuki off, even thinking that, because it’s exactly what Kirishima wants to hear, and since fucking when did Katsuki start giving people what they want? He doesn’t even do what they like and that shit’s on purpose.

It just doesn’t make any fucking sense.

Katsuki is fucking amazing, he knows that, he’s powerful and shit, and Kirishima is just some dumbass redhead who gets stars in his stupid eyes every time he talks about helping people, or hardens one of his hands just to show off, and there’s no fucking reason that he should be able to stand so close to Katsuki without flinching.

Yet he fucking does and its annoying. Like he said. Everything Katsuki touches dies. He’s fucking poison, alright? He’ll fucking admit that, he knows his (very few) flaws. And being someone other people can stand at all is not one of his strengths, that’s for sure.

But Kirishima stands Katsuki.

Katsuki is a self-admitted acquired taste, and nobody worthy has acquired him yet.

Maybe it’s because Kirishima bothers to look at Katsuki like an equal instead of how all those fucking extras look at him, like he’s terrifying and amazing and below them all at the same time, which pisses him off so much, how dare they look at him like that.

Even Deku thinks he’s better than him.

Maybe it’s because of his gusto attitude, or maybe it’s the way he’s not afraid to get close. Maybe it’s even that he’ll stand yelling on top of the world that he can do something, not so the world hears, but so he makes sure he does. Like it’s only important that he believes in himself, nobody self.

Katsuki doesn’t fucking understand that.

Which makes Kirishima only more understandably fucking unbearable, the fact that Katsuki can’t get a hold on him, the fact that his motives aren’t something that he can makes out makes him actually and genuinely insufferable. It’s like he’s walking on eggshells and relaxing at the same time.

But that’s—he just can’t figure it out!

What does Kirishima want from him?

All the other fucking extras were easy to figure out—they wanted a protector or to spar with him, to latch their shitty selves onto him so that way they have it easy, Deku wanted to fucking study him and his freak friends just want to change him into something nice, IcyHot wanted someone to compare to his dad, and all Kirishima’s friends are tolerating Katsuki for his sake and because being Katsuki Bakugo’s friend is cool.

Yet for all other things, Kirishima just fucking grabs what he wants, he immediately proclaims what’s going on, how manly it is, that he’s going to do it, have it, wants it, and then he’ll get it, because he’s Kirishima and he’s either friendly enough or powerful enough to achieve that.

He doesn’t understand.

Frustrated, Katsuki turns over in bed and lets explosions reign down on his bedsheets. Everything from his laundry detergent to his shampoo is all neutralizing, so he won’t burn the fucking place down, as much as he sometimes wants to. He feels like crying.

But crying is for pussies, so hell fucking no.

Kirishima is never fucking satisfied and it pisses Katsuki all the way the fuck off.

He never fucking is done, always chomping at some bit or pulling on Katsuki’s wrist like it being inches away from his explosive hands don’t fucking matter, like nothing that Katsuki does matters to Kirishima. It’s stupid. It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous, and Kirishima thinks just because he can harden, that doesn’t mean shit because he’s invulnerable.

He’s too fucking much for Katsuki.

“I’m not asexual.” Katsuki tells Kirishima, who flounders a bit with the xbox remote in his hands while he turns to glance over at him, and nods. He doesn't say that he had to look up what the idiot meant, or even thought about asking Deku. He presses random buttons, staring back. “Kissing me just isn’t a fuckin’ good idea, so I’m not gonna let you do it. ‘Kay?”

“Okay.” The redhead responds, like it’s that easy. “Not arguing,” Even Katsuki knows that he wouldn’t about this. “Just curious about why it’s a bad idea?”

“‘Cause it is.” A pause. “Dumbass.”

It’s like he doesn’t know what he’s made out of.

“Thanks.” Kirishima gives up uncharacteristically quick, which makes red eyes narrow at him, but the conversation ends just as quickly when the idiot turns back to the screen, his death playing out, and gapes. “How are you winning? You’re not even looking!”

Katsuki shrugs, and presses ‘play again’.

He knows that this fucking spikey haired idiot is going to test why it’s a bad idea, going to see what exactly the explosive boy will let him do. And the worst part is that Katsuki isn’t going to stop him. He’s going to enjoy it, seeing what they can do, like he’s not crossing a line just thinking about it; like there’s some future here.

But there’s not.

When they spar the next time, it’s after a fight with Uraraka leads both Katsuki and her having lunch detention for the next two fucking days together—despite him not having let off a single fucking explosion—and  because of that, they go right to the middle of the field and end up absolutely drenched in sweat, in the bottom of a seven foot crater his howitzer created, weakly wrestling with each other.

He knows he’s getting to the point that any more powerful blasts could fracture his arms, and at this rate, Recovery Girl might be petty enough to just set them for a few days to ‘figure out how to heal them’ just to teach him a lesson, and he’ll be damned if he actually cares about that.

After first year, he got a little too used to broken arms.

Fuck Deku.

Kirishima can barely harden any more against his attacks, and despite dripping in sweat, Katsuki isn’t letting off very powerful explosions, either. They’re just barely rolling, Kirishima pinning him down, both of his hands against the others chest, setting off the equivalent of useless cherry bombs.

Gritting his teeth, he bucks his hips up to throw the other boy off of him, only for the stupid red head to fully harden all of his fucking body - the weight of him is suddenly too much, and Katsuki’s shaking arms give up, causing Shitty Hair to collapse victoriously on top of him.

“Fuck.” He wheezes, all the air leaving his body. All the idiot does is laugh, warm breath hitting his neck, and sinks further into him. “G’off.”

“Awh, Kats,” Kirishima replies breathlessly. Katsuki stiffens, and goes red. “But I’m so comfy.”

“G’off!” He repeats, furious this time. The fucking moron knows exactly what he’s doing and it pisses him off! Nothing he can do back is comparable, and it makes him feel half as worthy and entirely vulnerable. He wants it, but he knows if he actually got it, it’d feel disgusting. “Die!”

Laughing again, the redhead finally sits up away from explosive hands, “Damn, dude, chill .”

“You piss me off.” He says in reply.

“Eh, in all the good ways.” Kirishima waves off.

“There are no good ways, dumbass!”

“Okay, dude,” He says easily—again, a too-easy truce. Katsuki wants to piss him off just so he’ll argue, but also doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Something is good between them. “Wanna go get some dinner? I’m so hungry, man!”

Katsuki scoffs. “You’re fucking paying.”

If he’s eating before he’s sleeping, he has to get some satisfaction out of it. They end up in the food court closest to UA, right next to the shitty mall strip, stuffing their faces with spicy yaki-udon and soba that Kirishima texts a picture to Deku, who’ll fucking show Icy Hot, like that’s his business.

“He’s in the area.” Shitty Hair explains.

“Why the hell do ya know that?” Kirishima looks sheepish, shark teeth pulling at his bottom lip awkwardly. “Idiot.” He groans. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing! I mean—not nothing, like? Just, I dunno. I could tell that you two were getting closer, or whatever, so I asked him to, like, be my real friend more?” Explaining this, he moves his hands around, nervous, almost too nervous, and Katsuki just stares. “I thought you’d be mad, so I didn’t say anything, but-”

“Shut up!” The blond snaps. “I’m not fuckin’ mad, you just need to tell me shit more. I don’t like surprises! You know that!”

“I know.” Kirishima pouts. “I just didn’t want to stress you out.”

“The hell you mean we’re getting closer?”

“I can tell you’re spending time alone!” He chirps, and Katsuki scowls. How the hell can he tell that? He’s not open about it, at fucking all, because why would he be, and Deku’s not stupid enough to be either. “Like, just the way you guys are talking and acting, and his friend group is calming down too, though trust me when I say that I think they should have calmed down years ago. Or not gotten mad at all.”

It’s like all of Katsuki’s defenses go up.

That makes it sound like he didn’t do anything fucked up at all.

He bares his teeth, his voice a growl. “They got fuckin’ mad because I told Deku to jump off the roof.” And that’s probably the cruelest reminder of what is probably his worst action in life thus far, but Kirishima doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, you did.” The redhead nods, like it’s that simple. “But you were also, like, a really hurt twelve year old who-”

“Who the fuck said I was hurt?” The explosive boy seethes out. “I wasn’t fuckin’ hurt .” His heart pounds in his chest. Who told him, who told him . He’ll kill Deku. “I was a piece of shit who was better than that quirkless freak. That’s fuckin’ all.”

Fuck, he’s stressed out.

Running his sweaty hands off on his pants, he goes to open his mouth to keep yelling, given Shitty Hair hasn’t found anything worthwhile to say, when the familiar and annoying silhouette of Deku rounds the corner, with his normal, impeccable, shitty timing.

The nerd comes up to Kirishima with a huffing Round Face behind him, and Katsuki looks angrily down into his bowl. “Hey, Kiri, can you fix this metal binding?” He holds out a spiral notebook, well, not really a spiral notebook, a regular notebook reinforced with fucking metal. 

Of course this is something that fucking nerd would do.

Fuck. He’s fucking annoying.

“I tried but I couldn’t get it.” Pink cheeks explains, as if that means Eijirou won’t be able to do it either. As fucking if.

“Yeah,” Bakugo drawls. It sounds like a growl. “But Kirishima is strong.”

“Making it weightless only bent it more.” Deku continues like he didn’t say anything at all, and that pisses him off. “Tetsutetsu sat on it.”

He grunts as he stands up, nearly knocking Kirishima’s soba over. “I’m fuckin’ leaving. Later, Shitty Hair.” It’s as much as a goodbye he’ll give someone he actually fully likes, but at least Katsuki pauses, sends a red-eyed glare at his childhood whatever. “Deku.”

Katsuki ignores Floaty, because he hates her, and heads back to the dorms. And if he leaves his dorm room door unlocked in hopes that Kirishima comes by later, that’s nobody’s business—somehow, he tries to forget about it himself, dragging his English textbook to his lap and flipping to the Latin section.

Right now, he has to think about something he doesn’t already know.

Like how Kirishima won’t come, or Uraraka will never forgive him.

In a turn of events that makes Katsuki just about want to—and almost does—bang his head into the wall, Denki fucking Kaminari knocks on his door shouting something about Kacchan, you won’t believe it! when he pushes just a little too hard and finds out it’s unlocked.

He and Sero stand there, grinning, and he just about blows the door up.

“What!” The blond yells, hoping to scare them off.

But, of fucking course, Sparky just keeps grinning like and idiot and asks “Hoping for company?” as he invites himself into the room, making Katsuki scramble to sit up, at least wanting to seem threatening, as Kaminari sits on his desk chair and grabs the remote Kirishima usually uses, tossing the one next to it to Sero. “COD, or Fortnite.”

“I don’t want to fuckin’ play either of those things.”

“Live a little, Bakubro.” Sero says, coming to sit criss-cross on the floor, leaning forward to turn on his xbox. “I vote for COD, but zombies.”

“I hate the zombies!” Dunce Face argues. “Let’s do civil war!”

“Dude, you literally suck.”

And this is how Katsuki gets stuck watching Elbows beat Sparky in every single first person shooting game, but loosing in every car driving game, including Mario Kart—which they actually sucker him into joining since Tori fucking snitched that he liked it, and he’s a little too tired to actually argue with them.

He actually scoff-laughs a little towards the end, hiding it by snuffing his face into his shoulder. But this is good, actually. He kind of… likes it.

“Didn’t mean to make you think I don’t care about you, Blasty.” Sparky says out in a rush, shoulders his door open. It’s two in the morning and well past Katsuki’s bed time and they’re probably all going to get yelled at by Iida tomorrow, and he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “We’re still friends, yeah?”

Katsuki considers the other blond for a second before sighing, shrugging, and says, “Whatever.”

Maybe the grin that Kaminari gives is worth it even if he isn’t sure of what he just agreed to or not, maybe he wants to pretend to have real friends before it all falls apart again, maybe he missed the biggest fucking idiot he knows and can’t explain that.

So yeah, whatever.

Chapter Text

One of the reasons that Katsuki hates Deku so much is because even when he’s scared of someone he can move against them—he just ‘can’t help it’. The idiot’s feet move without his brain or the rest of his body being able to do so much as catch up to the movement. 

All Might thought it was important. 

Katsuki thinks it’s stupid.

Mostly because when the blond is scared of his mom (every other fear has been one-off) his palms only ever give a little pathetic pop against his skin; she’s trained him so much that just by saying don’t you dare use your quirk on me, Katsuki! he suddenly can’t stand up or do anything . 

He freezes. 

It’s pathetic.

When he stands in front of his mom, shaking, he does nothing to stop her from hurting him, or locking him in that stupid fucking metal closet, or even try to use his quirk, but when Deku is in front of Bakugo, shaking, scared, he’ll do everything. Like a real damn hero.

And then he has the audacity to suck up to both of his parents, to sing out Auntie Mitsuki! Uncle Masaru and get them to smile at him in a way they have never even smiled at Bakugou: like he’s worth something. 

Deku has the gull to get them to love him, a perfect boy, a pretty boy, a boy better than him, and so Katsuki knows his parents could never love him, because they’ve seen the best version of him, and it’s not someone he could turn into, even if he tried his hardest, even if he put his all into it.

So, Katsuki Bakugo hates Izuku Midoriya.

It’s as simple as that.

Absolutely not caring about how Katsuki bites out “Don’t you fucking dare!” as Kirishima reaches for him, the stupid redhead grabs his hand and turns it over, placing half the clementine in the palm of his hand, like it won’t poison him if he takes it back, like a touch like that means nothing to someone with a quirk like his.

Then, his fingers trace against Katsuki’s sweaty palm, and tug at his fingers as he pulls away, smearing nitrosweat on his thumbs, not seeming aware of just how, fucking, what is the word? Intimate , the goddamn gesture is; nails digging into sensitive skin.

He keeps ranting even after pulling away, about the science of citrus and what muscles it’s good for, but all Katsuki feels is the touch on his hand, replaying the moment their skin made contact, fingers seeming to sear his skin, feeling buzzed for absolutely no reason.

He touched me , Katsuki’s brain is on overload, and that’s the only thing he can think. He touched me .

When he looks up, the fucking idiot is putting the same hand that just touched his hand all over his own half of the clementine, already chewing on a piece, either unaware or doesn’t care about what his nitrosweat could do to him—and it freaks Katsuki out.

Immediately, he’s standing out of his chair with a yell, and he’s not even sure that it’s even words.

Katsuki is just so fucking scared—no! Dammit! He doesn’t get scared! —that his quirk doesn’t even trigger, just fucking like when he’s with his fucking mom—and he’s grabbing onto Kirishima’s jaw and face with both hands, having leaped across the table—

It’s so quick that Kirishima doesn’t even have time to harden before his hands are on him, he feels the muscles flex under him—shark teeth snapping shut—the opposite of what Katsuki needs him to fucking do right now—and when he can finally get the words out, it’s all wrong—

But Kirishima is all shocked and still grinning, and thinks this is some sort of game. 

“Spit it the fuck out, Shitty Hair, you’ll fucking—I’ll fucking poison— what the hell —stop fucking chewing- ” 

Then Kirishima sees the tears pathetically building in the poisonous’ boy’s eyes, and freezes, mouth parting. “What…?”

Katsuki pushes his right thumb through rows of sharp teeth, slicing it but forcing Kirishima to open his jaw. His head swims at the sight of his own blood on the other’s teeth. “Spit it out, idiot!”

Slowly, like he’s worried it’ll upset him too, the redhead grabs the napkin that Sero is holding out to him and spits the clementine slice into it, and he suddenly realizes how much of a scene—not even an angry scene—he caused, and how he ended up half-sitting on Kirishima’s lap, half-standing with one foot on the ground besides his chair.

He scrambles away, and runs his hands down his pants, smearing blood and sweat. “Can you fuckin’ breathe?”

“Can I—? I can breathe, Bakugo.” Kirishima replies gently. Like he’s scared. Like he’s fragile . “Can you?”

Katsuki’s trembling, he realizes. His whole body is shaking, and he’s crying like a fucking idiot. Oh fuck, he is an idiot. He takes one step back, sees the way Mina is looking at him—smile dropping for once, the same way she looked at Miss Midnight’s funeral and when Sero’s elbow was snapped apart—and bolts.

He runs so fast that his ankle throbs around a harsh turn and by the time he’s by an open door, he’s gone. There’s no chance for any of them to catch him, none at all. All he does is run and realize that the half-fake facade of his anger and harsh lines is cracking and if that goes, there’ll be nothing left besides his real anger.

And that’s not something he’s been willing to take out on anyone other than Deku in a long fucking time.

For some reason, he ends up at the Midoriya complex.

He bangs on the door rough, annoyed he’d do something this pathetic and forget his key (that he hasn’t touched since first year), but then Auntie Inko is opening it.

She has an oven mitt on one hand and an apron on, the smell of bread and strawberries washes over him, and she feels like every ounce of the mother he wishes that he had growing up. He collapses into her when she steps towards him and cries into her shoulder, and she holds him tight.

“Oh, my sweet darling,” She says. “It’ll be okay. You can cry.”

Katsuki is called strong all of the time. 

Nobody has ever called him sweet before.

It stuns him. Benevolence is a foreign concept to him, and that thought makes him cry all the harder. Empathy has always been hard for him, he can never guess how someone is feeling, let alone feel it for him. Being nice is hard. Having true compassion is hard.

It makes him cry harder.

He knows that all of those things go into the making of a good hero, and he’s compensated by learning . 

By understanding what is hard for people, and what hurts. He changes the way that he acts for those who are hurt, children, and his friends, and he does it because he wants to—because he doesn’t actually like scaring people and he feels weird, and warm, and amazing when they laugh in his direction.

That’s how he makes up for being so broken.

The fact that he can’t touch them like everyone else can doesn’t matter, the fact that he can’t seem to smile without baring his teeth doesn’t matter, the fact that the two out of the three people he cares about most in this world have both been genuinely scared of him before, and the third wears a scar across her face that he has nightmares about creating even when he knows he didn’t.

“It’s okay,” Auntie Inko repeats, patting down the points of his hair. “It’s okay.”

His phone buzzing right next to his head is what wakes him up, he stirs groggily and then when he notices he’s not in the dorm, he panics for a second, sitting up fast enough that his head spins. But he’s not home, his mom isn’t waiting on the other side of the door and his dad isn’t in the corner ignoring everything.

Auntie Inko must have floated him into Deku’s bed, or at least, half-floated him (he’s not really sure what her limits are, but it’s nothing like Pink Cheeks is capable of). And plugged in his phone, by the looks of it. He sighs, equally as upset as he is grateful for the help.

After all the shit he’s done to her son, he doesn’t deserve any of this.

Katsuki doesn’t know why this is where he ended up, and he doesn’t know why he feels so… scared… about it still. If Kirishima was dead, Deku or Mina would have found him already, probably because he knows Katsuki would probably kill everyone else and then himself, but still.

He’ll cook his auntie a good meal to repay her, and then make sure to never show his face again.

deku

Kiri told me what happened, Kacchan
I’m sorry /gen

At first Katsuki thinks he’d rather jump off the roof, hands tied behind his back, before responding but after checking the other amount of messages from Kirishima, the idiots, even one from Aizawa, probably for missing all his classes after lunch, and finally, his dad, probably about the upcoming break, his opinion changes.

Deku is safe to yell at.

And he’d forgive Katsuki for it too, the bastard.

Kacchan !!

shut up

doesn’t fucking matter

deku

(⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

Kacchan !!

SHUT UP

deku

Mom told me you’re home, can I come home

Kacchan !!

its your house idiot
dumb izuku

deku

Shoto and Uraraka would be with me…
Maybe Tsu
(⁠;⁠;⁠;⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠)

Kacchan !!

im making katsudon and dumplings
and soba
and frog legs

deku

Iida can’t come because of his family dinner!

Kacchan !!
don’t care

deku

I can invite your friends !!! :D

Kacchan !!

dont fucking have those

deku

I can invite Kiri and his friends !!

Kacchan !!

dont give a shit what you do

deku

>:O) !!
Then I’m gonna have everyone spend the night!!
You included

Kacchan !!

fuck off
we’re not 12

deku

Jokes on you we didn’t have sleepovers when we were 12!
You were too busy PUNCHING me

Kacchan !!

SHIT
FUCK OFF
FUCK YOU

deku

>:’3

Nitroglycerin is man-made, it doesn’t naturally exist.

When it hit the world market, it was used as the first practical explosive and it is stronger than gunpowder, which made it better to explode and shatter than even the strongest TNT. It was placed in different products and factories, and it was unstable.

Many lives were lost because of it.

Nitroglycerin is a contact explosive.

That means that any physical shock or friction or spark causes it to set off—to explode. To kill. When it’s manufactured for the public, it has to be diluted and purified, to mix it with compatible things so it has to be ignited to be set off, so it’s less dangerous.

After years of it being used to kill and tear apart, a physician somewhere discovered that this dangerous, murderous substance, could be used as medicine. To help . They used it to alleviate chest pain, to ease the damage on people’s hearts.

His mother’s mother took nitroglycerin pills when she was pregnant, and the chemical seared itself into her DNA—stored under the ‘quirk’ genes in her body, because where else would it go—which made her slime and his father’s TNT pairing lethal.

Katsuki’s quirk is just as insatiable as nitroglycerin.

But it affects his personality, the way he thinks and acts.

Nitroglycerin will lower blood pressure, will sedate someone to the point that their heart doesn’t pound enough, and they sleep. It could kill, too. So his body has to consistently pump out high levels of adrenaline and stress hormones, heat and anger, just for him to stay awake.

The times that Katsuki has been calm, he always feels like something is wrong. Like he’s just ticking down, waiting to explode.

Which, as someone who values control, is fucking annoying.

When Kirishima texts him again, the stupid nerd probably having told him he’s responding—him, not the group chat with those morons—to see if he’s okay, his reply of like i’d fucking want you to care is intentional; he’ll blow this friendship up if that’s what it takes to protect Shitty Hair, and he won’t even regret it.

Especially not if Deku shows him what a real friend is first. Especially if Deku is the one to replace him.

Everyone knows that Katsuki is ruthless.

Chapter Text

Katsuki startles when he’s walking back from the bathroom to Deku’s stupid room, because Auntie Inko rounds the corner—having to force himself to step away, lest he throw his phone or attack her. He would never forgive himself for that, and it’d probably be the one thing the nerd wouldn’t forgive him for either.

“Fuck!” He yelps, hands raising as if to block a blow, and it scares her, causing the pan of bread in her hands to start floating. They calm down just as quickly, and he catches the pan instead of letting it drop, handing it back to her with a grimace. “Sorry, Auntie.”

The explosive boy normally doesn’t let his guard down as much, can track people easily around a house or space, but because of her quirk, she’s always walked quietly.

Deku, thankfully, didn’t inherit this trait.

The quirkless asshole would use that against him, and he knows it.

“You’re perfectly fine, honey,” She smiles back apologetically. “I’ll try to announce myself next time. Would you like some hot bread? Zu just told me he’s on his way, apparently all your friends are quite excited to have a sleepover! I’ve got lots to prepare! He also said you’re making dinner…?”

He nods, watching her carefully. 

Katsuki had decided that without even asking, and he knows his mom would be pissed, so he doesn’t really know how Auntie Inko will react, given Deku can’t cook to save his life (though he could burn down the whole apartment building without trying).

Auntie Inko just keeps smiling. “Would you like some hot bread?”

It’s a good thing Deku doesn’t have her smile—he has his dad’s smile, the upturn of his mouth that makes it look like he should have dimples but he doesn’t, so he looks weird—and it’s only a good thing because it makes him less irritated when looking at her, given they look alike in all other ways.

She’s also where he got his optimism from.

How annoying.

“I’ll take some.” Katsuki replies finally, not wanting to refuse her. The strawberries can’t hurt either. “Gotta pick some shi—stuff up from the store. ‘Zuku wants katsudon.”

“Actually dear,” She says. 

Dread, for a moment, hits Katsuki in the gut. Then the blond brushes it off—just because he hasn’t been around her often (though a lot more than in middle school) doesn’t mean she’ll suddenly start acting like the hag, especially not with sentences that start something like dear. 

“How about you give me the list and I go grab everything you need? I’m having trouble picking where everyone would sleep, and setting up for the games and movies Zu wanted space for.”

He nods. “Works for me.”

Anything other than I think it’s best you leave works for him.

Because he’s a dick like that, he gives him and Kirishima the spare room (why he wasn’t in there, he doesn’t know, probably something about recognizing his surroundings, something else about it being closest to the door) and makes Deku, IcyHot and Floaty share the bunk beds in his room.

The frog bitch can join them if she shows up, he doesn’t care.

Because he might as well shove all of his problems into one corner, Mina and Kaminari will share the couch since they both snore and drool. Sero gets the hammock the Midoriya’s have hanging up next to the window, he knows it might not be the most comfortable option, but for some reason he doesn’t think Tape Face would trade a bed for it, either.

Even if his girlfriend is in it.

Disgusting. 

Katsuki’s not supposed to care at all.

The buzzer rings out alerting him of someone opening the gate outside—he vaguely remembers jumping over it—because Katsuki knows that means there’s only at minimum forty seconds it could take someone to get to the door, which doesn’t include if any of those freaks use their quirks.

Goddamnit, if they still lived in an regular apartment instead of this townhouse looking thing, this wouldn’t be a problem, he’d have plenty of fucking time!

But, also, no warning.

He hurriedly finishes putting up the fairy lights he knows that Deku would put out anyway to ‘set the mood’ and plans on blaming Inko if anyone asks, and then he throws himself into the kitchen to start heating up a pot of water like he wasn’t doing anything noteworthy at all, leaning against the counter like he could care less what’s about to happen.

This is going to fucking suck, he thinks.

There’s reasons—damn good reasons!—why he has never agreed to a sleepover before, why the times he’s spent the night at this apartment has been when he was kicked out or when his mom got too sick of him, or when his dad was out on a business trip for over a week during summer and he didn’t feel like dealing with the bitch.

The court order is really more of a suggestion.

“Kacchan!” Deku’s voice rings out, excited enough to immediately grate on Katsuki’s nerves.

The green-haired boy skids into the kitchen, shoes still on, and it makes the explosive boy nearly throw a wooden spoon at him. “Take care of your shit!” He scolds, waving the utensil like a weapon. “Idiot!”

“Sorry, Kacchan…” He mumbles past his bit lip, grinning. Stupid nerd. The bastard says “I’m just so happy that you agreed to having a sleepover, I mean, I never thought you would, especially not when Shoto or anyone else was here, you know! Not that there’s anything wrong with that! You know you’re always welcomed here.” while kicking his shoes off.

Katsuki glares. “Shut up. Where’s the extras?”

“Ms. Midoriya decorated the entire home very nicely, Izuku.” Floaty says brightly, albeit she cautiously enters the room. The blond stands up straighter, smirking a bit. That’s right, she should be cautious of him (and damn right he decorated nicely!). “Everyone’s sleeping arrangements are also clearly set out.”

Deku only glances at Katsuki once like he blames him before nodding. “Awesome! I’ll make sure she knows you think that! Have you heard from Tsu yet?”

“Her cousin is going to watch the boys.” Half ‘n Half says monotonously from the doorway. “She’ll be here.”

“Ah, I’m so happy!” Deku announces, which makes him scowl and turn back to the pot, as if watching the water boil doesn’t make it go by slower. “Are we all in my room?” They must nod, because he doesn’t hear anything. “Cool! I’m sure your friends will like some alone time too, Kacchan.”

“Whatever.”

“You should be polite, Bakugou.” Pink Cheeks scolds. “This is his home.”

Katsuki turns to her, not glaring his hardest but not looking neutral either. “Are you a Midoriya?”

“No.” Her cheeks turn red but she shakes her head, crossing her arms. “But that doesn’t matter-”

“Do you have a key?” The Bakugou boy presses on.

Her nose wrinkles. “No?”

“I do.” He snaps. “Now fuck off.”

“A-alright guys!” Deku laughs nervously, and Katsuki can feel him step away, probably not wanting to explain. “How about we go set up the xbox and switch while everyone is waiting, I know Kaminari wanted to play a few Mario Kart tournament! He’s bringing a rubber cover for his remote, too!”

“My spot is with my cold side next to the heater.” He hears Todoroki note. “Your mother is quite thoughtful.”

“Haha, yeah!” Deku responds, and the blond almost snaps the wood in his hands. 

He knows, Katsuki thinks. 

The worst part is that he doesn’t really understand how the idiot pieced it together so easily, and doesn’t want to think about how this could embarrass him in the future. Instead he tries to drown out the noise and focus on preparing anything else that he can. If all the idiots will be here, gaming and having fun, the best he can do is avoid them.

And they’ll avoid him when he’s wielding knives too, if they know what’s good for them.

Sparky is the first to arrive, sauntering into the kitchen with his leather jacket already off and stealing a piece of cooked pork that had left the pan all but a few seconds ago, which at least lets Katsuki enjoy his huffing breath from his mouth, open and closed, in pain of the heat. “Hot, h-ot!”

“You fuckin’ deserve that.” He scowls. “Idiot.”

The moron just grins at him. “Good food, Blasty! Where’d you learn to cook?”

“Nonna.” He says easily. “Who else would I learn a good skill from?”

Pikachu leaves it at that but stays quietly in the kitchen with Katsuki, just scrolling on/charging his phone, occasionally watching how he does something—it’s comfortable, almost. It’s exactly why he started tolerating Kirishima’s presence, too: him knowing when to shut up (a skill he didn’t know he had)—until Asui shows up and challenges him to play Dress to Impress with her.

It’s not… it’s not the worst thing he’s been through.

But that’s not really a fair comparison anyway.

Auntie Inko insists on finishing up the last of the cooking and plating all the food which makes the explosive boy’s control freak—he can admit that, okay!—tendencies rage against his skull.

It makes Katsuki want to snap about how he knows how they all like their food and size of portions and everything that she doesn’t, and it makes his fingers twitch over the change of plans, but the little voice in the back of his head that reminds him that he cooked to give thanks to her hospitality stops him.

“Go, go sit,” She waves him off. “Have fun with your friends!”

“Not my friends.” He mumbles, but begrudgingly goes into the living room when Inko sends him one of those motherly scolding looks; he’s not one to waste rare experiences like making that look, fond and unfamiliar, switch into real, normal disappointment in him.

Kaminari immediately pats the seat next to him on the couch, he’s alone save for the frog freak by his feet, and grins at the other blond over his rubber covered remote. “C’mon Blasty, come cheer me on!” He calls, and he doesn’t miss the annoying fucking look that Half n’ Half and Floaty send each other that basically says him? Cheer someone on? Yeah right.

Exhausted, Katsuki just goes over and flops next to him, eyes blurrily tracing the screen. It’s Mario Kart, and he only knows that Deku is Bowser Jr., which annoys the hell out of him. “You fuckin’ winning?”

“Of course!” Replying, Sparky shoots an annoying smirk his way, but he ignores it in favor of watching Bowser twist and turn on the screen, dodging second place’s green shell in tandem with the clicks coming from the electric boy’s remote. “You doubt me?”

“Shitty Hair kicks your ass at this.” He explains, meaning, how am I supposed to know nobody else could?

“That’s ‘cause he’s had a Wii since before he even had hand-eye coordination, it’s in his blood! You know this!”

Katsuki glares. “So did the pink freak, and she’s shit at the game.”

“Take that!” Kaminari cheers. “Fuck you, Deku! Who’s your daddy now?”

A banging on the door sounds out, and he nearly jumps. “I heard that!” Mina’s voice rings out. “Asshole! I’ll show you who’s shit.”

“Not if I don’t fuckin’ let you in, Pink Alien!” He snaps, all while standing to open the door, heart throbbing in his neck nervously, knowing that with her comes Flex Tape, yes, but also Kirishima. It’s undeniably that he’s out there and going to smile all kind, but his eyes will be full of pity.

Because by now he’s figured it out: Katsuki Bakugou is poison.

He’ll stop wanting to kiss him, or go on dates.

And Katsuki will be alone again.

Which is ridiculous because he’s already said that he doesn’t care how many dates they go on and that he won’t kiss Shitty Hair even if his life depended on it (mostly because sometimes when he looks at him, it feels like his life does depend on it).

But something that Katsuki Bakugou is not is a pussy, so he still stomps over to the door and throws it open with his usual scowl, expecting as Alien Eyes immediately pushes past him to wrestle the remote away from Kaminari, and how Sero calmly passes him.

He even expects how they stand there awkwardly for a second full of strained eye contact before the redhead laughs and rubs the back of his head. “Hey, Blasty,” Kirishima murmurs. “Do we need to talk about, you know, what happened?”

“I don’t need shit from you.” Is how he responds, despite wanting to say, please.

Kirishima just smiles that shark-toothed grin. “Okay! Wanna show me around?”

“Ask Deku, it’s his fuckin’ house.” The explosive boy grunts, making a split-second decision to grab two extra zebra and red print drawstrings from over Kirishima’s shoulder and turning sharply towards the spare bedroom, clearly making it stated that this is theirs, for them, and he catches Deku smiling at him right as he swings the door open. Kirishima scampers after him. “S’ours.”

He tries not to think about how the boy next to him is what he’ll be thinking about all fucking summer long when he’s here.

“Thanks, Kats!” Kirishima says, and Katsuki’s cheeks lights up red.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

That’s not a fucking tired accident now. It’s a fucking nickname meant to fluster him and it fucking worked. Asshole!

Continuing innocently even though he smiles smugly, the redhead asks, “Is everyone else already here?”

“Yeah.” He nods, disliking the shake in his voice. “The last of the extras showed up with you. How the hell did you get all of your stupid schedules to align and Aizawa to agree to this shit? Or your parents? It’s the last fucking thing he’d do at the end of the semester.”

“You’re one to talk, having skipped two curfews after last night.” Kirishima teases.

Well, it’s supposed to be a tease, it’s supposed to hold no weight, but instead Katsuki can feel the displeasure stemming from it. The worry. The care. And it suffocates him.

They said they weren’t going to talk about it.

He said they weren’t going to talk about it.

But… Kirishima has always done uncomfortable things for him. He always has put himself out there, smile first, and thrown himself into the path of hard things, a hit, rejection, anything, for Katsuki, and never once has the explosive boy returned the favor. Not even after all the dates they've been on, or the amount of times he’s let Kirishima pin him to a wall.

Just, he doesn’t want to think about what it means that the redhead didn’t choke on his sweat. That he didn’t have to cough out his blood, that he didn’t flinch at his hands; that he is his best friend, that he’s already more and they both know a label wouldn’t change anything. 

That to Eijirou Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou isn’t poison.

Which means there’s no reason not to let him close. Which means there’s no reason not to let him kiss him.

He means, he hasn’t really even thought all the way out what the other repercussions of kissing Kirishima would be because he was too focused on that one thing. The single actual obstacle. He wants to be kissed, to be allowed to kiss back. But he can’t imagine Kirishima seeing him as more than a friend, as wanting something other than this thing to flirt with and take out on fun weekends.

Who the fuck would be so masochistic to actually want to be his boyfriend? Fuck buddy? Sure. Whatever. Shitty taste but again, whatever. Company? Already questionable. Boyfriend? Even Shitty Hair isn’t that fucking stupid.

Or suicidal.

And he’s so—inexperienced.

Katsuki doesn’t know fuck all about any of this, he doesn’t know how to kiss or be a good date without glaring or tell someone what he wants in a way that doesn’t include every swear word know to man and more frowns than smiles, or how to hold someone’s hand or comfort them. This isn’t… these things aren’t what his hands were made for.

He isn’t made to hold.

He’s made to win.

“Those curfews don’t count.” Katsuki ends up grunting out. He realizes somewhere in the back of his head that his hands are shaking. “Did your dumbass see Recovery Girl?”

Kirishima’s nose wrinkles. “Why would I do that?”

“You ate nitroglycerin.” He points out; irritated.

Doesn’t Shitty Hair understand yet? Everything has been spelled out for him, written plainly in the sand. Through all the stepped-over lines. He can’t be confused. Katsuki can’t be the one to say it out loud, what runs in his veins, why they shouldn’t even be friends. 

It feels so much more fair to have him just… find out.

“And nothing bad happened.” The redhead says, and the words come out almost like a challenge—like he wants Katsuki to argue with him for once. As if he should be rolling his eyes. “Besides your panic attack.”

He doesn’t know why he takes it like this, but the explosive boy hears this and it feels like a slap in the face. Like Kirishima is attacking him. He’s the one person who has always praised him for being strong and now he’s stating a weakness of his, a raw vulnerability.

If you know anything about him, you know that Katsuki hates vulnerability.

It’s one of the biggest reasons he hates Deku.

So he snarls, “I didn’t have a panic attack.”

For once—and maybe Kirishima has been building up to this for a while—and maybe Katsuki gave him permission somewhere between the first time he didn’t shove the bastard’s off him and the last time he didn’t protest wanting to kiss him—Kirishima doesn’t back down about this, about the worst parts of him.

Or the questions about his parents.

Questions that Katsuki doesn’t want to think about, let alone answer.

“Yes.” Shitty Hair says, slow and stern. “You did.”

He bares his teeth. “Why the fuck would I have—”

“I don’t know why, I just know that you did.” Kirishima says, stepping forward. 

His face is unreadable. 

There’s no lines on his forehead and the normal smile he has splayed over his lips is absent, but he’s staring somewhere around Katsuki’s neck. He looks solid, sturdy. Normally this sturdiness makes him feel safe, like he could take on the world with Kirishima at his side. But right now, Kirishima looks like this sort of person you should be scared to wrap your fingers around.

Because Katsuki is sure that Kirishima wouldn’t look any different if his mouth was wrapped around his throat, crushing and marking with his sharp teeth.

“Your sweat won’t hurt me unless you detonate it—even when you detonate it.” The hero’s voice drops low, and he takes a few steps forward. It’s threatening. It makes Katsuki blush. He steps back and trips behind him onto the empty desk. “Your body won’t hurt mine.”

But all Katsuki hears is you won’t hurt me, not me, never me.

The blond is not scared but he’s shaking, he thinks that he might be on the verge of another fucking panic attack he’ll deny having. And he still attacks Kirishima with all he’s got, tackling him to the bed and pinning him under his knees, sweaty palms pressing roughly down onto hardened shoulders.

And then he kisses him.

Katsuki is terrible at this but after the blinding anxiety stops leading him and he can actually think enough to move his mouth and after Shitty Hair’s hand fists in his own spikes, he thinks it might be okay. A noise escapes him that’s so embarrassing that it makes him pull away, blushing bright pink.

“B-Bakugou?” Kirishima stammers out. “You…?”

“If any of those idiots barge in I’m fighting you.” He snaps out ruthlessly, and he’d do it too. “You don’t feel sick?”

“What?” The redhead asks, confused, face the color of his hair. “No, I-”

Katsuki kisses him again.

Hell, he doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, he just wants Kirishima in the way he’s always wanted him. Shitty Hair has promised none of this is a joke, that he’s never done this with his friends. Which to Katsuki has always made it sound like they weren’t just friends—well, after the brief period of time it sounded like they weren’t friends at fucking all.

For once he lets someone else guide him into doing something without protest. Kirishima’s hand tugs on his hair and angles his head to the side, deepening the kiss in a way that has Katsuki making that noise again, but this time when he goes to pull away, the redhead’s hands grab onto his hips and keeps him in place.

“Fuck.” He hisses sharply.

Nobody told him kissing felt good, he just, he doesn’t really know what he thought. That it was performative? That it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good, either? He doesn’t know.

But he really didn’t think it felt like this.

His fucking inexperience really shows when Kirishima pulls away for just a second, tilting the other way but then stops completely when hearing how heavy Katsuki is breathing, and it’s shitty and humiliating, because he laughs. 

“Shut up!” He shouts, but his voice cracking makes Shitty Hair laugh louder. “Dickhead!”

“You're the one who kissed me, Kats,” He teases, stars in his eyes. “I really thought you were gonna punch me though. Did you know you don’t have to be so aggressive when you want to kiss me, right?”

“Shut up.” Katsuki repeats, willing his heart to go back to normal before he has to go out there with all the extras. “Your throat doesn’t hurt, idiot?”

“Dude, I’m fine.” The redhead promises, and when the inconsiderate dick squeezes his hips between calloused, large hands, he squeaks. He’s mortified, while the absolute fuckface looks like he has stars in his red eyes. “Holy shit, that was so cute, bro, do that again.”

“Didn’t fuckin’ do it on purpose.” He growls, moving to get up and finding himself pinned. “Let me go!”

But then—then Kirishima’s thumbs rub in a circle over his hips and Katsuki’s legs twitch; he slaps his hand to his mouth to muffle the sound, realizing how sensitive and stupid his own fucking body is. He didn’t plan for any of this but fuck, if he doesn’t already regret it. 

Kinda. 

This feels really good. 

“Want me to keep doing that?” Kirishima purrs, eyes lidded and full of wonder. 

Lust, Katsuki corrects. For me.

“L-look around.” He tries to snap, but his shaking voice betrays him. “I shouldn’t have fucking done that, that was a terrible idea. Fuck. Shit. Fuck you, bastard, letting me do that!”

“Why would I stop you?” Shitty Hair laughs. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me for forever!”

“I’m not gonna keep kissing you in the middle of Shitty Deku’s ap—ngh!” Not only does Kirishima rub his hips again but he bucks his hips up at the same time, moving Katsuki down to capture his mouth and the noise that comes with the movement.

“Pretty boy,” Kirishima says, deep voice a low, rumbling vibration that makes goosebumps raise along his whole body. “We don’t need to be anywhere but here.”

It works on Katsuki for a minute or two, lost seconds between pressing his mouth firmly against the other’s, opening when he’s showed how to and thumbs slowly leaving bruises along his hip bones. Then he hears a cheer from the living room so loud it echoes in the hallway, and knocks out of it with a gasp.

“Stupid idiot!” He curses. “I am not letting that pink haired bitch find out my first kiss was right now. That we kissed right now. Because neither of us will fucking sleep. And none of those extras can know about us anyway.”

“Us?” Is all Kirishima replies. Great. He’s in love with a fucking idiot. “There’s an us? Boyfriends?”

“We’ve gone on thirteen dates—”

“Awh, Kats, you counted?”

“—and I just kissed you, and neither of us have questions because we’re obvious fucks. Of course there’s an us. You’re mine. You’re mine ‘till you get sick of me, ‘kay? No excuses.”

“Blasty, I won’t get sick of you.” Kirishima says this like a promise and that’s the only reason Katsuki almost believes him. “But I do have a question.”

“Fuck. What?”

“You’re okay with kissing now?”

“You’re a smart fuck, aren’t you?”

The redhead at least has the decency to look sheepish. “I just meant that before now it was a bad idea, but now… it’s not? Just like that? I’m not complaining, this is what I wanted! I just want to make sure it’s something you’re actually comfortable with.”

Katsuki states for a second, well aware he’s about to be terrible, but Kirishima already knows that he can be terrible, so really, it’s on him. 

“Open your mouth.”

Shitty Hair does.

And he spits in it.

The reason is instantly but it’s not the reaction of someone who’s being poisoned and choked by nitroglycerin. He thinks it's the reaction of someone who just got their mouth spit in and has to sputter and breath because ew, why, and then ask himself—because he turns red—if he likes it or not.

“You dyin’?” Katsuki asks, smirking as if his fists aren’t clenched in anticipation, as if half moons aren’t cutting into his palms. 

As if he wouldn't let everyone find out just to keep Kirishima safe.

“Emotionally, or?” Kirishima jokes, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Chills go up his spine when it’s placed back in his hip. “I’m good but dude, please tell me why.”

“My saliva is, I fucking thought I was, my nitroglycerin is—I thought it could poison you. My whole life I couldn’t touch people because it would poison them. It poisoned the old hag and I wasn’t allowed, God if you talk anyone this, I’ll break up with you, but I wasn’t allowed to even hold hands. ‘Cause my sweat.”

“So it wasn’t a good idea because you were protecting me?” Is all he gets out of that. Katsuki stares, unimpressed. “Who aren’t we telling?”

“Everyone but the idiots and Deku, not my parents, but I say we let them figure it out themselves. Make it a game. Idiots won’t notice for at least a week.”

“Ah, c’mon, I give Mina at most two days.”

“A bet then, asshole.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“The hell you want?”

“I don’t even know,” Kirishima replies happily, burying his face in Katsuki’s neck. “I have everything I want right now already.”

The doorknob clicks open; Katsuki’s fist is already clenched.

Sero is the one to break them apart.

Chapter Text

“Bakugou, no shouting.” Todoroki scolds.

Katsuki is pretty damn sure that through the whole fucking game of monopoly—that he didn’t even want to fucking play—Sparky and Mina have been twice as loud. He’s cursing more, but whatever, that doesn’t count, what matters is that he’s the only one getting scolded.

It’s not like Auntie Inko even cares how damn loud they get!

He bares his teeth. “Were you born with a fuckin’ stick up your ass, or did someone stupid put it there?”

“Someone stupid.” The half and half bastard replies—but he stares at him like Katsuki’s the stupid one.

This is only after Deku frowns at him, arms crossed instead of hanging off him how he was. The explosive boy would be annoyed by Shitty Deku’s help, as if he needs help picking or finishing fights, if he wasn’t tired enough to find Todoroki shutting the fuck up relieving.

Pressing warmth into him, Kirishima’s legs are on either side of Katsuki’s body and every time he leans over to roll the dice, grab money or touch the board, he presses the rest of his chest into his shoulders and the back of his neck, making his heart pound.

Alien Eyes and Sero sit by Shitty Hair on the couch, and Sparky sits by Katsuki, wiggling his eyebrows at him in random intervals that tell Katsuki he doesn’t notice the red of his ears, and thank god that Mina is too busy teasing her own boyfriend to notice, because otherwise he’d owe Kirishima God knows what; he doesn’t really feel like losing.

Well, he doesn’t give a damn about monopoly right now.

Katsuki is too focused on the heat at his sides.

It’s about ten at night and after all the week’s stress due to the second to last semester of their hero course (which Aizawa said will be harder than the last) just about everyone is exhausted. Katsuki likes this fact because it means he isn’t singled out after his freak out.

Which he’s sure that Pink Cheeks knows about because of fucking Shitty Deku, given she’s been avoiding him rather than insulting him.

But he’s exhausted .

Which means when they turn in the same direction, him plugging in his phone and he doesn’t care what she was doing, he flinches. Flinches. Because of Uraraka. Because of Floaty . In front of every damn one. She jerks away herself, more surprised by the flinch than his presence.

“Watch where you’re doing!” He growls out.

“Geeze, Bakugou, you don’t have to act like-”

“What,” Mina calls out protectively, arms crossed. “Like you’d hit him?” 

Katsuki doesn’t miss the look Shitty Hair and Sero share, because why the fuck is that important?

Impossibly, Uraraka’s cheeks actually look worse, but he’s sure that the awkwardness and uncomfortability radiating off of her is also coming off of him. Why the hell are they talking about this? It was months ago at this fucking point— years ago! She stated her position back then, and he fucking respected that.

So he shouts, “I deserved that shit, assholes! Shut up!” 

Kaminari crosses his arms. “I remember Tori telling me that you told her that no matter what someone does, even if they annoy her or hurt her, they don’t deserve to be hurt in response. That that’s what heroes and cops are for, to deal with people who hurt others. She said you pointed out the whole eye for an eye thing. So who are you lying to, her, or us?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” The explosive boy replies instantly, teeth clenched together and lips raised in a snarl. “Shut up!”

Katsuki knows he told Nat that, it’s one of the things he and Deku have both drilled into her since she could speak, or maybe even before that. No matter what someone does to you, it is not your job to hurt them to get revenge (self defense is different, defense of another is different). 

Neither one of them wanted Natori to turn out like him .

God, he couldn’t fucking stand that.

“No!” Sparky fights back immediately, squaring his shoulders and sitting up straight. “What makes you so different from everyone else, huh? Why can you be hurt for stupid mistakes you made when you were a kid, but nobody else is allowed to? You’re a person—”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Kacchan, you-”

“—and people shouldn’t be hurt for their mistakes, Blasty!”

Kirishima pulls on his shoulder. “Kats?”

“Um, guys?” Deku winces.

“Do you not think you’re a person?” Mina asks, eyes wide. 

Katsuki’s face is flaming red with anger at this point, and he doesn’t even know why. He just feels so vulnerable, like the high he’s been riding from getting with Kirishima made this low even worse. “Is that what you think, Dunce Face. That I’m not a fuckin’ person . That I’m below you?”

“C’mon Bakugo,” Sero just shakes his head, but his eyes are worried when he turns to him. Scared, maybe. “You know that’s not what Kami’s saying. If anyone here doesn’t think that you’re a person, it’s Todoroki.”

Deku’s arms flail nervously as his boyfriend straightens up. “Getting a bit off topic, r-right guys? I’m sure that, um, Kacchan didn’t mean it like that.”

Floaty, who’s been annoyingly quiet since Mina first snapped at her—annoying because she fucking caused this whole thing—looks down to Katsuki again. “How did you mean it?”

“Like you fuckin’ care!” He yells back, and all of the fake sympathy behind her eyes immediately fades out. 

“I don’t know how Deku put up with you bullying him for so long with resorting to drastic measures, I don’t know how Mrs. Midoriya forgave you for the terrible way you treated her son, and I surely don’t know how anyone can be your friend when every attempt at peace is met with this attitude, but I do know that whatever turned you into this, that thing all angry men are running from, it’s found you, you’re just like it, and I know that because you make everyone around you just as miserable as you are!”

Katsuki can hear his heartbeat, which is saying a lot for someone with hearing aids (albeit, internal ones), and he’s too shocked to do anything, even scream. For a second, it’s just like when he’s being yelled at at home again; he can’t use his quirk, he can’t fight back, he can’t even yell.

And that’s all he has sometimes, you know? The ability to yell.  

Nobody else is saying anything, either. 

He can’t see Kirishima or Sero’s faces, but Kaminari looks pissed and Mina’s face is scrunched in the I’m about to cry because that was so mean way. Todoroki is looking at Deku for his reaction, and Deku, of course, is crying. That should be Katsuki’s right, he thinks, whether or not someone cries at that. 

Because it should be him. 

Deku shouldn’t even care after what he put him through, that’s one thing Uraraka got right.

“Too far.” Asui says into the silence, shifting in her seat like she’s leaning away from the mess they are. “Ribbit.”

The blond realizes with a jolt that Shitty Nerd is crying, quiet and bubbling up, making his shoulders shake in a way he’s seen so rarely. He grew up with this blubbering, crybaby asshole, so he knows the different cries that Deku has, and he can count the number of times he’s cried like this —shocked, betrayed, and devastated—on one hand.

One time was after they brought him home from the doctor’s, certified quirkless, and Katsuki laughed at him for it for the first time. Another was the day after the sludge incident and Katsuki told him that he wished he’d die instead of being saved by someone like him (meeting All Might didn’t even matter to him because of it), another when his dad left.

Seeing it is telling, and Katsuki can’t stand it.

He’s standing up, so clumsily it knocks something on the table over, and rushes out of the room before anyone else can say anything. 

You’re just like it , Uraraka had said, but what he heard was: her . His mom. You’re just like her.

He passes Auntie Inko on the way back from the store on his way out and books it with his head down, moving like he’s about to be hit. Katsuki can’t help it, sometimes he looks at people and all he sees for a few seconds is his mom, hand raised to snap at him.

It’s worse when they turn into her, his brain convinced that this looming danger she’s presented his whole life is genuinely in front of him instead of a snapshot image that passes as soon as it comes. Because if someone is his mom, he won’t fight back against them, because he can’t fight back against her.

Fuck. Why the hell did Dunce Face have to ask such shitty questions and why the hell does everyone have to care so much about shit that doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t fucking understand! 

Uraraka slapped him. Didn’t punch him, didn’t hit him; slapped him. 

It wasn’t to fucking hurt him, it was to show that she thinks she’s better than him. And you know what? It doesn’t even matter at this point that she’s wrong because those idiots are all focusing on the wrong god damned thing! All they care about was that someone’s palm hit someone else’s cheek, like that’s high on a priority scale.

Fuck, why is it so hard for them to understand?

Katsuki ends up at the park. 

It’s this almost-hidden gem past the river only a block or two away from their street, kids seem to find it as easily as flies do honey, but he doesn’t have a single memory of an adult there when he was playing. He felt safe here, as a kid, in this land where he was the king and not even his parents could touch him.

Nobody follows him, probably and solely because he knows his way around this neighborhood like the back of his hand and for some fucking reason if Deku isn’t worried about him, every fucking one else thinks they don’t have to be either. 

Like he’s the Bakugou Expert—god, fuck that.

But they do text.

Bakusquad

Pikachu

Blasty I PROMISE that things will be fine when you’re back!!! o7

Pink Demon

We’ll give you the go-ahead when these numbskulls are taken care of!
Don’t worry, Bakubaby, Mama Mina is here to make sure they treat you respectfully !!!!!!

deku

I’m putting my foot down about you, and I know you don’t want me to /gen but I really can’t stand this anymore and it’s important to me that my best friends and boyfriend get along.
If you want them to go back to the dorms, they will /nm

Kacchan !!

fuck you

It’s about a half-hour after sitting there, scrolling through one of his favorite All Might blogs to calm down, that he gets the next text from Shitty Hair. He swings himself down off the monkey bars and lands, walking back as he reads the text, because he knows what it’ll say.

Hard Hands

come home kats

Kirishima is an idiot, a bold idiot, for this and something twists weird in Katsuki’s gut thinking of all the whys the redhead could have for thinking that the Midoriya duplex was more his hom than the house across the street, what he could have said to confirm it.

He puts his hood up once he gets on his street so his parents can’t tell it’s him if they look out the window and thinks that maybe Shitty Hair has a point. Katsuki isn’t a dumbass, he knows that Kirishima is suspicious and Deku has always been suspicious.

But he won’t do anything to actively disway them because that’s as good as admitting it.

All he can do is lie, sometimes, and hope.

Chapter Text

Eijirou actually expects it when Bakugou runs that time, because he’s sure it’s between that, trying to hurt Uraraka (which he himself feels close to) or having a panic attack in what to him is a public platform. Somewhere in the background, Mrs. Midoriya fusses out something like oh dear, I better finish the food and disappears into the kitchen, sounding very much like her son.

“That’s completely unfair and I cannot believe that you would say stuff like that after how much we’ve talked about Kacchan.” Deku says, and it surprises him enough to actually listen—though he notices Mina and Kaminari dive towards their phones, feeling his own buzz in his pocket moments later. “In his position back then, everyone would be mad.”

“He’s still mad. He’s always mad, he’s never not mad.” Uraraka snaps back. “It’s exhausting to put up with.”

Mina scoffs. “He’s not always mad, you just always piss him off.”

“That is not helping.” Todoroki says.

“I wasn’t trying to.” Mina sticks her tongue out.

Eijirou shakes his head. “You’re thinking about him all wrong. He’s loud and it can look like anger but he’s not angry anymore, I mean, he literally hasn’t attacked anyone unprovoked since our first year, since the war. He’s learned so much and he’s not a bully anymore.”

You might be though , he doesn’t say.

She goes to open her mouth but Deku gets to it first. “You know Aizawa expelled Mineta for everything and you still think that if Kacchan was bad he’d be allowed to stay? Aizawa knows everything, more than any of you, about what happened between us.”

He suddenly remembers the email, the words take a swan dive off the roof said in Bakugou’s little, twelve year old voice, some kid with long fingers and a high-pitched chuckle recording as Deku was threatened. The redhead doesn’t flinch, if anything, his resolve hardens.

Bakugou had to have learned that language from somewhere.

God, he’s so mad about all of this.

“Then why don’t you tell us because I still don’t get it.” Saying this, to Eijirou, Uraraka is breaking some huge unspoken boundary of hey, you don’t ask people to reveal their trauma just because you’re curious but when Midoriya doesn’t look offended and Kaminari doesn’t step in, he ignores it.

“We’ve been over this.” Deku says, voice wobbling. “Kacchan was an angry kid and ever since he got his quirk, other students and teachers basically encouraged him to be bad towards quirkless kids because quirkless kids are worthless in this district.” He motions around. “He was just doing what he was taught and guess what? The moment he got out of this environment, he started to change and become himself. He decided to have the morals of a hero.”

Eijirou can remember Deku’s words, Kacchan is what I think of when I think of a hero. Not All Might, not even Aizawa. Kacchan. He’s the best of us.  

That means something.

How can Uraraka not see that?

“Parents are the most important influence when it comes to morals and temper.” Is he going crazy or has she not noticed how Mitsuki Bakugou acts once these past three years? “And his parents love you so much, they adore you, so I know they didn’t teach him that.”

How can Eijirou explain that no, the Bakugou’s didn’t teach their son to hate the quirkless or Izuku, but they did teach him they were capable of loving everyone but him without revealing what he knows? Without breaking a huge disclosure boundary Bakugou, who doesn’t know what he knows about him, can give consent for him to break.

Deku seems to be in the same boat, just staring at Uraraka, clearly wanting to say something and stopping himself, hands over his mouth.

“His parents literally taught him he was better than anyone.” Sero speaks up from the corner, arms crossed, grabbing onto large elbows. “They taught him not to listen to anyone, to take anything, to challenge authority and people who suck up to him, and then when they had an unruly child, they wondered why . Midoriya was a stalking creep back then just as much he was a friend.”

“Sorry, Deku, but I would’ve punched you too.” Kaminari nods along. “Ah, but we would have been friends, though!”

Midoriya just waves him off. “No, you’re right. I overwhelmed him and thought he couldn’t do anything wrong, which annoyed him because when he did stuff wrong he wanted to correct it and get it right, and nobody showed him how to do that until Aizawa.”

They’re getting too close to talking about stuff Bakugou wouldn’t want them too for Eijirou to be comfortable.

But at the same time, they can’t let Uraraka say something like that again.

Todoroki nods along, more understanding than Eijirou thought he would be. “You idolized him and he didn’t want to be an idol, he wanted to be your friend. I understand.” And, wow, that’s probably the first time that he’s spoken about Bakugou when obviously thinking about himself where the blond wasn’t compared to his father.

“None of this sounds like a good reason, let alone an excuse.” Somehow, Uraraka isn’t getting it. It’s about here he decides she’s debating to win instead of understanding, listening to respond instead of hear. Oh, his Mama could do a number on her! “He was still a bully. He still hurt you. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”

“No, you’re not?” Deku’s nose wrinkles. “Like you said, I’m the one he hurt. I’m the only one allowed to decide what to do about that, how mad to be about that, and if he deserves forgiveness. Which he did, which is the only reason why I forgave him. There’s stuff he needed to forgive me for too, and nobody seems to care about that.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Like the fact I literally stalked him for years and wrote obsessively in notebooks about his quirk, personality, family history and body with zero c-consent and when a villain found it, he targeted, he targeted Kacchan to use his body b-because he knew how strong it was. Because of me. And then I, then I agreed with his mom that he was weak for needing to be saved by All Might because I knew that agreeing would hurt him.”

The sludge villain.

Eijirou feels his breath catch in his throat and Deku looks up at him, startled that he knows what he’s talking about. He didn’t know that’s how the villain found Bakugou after school, but he did know that Midoriya lost a full notebook that day, even though he thought that it was all due to it being exploded.

“D-does that make me a bully? Someone who, who deserves to be treated the way you’re treating Kacchan?”

Looking like she feels complicated, Uraraka shakes her head and says “No.” and because Eijirou finally feels like they’re getting somewhere, he takes out his phone to make sure that Bakugou knows it’s okay to come back when he wants, happy with the way Uraraka is looking at Deku like she’s never met him before.

There’s moments of tenseness and he glances at Denki to see him making a face in Sero’s direction, probably texting each other. Okay, everything will be okay. They’re a class that’s been through so much together and they’re all friends, they can absolutely work this out.

Especially with Deku not baking down this time.

“I understand your point.” Todoroki says. “I don’t think any less of you, Izuku. Thank you for actually discussing this, I know I have been too prideful in the past. I don’t know how good of friends I can be with Bakugou, but I am willing to try for you. He has been misjudged.”

“Don’t apologize.” Eijirou, Mina and Sero speak at the same time.

Todoroki raises his white eyebrow. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Mine was a mistake.” Asui notes. “Ribbit.”

“People shouldn’t have to apologize to a bully for thinking he’s a bully.” Uraraka snaps, glaring at the frog girl, and Eijirou feels something drop in his gut.

All around him, his friends talk all at once, Mina yelling, Deku looking like he’s about to cry again, and his heart pounds in his chest. Why doesn’t Uraraka want to understand—no, why does Uraraka want Bakugou to be the bad guy? It doesn’t make sense.

They used to be friends, didn’t they?

What happened to her open heart? She’s normally, in every other area, sweet and quirky, and smiles at everyone who needs it. She’s an amazing hero and normally such a good friend. Why is it only with Bakugou, about something he didn’t even do to her, that she won’t try?

He has never prided himself on his disposition, even when doing hero work; Aizawa, Fat Gum and Suneater, and just about everyone he’s trained under, has said he has the temperament that any good hero needs, even after that temperament has caused him to rush into battle to save others.

The redhead has always thought about Katsuki Bakugou when they’ve said this.

A good hero cares without bias, a good hero will stand in front of all—that’s what Crimson Riot always said, and it’s what Kirishima firmly believes. Caring about everyone equally took work sometimes (he thinks about watching a wife that’s finally taken enough abuse, who snapped at her husband, from his position standing in front of her abuser).

Eijirou built his entire career—his life—on this foundation that has the belief that everyone is equal in the bricks and mortar. He hopes that one day, Riot will be known as the hero name that carries on the tradition of always caring for everyone without exceptions.

Having his boyfriend cry in front of him is seriously messing with that goal.

Because Eijirou immediately glares  at Uraraka, who is staring not at him defiantly, but at Deku, who opens his mouth to protest all while big crocodile tears roll down his cheeks, but he beats them both to saying anything. “Everyone sit back down and be quiet right now .”

Nobody is used to him strong-arming them, to him demanding. 

It shocks everyone who did stand up—Uraraka, Sero, Mina—into following his command.

“Deku is the only one allowed to interrupt me or I swear to god,” Eijirou laughs darkly, feeling full of protective, possessive energy. “I will lose my shit for the first time in years , and none of you want to know what that looks like. I kept it together through Kamino, through the war. I’m not gonna keep it together if one more person hurts Bakugou.”

Uraraka opens her mouth, thinking him all bark and no bite, but he bares sharp teeth at her and his hands harden on impulse.

“No.” He snaps. “Quiet.”

She nods, face uncharacteristically drained of color.

“First of all, Deku is the only person that Bakugou ever bullied and not only has be paid reparations for that but he’s also apologized multiple times! The only reason that you haven’t seen how he’s changed is because you’re not looking . It’s not your business to be upset or angry over this. It’s Deku’s. Deku, have you ever asked them to protect you?”

Deku looks away from Todoroki, to the floor, and then up to Eijirou. He can’t tell if he’s ashamed or not. “No, I’ve… I’ve only asked them to let it go. If they said anything, I wanted to stay out of it, and make sure that Kacchan knew I was staying out of it.”

He feels like he’s in the middle of a fight when he turns to face down Uraraka and Todoroki—he’s choosing to leave Asui out of it, since she’s already moved on enough to try and apologize twice. Iida isn’t here but even if he was, the other boy makes it really hard to yell at him anymore—though he’s not quite sure Todoroki needs any more points to be made.

So he just clocks the brunette with a pointed, red stare, just hoping that it’ll remind her of Bakugou. “And you just chose to ignore that? Couldn’t trust what Deku was saying?”

“He is selfless and self destructive, and was even more so after first year.” Todoroki says evenly, though Eijirou’s known him long enough to know that he’s saying this to explain instead of defend himself. “At the time, I was worried about him ignoring his own discomfort to avoid anyone openly causing problems with Bakugou.”

Uraraka nods along. “It did seem like something he’d do. That’s why I sent the email, so it’d all be in the open.”

“You thought that… that’s so stupid, I’m sorry.” The redhead laughs humorlessly, and Mina shuffles in her seat, well aware of his warning signs of him crashing out after middle school.

Eijirou has to force himself not to do so in front of them. He prides himself on being a good friend and person—on considering what people both need and want and how to balance that. They clearly didn’t think about this for Midoriya, and it makes him all the more upset.

“So to you it made sense that if Deku cared enough about Bakugou to sacrifice himself or his happiness for him even after kicking his ass and fighting him in public when he feels like it, that the right move was to be cruel and annoyed at Bakugou, just, constantly? That sounded smart to you?”

At the very least when it’s put like that, Todoroki’s face doesn’t change much but it’s still enough for him to see that something clicked, and he lowers his chin in shame. “Ah.”

But Uraraka doesn’t budge. “I still don’t think Deku knows what’s good for him.”

“I keep telling you to bring that to me .” Midoriya says, looking at his best friend with wide, distraught green eyes. It’s like she looks at him, this five-foot nine, built, stronger than them all man, and sees the fourteen year old boy she met. “Not to Kacchan. He doesn’t deserve that, Ochako.”

“I don’t get why you’re so obsessed with protecting him! He’s the top of our class, his quirk is powerful that even an idiot could become a hero with it, his family is rich, his parents are still together, the teachers at our school coddle him and he has a thousand things going for him down to his looks! He doesn’t need any help!”

Feeling unstable, Eijirou’s sharp teeth bare in her direction as he growls out, “That makes it okay to be cruel to him because you think his life is all sunshine and rainbows?”

He’s never heard anything so stupid .

Brown eyes just look stubbornly back at him as she repeats “Bakugou doesn’t need any help.” without an ounce of care on how much of a lie that statement could be.

“You think that’s true? You stupid?” A gruff voice asks, and they all turn to see Bakugou standing in the doorway, eyes red, hood up and looking every bit of the wreck that Eijirou knows he deserves to be. He gulps nervously. Fuck. He’s back too soon. 

Mina stands up again but Sero’s tape catching her arm stops her from rushing him.

“Kacchan-”

“No, shut up, Deku.” Bakugou waves Midoriya off, staring down Uraraka. “Want to fucking meet my parents? Go see my house? It’s right across the fuckin’ street, you don’t have to take a train or nothing. We can all go make the trip and you can decide if being rich is the reason Deku pisses me off.”

Kaminari’s jaw drops and Eijirou feels a little sap from his left side, which, fair enough. He’s not even heard of Deku being allowed to visit the Bakugou household and after what Deku’s told him about what he knows, he cannot fathom a reason Bakugou would allow this.

“Are we all going?” The electric boy asks, mouth left open.

“Ask Shitty Deku.” Bakugou gruffs out, not looking away from Uraraka once. “He’s the one that’d have to ask to get the doors unlocked.”

“Kacchan I’m, I’m not sure that I’m comfortable asking to go over and-”

“Why not? Don’t you want your shitty friends to get it? You’re crying over shit that can be easily solved, it’s stupid and I’m fucking sick of it.”

Green eyes flick between Bakugou and Eijirou, but Eijirou is just as confused as Deku is. “Well, I-I know that this could, um, answer questions but I don’t, I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. Auntie and Uncle aren’t expecting us, and Mom’s cooking dinner. And it could be uncomfortable for our introverted friends.”

“You’d come.” When he says this, Bakugou clearly means so they won’t be dicks but Eijirou doesn’t think he understands how easily children who were loved can look at children who weren’t and see what’s missing. Uraraka is a hero for her family. She’d figure out things he doesn’t want.

“I am interested in seeing your home.” Todoroki states.

Bakugou stares at him before nodding. “Text them, Deku.”

Midoriya weakly shakes his head. “Kacchan…”

“Text them.” He repeats. “I’m showing up on that fucking doorstep in ten minutes whether you do it or not and I’m damn sure you’d prefer that when I do, that shitty old hag has a warning.”

Eijirou realizes—feeling like he’s going to be sick, feeling like there’s a fist tightening in his gut—that Bakugou is waging Deku’s willingness to be in a household where he knows his parents are abusing him but love Deku all so his friends see that against his parents potentially hurting him because Deku doesn’t do something.

“I hate when you do this, Kacchan.” Deku says honestly, but pulls out his phone anyway.

“You’re the idiot that wanted to stand up for me.” Bakugou mocks, and Eijirou feels like he missed something. “Floaty doesn’t give a fuck about me so she should learn why I didn’t give a fuck about you.”

The redhead gets up and crosses the room, going to reach out and take Bakugou’s shoulder but he moves out of the touch, even if he doesn’t stomp away. “Kats,” He says quietly, lowering his head to look him in the eye properly—red to red. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

If anyone here isn’t good for themself, it’s him.

“Why’re you fuckin’ doubting me, Shitty Hair?”

“It feels like you’re punishing Uraraka by introducing her to your parents.” Eijirou points out, and Bakugou lets him grab his wrist. He finds it sweaty, and when he takes his pulse, it’s fast. “That’s concerning, that’s… I introduce people to my moms when I like them.”

“Yeah, well,” Bakugou shrugs. “You’ve met the old hag.”

“And your dad?” He pushes.

“You’ll see, stupid. Shut up.”

Chapter Text

What a fucking idiot Katsuki is for speaking before he fucking thinks about it just because he cried. 

Just like Deku would’ve. 

The worst part is that he knows if he turned around and said he doesn’t want to anymore, neither Eijirou or Izuku would let anyone say otherwise; he could still turn this decision around. But he’s more willing to let his mom prove how weak he is to everyone than to let them think he’s a coward.

You can create strength—you can’t do the same with bravery.

He doesn’t care what that green haired freak says.

Everyone is a little quiet on the way there (everyone meaning him, Ei, Deku, Floaty, Todoroki and Sero, since he naturally de-escalates most situations [when he’s not the one causing them]). There’s a sense of urgency and surprise with the topic at hand (meeting his parents) that nobody is comfortable with.

Katsuki supposes that if he was more confident walking to his own house, everyone else would be too.

Not that he really cares about any of that stuff.

They pass by the front gate and Deku catches at his wrist, voice low as he asks “Are you sure about this, Kacchan?” but the explosive boy just sneers, rips his hand away and stops up towards the foyer.

Uraraka follows the closest, eyeing the giant house with clear envy in his eyes.

It makes him snort.

He’s damn sure she’ll understand that his money has nothing on her parents.

By the time they’re done walking up the steps, Katsuki is sure that one of the hag’s temporary PA’s told her of their arrival—temporary because she’s so fucking toxic that not even people who are paid to be around her last long—the door is being thrown open and his mother’s excited shout rings out.

“My boy’s home!” She shouts, and the love and excitement is so tangible it makes Katsuki itch to detonate.

Uraraka looks at Half ‘n Half like I told you so.

But then she hugs Deku and pats him on the head, pushing past Katsuki to reach him and says “Izuku, I’m glad you’re here.” and the surprised look on Floaty’s face is almost laughable if it wasn’t at his own expense.

Then her mood drops and her cold eyes turn to meet Katsuki’s.

Red to terrible red. “Brat.”

“Hag.” He responds.

Yeah, that’s right. She doesn’t give a shit about him. Who would have guessed?

Katsuki’s mother just scoffs and ushers everyone inside, Katsuki last and Eijirou with a suspicious look that makes his smile waver for one of the first times since they met. Pink Cheeks better already be learning shit because he’s not putting himself through the line of fire for no god damned reason.

They swap out shoes for house slippers and follow his dad into the sitting room where everyone gets a seat but him and Todoroki, who insists on standing—hag says it’s improper to relax around his guests, so he needs to stand.

“Dig your heels in the ground like a man.” She says.

Uraraka is the first one to really talk, looking around. “Mrs. Bakugou, you have such a night house!”

The explosive boy hopes that she’s noticing the bare, pristine walls. 

The lack of family photos.

“Thank you! So glad someone appreciates it.” Hag snaps, glaring at Katsuki. “I put in a lot of work.”

Dad sighs, knowing exactly why she’s saying that. “I tried my best to help you out, dear.”

“You picked out the wall paper, Masaru!”

“Excuse me for not being a master at interior design.”

“Can’t you two not fucking argue in front of guests?”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that!”

“And who are you to talk about arguing, brat!”

“Why the fuck would I listen to either of you?”

“I am your father, you have to respect me.”

“Oh, I’ll make you listen to me, Katsuki!”

Deku laughs nervously and him talking is the only reason that Katsuki doesn’t start yelling past all of the blood rushing between his ears. “Auntie, my mom wanted to know if you have any new recipes for her to try out? She’ll send some to me at the dorms.”

“Of course, Izuku. I’ll get them right away.” The hag says this too sweetly, and her nails dig into Katsuki’s skin when she walks past him, gripping him by the shoulder. 

It’s a warning, a shut up, or else. 

It makes his skin crawl; makes him eye the wine glass by her chair.

There’s now way that even his piece of shit mother would hurt him in front of everyone else, no, she’d wait and let her anger fester until the next time they’re actually alone. For a holiday or summer. But that doesn’t stop the intrusive thoughts. Or the hope that she will hurt him in front of them.

Maybe it won’t be so bad that way.

But then—it’s a punishment for a reason.

Katsuki shouldn’t try to avoid it.

“Can I see your room, Blasty?” Eijirou whispers, looking up at him from the couch. Katsuki clenches his teeth when he hears the intake of breath from the hag, probably going to insult him or god forbid, even be rude to the Kirishima boy himself.

But, as per usual, Deku butts right in. “I think that’s a great idea! It gives Uncle Masaru time to make tea, too.”

And that’s how they end up heading to Katsuki’s room.

As he leads the way up the stairs, he hears Todoroki pointing things out to Deku in a low tone as Uraraka watches on. He doesn’t hear much but catches a few words. Most of it is about how clean—bare—the place is, how he saw a big, updated picture of Izuku on the mantle but Katsuki’s was still from middle school, before he was even able to apply to UA.

The blond does not say, 

I’m the one who used to change out my picture. 

He does not say he’s had to pay for school photos himself. He does not mention anything else because he’s not sure how much would be believed, or what would make anyone of them realize that money doesn’t mean much in terms of a childhood.

It’s about what they can see, anyway.

Not about what he could say.

“You must have photoshoots taken here often for your father’s business.” Floaty says just as they get in the hallway. “For it to always look like this.”

“They just don’t care enough about me to make it seem like I live here, or make it comfortable for anyone since they’re always leaving and staying in other places.” Katsuki says this with as little inflection as he can—to make it seem like the fact it is. “The hag only puts photos up of me or tries to find metals to show off when she’s being praised as a mom.”

Uraraka scoffs. “That’s ridiculous, you have so many trophies.”

Red eyes blink at her, hand on his room’s door handle. “Exactly.”

He opens it after having forgotten what was on the other side. 

The last time that he was here, his mother woke him up in the middle of the night screaming and then he ran down to Deku’s house. His bed’s unmade and his lamp is broken, the closet door is still open too from where he grabbed his go-bag and there’s a dried spot where his cup of water was knocked over.

“Why does your room look like this?” Todoroki questions. Katsuki rolls his eyes at the monotone. “You are a very carefully put together person.”

“An argument.” He answers simply. “I didn’t clean anything up before leaving.”

So Katsuki does now—it’s routine to pick up right where he left off. He doesn’t even process that this might be abnormal, that this might show more than he’s willing, until he’s already done with everything else and busy unscrewing the light bulb from the broken lamp.

Sero gets his attention with a cough.

He looks up and everyone is staring at him. “What?” The explosive boy snaps.

“This is just very ...normal for you.” Eijirou explains.

Katsuki grits his teeth together. “It’s my house. Of course it’s fucking normal.”

“You destroy your room when you argue?” Urarska asks.

“No.” He says honestly, and tosses the light bulb out but stands the lamp back in place. 

His walls are empty, many of his things are in boxes visible from his closet; it’s nothing like his dorm room—perfect and red and full of everything that makes Katsuki Katsuki. Everything important is obviously at the dorms too, or tucked into Deku’s closet as a safe space. 

Todoroki follows where he’s looking. “Why are your things packed?*

“So I can move.” He answers plainly. 

“Uncle Masaru is kicking him out on his eighteenth birthday.” Deku blurts. Katsuki glares while Kirishima gapes. “Sorry, um, yeah… uh… he’s just preparing for it since it will happen during third year…”

Urarska scoffs, but it doesn’t seem as harsh as before. Her arms are still crossed. “Let me guess, they’re paying for some fancy apartment.”

“You of all people know pro heroes pay well.” Katsuki bites back out. “I knew they’ve wanted to kick me out since I was eleven fucking years old. You think they give a shit whether I’m in a pent hour or on the street? At least your fucking parents want you home.”

“They’re worried I’m weak.” She defends.

“Yeah?” He counters. “Go ask the hag how strong I am.”

Shitty Hair steps forward shaking his head as if he has any right to understand how far the explosive boy is taking this. 

“Let’s calm down, guys, and just… okay…?” The redhead says. “Let me ask everyone this: what do you think of the Bakugou house now that you’re actually in it.”

“Mrs. Bakugou doesn’t love her son, it appears his father had a child to pass on his name instead of to be a nutting caregiver as well.” Half n’ Half cuts right to the shitty point. Sero sucks in a breath. “It’s clear that they want a child they get to see occasionally and can be emotionally attached to without taking responsibility, which is why they like Izuku.”

“I wish they didn’t.” Deku says, and it takes Katsuki by surprise.

Since when?

“Have they always looked at you like that?” Eijirou asks him, red eyes sad; hands clenched. “Like… like you’re a bug or something. Like you’re worthless? And then-”

“Then they turn to Deku and they're nice and soft and they're real parents. Just for him.” Katsuki nods in agreement. Yeah, they’ve preferred everyone to their own son. Something has always been wrong with him—something has always been unlovable. “Yeah. It’s been like that since we met him.”

Which is basically their whole lives. 

He hates Deku so much. 

Hates himself more for not arguing when Todoroki said that his mother didn't love and his father didn't want him: angry at himself that it didn't even cross his mind until right now because of how true it is.

“I mean, they’re your parents, right?” Uraraka says frustrated, one hand fisted in her hair as her eyes turn up to meet his, watery brown to a tired red. “They have to love you.”

“They don’t have to do shit. If your parents love you, that’s a privilege. Not a fucking right. Yeah, not everyone can be rich, yeah, whatever. Do better. Work harder. Be awesome like me. But you can’t work harder at making your parents give a shit about you if they don’t.”

Eijirou frowns and his eyes look like they’re collecting tears. “Awh… Kats…”

“I’m a trophy son. So what?” He shrugs. He wants to run again; this is suddenly getting far too much. He doesn't want anyone's pity, especially not Uraraka's. “I don’t even know if I love them. I just know that’s my mom, and that’s my dad.”

The way Katsuki’s loved has always been destructive, it probably won’t ever change. He’s never loved someone enough to believe they won’t hurt him and he’s not allowed himself to love Kirishima, or Deku, or any of the extras, not when he was born with these hands, and this attitude, and all his strings attached.

He’s good at loving like he’s good at taking hits.

And yeah, the truth of the matter is that he gets that from his father.

He yells like the hag, they’re identical in most areas, quick to anger and prideful, they raise their chin at everyone even if they’re someone they’ve looked up to. But he doesn’t hurt others like her.

Not anymore. 

Maybe not ever.

Katsuki drowns like his father, takes her hits and the holding of her quirk with a grit of his teeth and silence. He doesn’t throw cups back at her or slam doors, or hit her back, he locks the bathroom closed behind him, sits in the shower and pretends that he’s anywhere but there.

He’s like them both, yes.

But neither of them love him.

He likes to think if the impossible happens and he has kids, he’d love them. Maybe. Maybe he should just never attempt. 

Why risk it?

“Take me back.” Uraraka says suddenly. “I feel light headed.”

“Try living here…” Katsuki mumbles. 

She wouldn’t last a day.

“Okay.* Deku easily agrees, looking at the blond for confirmation. He shrugs, a non-verbal whatever that makes the idiot nod, and leads them back downstairs. “Let’s go.”

Katsuki doesn’t miss how Shitty Hair and Elbows stay on either side of him like guards, how his stupid boyfriend tries to keep a hand on him at all times—how his hold gets tight, almost like he’s upset, when his parents only bother to say goodbye to Deku and Floaty, telling her to get better.

He’s glad she feels sick because of him.

Maybe now he can get some peace.