Here goes nothing!
If I hate it, I'll delete and pretend it never happened.

A Kiribaku thread.

Kirishima Eijirou never shuts the fuck up. Seriously. Never.

Bakugou has listened to the redhead's muffled words as he shovels in mouthful after mouthful of meat.

Kirishima calls him, actually dials his fucking number, despite living in the dorm next door to him. Just to describe an anime he's bingeing.

When they study, he talks about anything and everything and Bakugou swears that if he has to listen to the "Denki asked her out, but she said she had plans already..." speech one more time, Bakugou was gonna lose it.

Seriously. Once Kirishima had talked around a toothbrush and a mouthful of minty foam just describe the dream he had. He was a fucking mess by the end of it, toothpaste clear to his chin.

Bakugou is always in the loop. The once place he never really thought he'd find himself.

Bakugou has never had friends. Not really. He's had followers. Useless idiots who never strayed outside of his shadow just because it was fucking clear Bakugou was going places.

And then there's Deku. Who falls under that category and doesn't at the same time.

Now... now Bakugou has *friends*.

And he *knows* shit about them. He knows that Kaminari is (a disaster bi) allergic to shellfish & nickel. He knows that he let a girl dread his hair in 7th grade just because he thought he'd get a date with her. He knows that he had to visit Recovery Girl for zapping his dick.

He knows ALOT of shit about Mina. She has more sex toys than toes, she's already streaked 6 times this year. She keeps vodka in her room. She's actually hardass and Bakugou doesn't want to think about it, but he's pretty sure he caught her and Tooru together once.

And *really* he doesn't want to know the sex facts about his... friends. But Eijirou keeps supplying, whispering the secrets the moment they get alone.

"Didja hear about Sero?" Kirishima asks him one day on their way to the arcade. "He fell for another of Kami's tricks."

"It's not exactly "falling for Dunceface's tricks" when Sero blindly does whatever Pikachu asks, just because he wants to suck his cock.

"KATSUKI!" Kirishima hisses. And fuck. *Fuck*. His given name on Kirishima's tongue sounds so sweet. "You shouldn't say that stuff!"

"It's true, itnit? 's not like it's a secret." /So stop looking at me what that pouty face./ "Anyway what about Soysauce?"

Kirishima's full fledged grin stops Bakugou's heart. "Kami dared him to wax his balls with his tape. Now he can't sit down. And Jirou says she saw Kami holding Sero's crouch, apologizing profusely as he literally dragged him by the balls to RecoveryGirl."

And that's not even the half of it. He knows that Jirou has tattoos. A butterfly on her lower back and a music note on her ankle. And Shinsou? That troll doll is into some *weird* shit.

Bakugou even learns things about people he doesn't interact with by choice.

"Monoma copied Present Mics quirk once and couldn't turn it off. Tetsu says he cried." Kirishima bumps his shoulder. "Don't use that information for evil, Blasty."

As if he fucking would.
He would never betray Kirishima's trust like that.

He knows that Kirishima tells him just because the guy has to tell *somebody* or he'll explode. He knows by the way Kiri leans in close, his voice hushed, that these tidbits are just their little secret.

And fuck, okay. Maybe he likes it.

Maybe he likes the way Kirishima's eyes light up when he sees him. Like a big fucking retriever, vibrating with excitement as he pulls Bakugou by the hand into some random corner, his lips brushing his ear as he "spills the tea" (as he puts it.)

That's why, when the extra detailed commentary suddenly stops Bakugou becomes worried.

"Worried".

Worried- is the sane way to describe it. It's the *normal* way to describe it. The word suggests something light.

Something that's okay.

But... no. Worried is not the word Bakugou is thinking.

He feels like a kid left alone at the candy store during closing hour.

It's misplaced. The silence between him and Kirishima. It's never been like this. Not since after the attack on the USJ when Kirishima attached himself to Bakugou's hip.

Suddenly, Bakugou is standing alone. Or at least it feels like it. Even in a crowded classroom- he feels alone.

And he knows, he fucking *knows* that it's the absence of that shitty ass shark tooth smile aimed in his direction.

It doesn't happen overnight. It's not swift, or all at once. Kirishima still meets with him in the mornings to walk to class. He still walks him home to the dorms. They train together. They study. They game. They watch Netflix and they cook food together.

Okay, /Bakugou/ cooks.

Kirishima is a disaster in the kitchen.

But no. Looking back on it, it's been happening FOR WEEKS. And Bakugou hasn't fucking noticed. Not until...

"After we study I'll kick you ass at Overwatch. I got a new skin for--"

"Oh." Kirishima suddenly says, looking up from his phone. "I can't study tonight."

"Why the fuck not?"

It's not a weird question. After all, Kirishima is the one who always invites himself to Bakugou's room. He's the one that demands they text, and hang out and...

"Are you listening to me?" Kirishima asks with a small smile, stopping his mental spiral.

Because he's so damn good at reading Bakugou. Like he has a damn manual for it or something.

"Fucking say it again."

"I said, I'm going to have to cancel our study sess Thursday too. Sorry, Blasty."

But wait a godsdamn second.

Kiri doesn't LOOK sorry.

He's not looking down at his feet, a telltale sign Shitty Hair is feeling down. He doesn't have *the smile* on his face. The one that looks... off somehow. Like he's trying to recreate his usual grin but forgot how.

What the fuck

What the FUCK

Bakugou stops walking. Just stops dead ass in the middle of the sidewalk. His bag bumps against his side and he's feeling so out of his element that his fucking Hero History book almost knocks him into the wall.

"What the fuck for?"

It feels like a slap in the face.

No, that's not right.

It hurts much worse. Like an acid burn.

But it's not his face that hurts. It's lower.

Like a dull ache in his chest.

Yeah.

That's better. *That's* the way to describe it.

Yeah. Kirishima's face, his fucking *BLUSH* and the coy way he ducks his head down? Yeah. That makes Bakugou feel like someone is pouring acid on his chest.

"I got a thing."

And that's it. That's all Kirishima says on it.

Kirishima Eijirou. THE Kirishima Eijirou that spent 54 minutes in line for a game's release to describe to Bakugou the superiority of canned cheese.

/I got a thing./

Bakugou can think of fifty fucking things to say.

"What could be more important than me?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

But the main thing he thinks about is just screaming "A thing? A THING?" In Kirishima's face until he passes out.

He doesn't say any of that. Because while he can think it all he wants, Katsuki knows the answers.

"What could be more important than me?"

Clearly something. And really, they never studied hard on Mondays. They usually fucked around, showed each other memes and played videos.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Well, fucking *obviously* he thinks he's Kirishima.

And Bakugou has always let Kirishima do whatever he wants.

So he says nothing. Not a damn word.

And it's definetly the first time in his entire life that Katsuki has held his tongue.

He hates it just as much as he always thought he would.

Curfew is at ten.

CURFEW IS A TEN.

So why THE FUCK does Bakugou hear Eijirou's keys jingle in the hall at 1:04am?

And he fucking *knows* that's who it is. It always takes Shitty Hair two literal minutes to sort through his numerous keychains to find the only key on the ring.

And there's no "convincing himself this is a dream" because as much as he's fucking tried Bakugou hasn't been able to close his eyes since he heard Kiri's door shut before dinner.

The walls are thin.

It's something that they've both been thankful for in the past. After Kamino. When Kirishima got those fucking awful nightmares and Katsuki heard him sobbing through the wall.

Just.... after Kamino in general.

And okay, fine. Fine.

Maybe Katsuki hasn't been exactly honest with what him and Kirishima have been doing.

He has not been lying to himself. Because that's some pussy shit and Katsuki isn't a pussy.

But... maybe he's been ignoring some things?

They study together. They train. They game. They watch Netflix and cook food.

Bakugou isn't used to having friends. Some would say he's never had one before Kiri.

He isn't expected to KNOW.

No one can blame him for it. If they found out they'd just say he's painfully ignorant. That he doesn't know how friends act because he's never had one.

"Didja hear?" Kiri had whispered to him. "Monoma copied Present Mic's quirk once and couldn't turn it off. Tetsu says he cried." Kirishima had bumped their shoulders together. Their thighs had brushed.

Bakugou's hand had been in Kirishima's hair, hadn't it?

Katsuki knows it was. He remembers because the movement of his fingers through the soft strands had tickled his nose.

They had been lazing in Katsuki's bed. Kirishima was reading a comic and Bakugou was scrolling on his phone.

Kirishima hadn't went to his own room that night.

Sometimes, he didn't. It wasn't a big deal.

Kamino had really fucked them up.

So what. Friends had sleepovers all the fucking time.

Katsuki is not painfully ignorant.

He fucking knows.

And that's why it hurts. That's why it fucking hurts so godsdamn bad when he hears Kirishima's squeal.

Katsuki can see him. He's one hundred percent sure Kirishima is face down on his bed, squealing happiness into his shark pillow, kicking his feet like a kid who found out they were going to Disney World.

So. The thing went well then.

Well, shit, of course it did. It's three hours passed curfew.

And Kirishima is next door acting like a middle school girl with a crush.

Katsuki doesn't sleep.

~~~~~

"--you seen him? I stopped by his room this morning and he wasn't there."

"Uh no. Sorry Kirishima. Are you sure Kacchan wasn't in there? Maybe he had his headphones in?"

"I'm sure! I unlo-- The door was unlocked," Kirishima corrects.

Katsuki closes his eyes. He swallows his groan. /Yeah. Probably shouldn't tell Deku you have a key to my room./

Because that's probably not a friend thing either.

Katsuki slams his locker shut as soon as the two round the corner. Deku's reply to Kirishima catches in his throat and Bakugou *sees* concern wash over his fucking freckled face.

"Kacchan are you oka--"

"Fuckin' fine," he spits, turning to leave the locker room. He just wants to get today over with so he can go back to his room

And what?

Obsess over Eijirou's *thing*? Replay his excited scream like a record in his head?

Aizawa bans him from the exercise.

Not his fucking fault.

No, it's Kirishima's. It's---

Katsuki's fists clench, dark grey smoke curling up around the sides.

It's...

Kirishima wore his Winter costume to class today.

It's fucking July. A crisp 76 degrees Fahrenheit.

His winter costume that's a fucking replica of his normal sleeved costume. Except it favors a sweatshirt croptop more, with a large collar and black material that falls just above his nipples.

Huh. Wonder why Kirishima would need to cover skin in July.

Thinking about it is what got him kicked out of class. He may or may not have toppled a building.

Or three.

Katsuki strips off his costume. Usually he folds it, treats it with the upmost care because that's his livelihood.

He crams it to the bottom of his duffel and walks to the dorms alone.

This shit with Kirishima isn't going to bother him. It isn't going to crawl under his skin or knock him off track.

He's not some weakling. He's going to stop thinking about it. He's not going to obsess over it. He's not going to cry.

No. No, Katsuki just has allergies. He scrubs angrily at his face. Fucking *allergies.*

He doesn't remember classes the next day. He knows he went because he has the notes. Written in his own hand.

But as he's laying on his bed that evening, Katsuki realizes that he can't remember one single thing from lecture.

It's Thursday.

Kirishima has that *thing*.

Katsuki has nothing.

Why the fuck did he let this happen?

Not *this* in particular. No. Why did he fucking let Eijirou worm his way into his life?

Katsuki has never needed ANYONE.

He should have pushed Kirishima away. He shouldn't have texted him so much. He shouldn't have let him sleep next to him, he should have never woken up with him, tangeled together, his warm chest under Katsuki's cheek--

>C r a c k<

"What the fuck?!"

Katsuki jumps out of bed, his palms smoking. When he sees who it is, the burn in his palms only amplifies. "What the FUCK are you doing?" He demands.

Kirishima gives him that trademark grin. The one that makes Katsuki shiver. "I'm checking up on my best bro, of course!" And he gives that grin to Katsuki while he walks in.

Through Katsuki's balcony doors.

His previously LOCKED balcony doors.

His previously locked balcony doors that do not have an outside key.

"So you fucking broke in?! What the hell was wrong with the front door?!"

Kirishima's expression turns shy. "Well, you weren't answering. And I kinda thought you might be holding the door shut? Since you've been ignoring me for *days.*" He flops onto the mattress, looking up at Bakugou with big round eyes. "DAYS, Blasty."

"That's fucking stupid." Katsuki mumbles.

"Which part?" Kirishima asks cheekily, knowing full fucking well Bakugou has actually been avoiding him.

Change the subject!

"I thought you had a thing?"

/Not to that. Fuck, not to that./

Katsuki wants to take the words back. He wants to reach across the distance between them and explode it. He wants....

A lot of things.

"Yep! But it's cool. I just mentioned I thought something was up with my Blasty and they were chill to reschedule."

They. They.
Was Kirishima really playing the pronoun game?

'They' could mean anything from Eijirou's soft old grandmother to some hot manly sensitive twink that wanted nothing more than to steal Kiri away from Katsuki.

AWAY FROM THE GROUP.

Not from Katsuki.

From the group.

"Yep," Kirishima says, popping the p. He grabs his discarded comic book from where he left it spread open on the nightstand. It's not the only thing of his in here, actually Kiri's clothes are on the floor, his textbooks are on the desk and his sports drinks are in the minifridge

"Plus, we can go to dinner any night. But I thought you needed me here."

Dinner.

That's the last puzzle piece. And when it clicks into place, at the fucking MOMENT of realization when the facts spread out in front of him Katsuki falls back on his ass into his desk chair.

Katsuki has been replaced.

/No you fucking idiot./ That's not true.

Katsuki was never in that spot to begin with.

And that's his own fault. He knows it is. He remembers every instance where he stupidly dug his own grave.

Pushing Kirishima's arm off his shoulders in the cafeteria. Moving seats in the common room when their thighs brushed. Exploding Kirishima's face when he wrapped his arms around Bakugou's waist.

Fuck

Why was he so bad at that shit. He had WANTED Kirishima's touch. But at the same time, it was all so overwelmingly new. It made it hard to breathe. He could only really tolerate it under the safe cover of darkness when Kirishima's words washed over him like silk in the night.

And now Kirishima was dating.

Katsuki stupidly thinks he's going be pissed at himself forever.

This is his fault after all.

It always been the two of them. Sure, there was the Bakusquad. And yeah, they were all good friends.

But what he and Kirishima did alone was different.

It's not that they were doing anything scandalous. But they didn't exactly want the others to know.

Know what exactly?

He could never figure it out. If they weren't doing anything scandalous then why did Bakugou's cheeks fill with red and his chest heave when he heard Kirishima's knock on the wall to signal he was coming over?

He knows the exact moment he figures it out.

It's also the same moment all the anger directed at himself finds a new target.

"HEY, Shitty Hair. Did you finish your problem? Because it looks like you're not even working at algebra."

Kirishima ignores the math textbook open on his lap. His thumbs are flying across the device and he's smiling. It drives Katsuki insane.

The tap tap tap of his fingers.

The stretch stretch stretch of every second that passes. It feels like he's getting happier and happier with each character typed.

It's not fair. Bakugou is assaulted with jealousy. Kirishima should only be that happy around him.

"Hey," Katsuki growls. "Get the fuck off your phone and study."

Kirishima tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. He closes his math book despite being told the exact opposite. "Actually," he says "Me and Tetsutetsu are going to go to Ground Beta. I want to work on my left hook."

....tetsu...tetsu?

Katsuki was being stood up for someone in 1B?!

Maybe it's a misunderstanding.

Wouldn't that be just Bakugou's luck to get all pissed off about something that wasn't even actually happening?

Kirishima is allowed to have friends. He's allowed to go to ground beta and practice whatever he wants with who ever he wants.

Of course, it is kinda fucking ridiculous that he'd want to spar with Tetsu and not even have the balls to ask Bakugou.

It's not a misunderstanding.

Kirishima comes in late. Katsuki hears his keys. Not 1am late, not even 8pm, but it still feels late some how, even with the sun still out.

Katsuki shifts on his bed, debating going over there. Just to see Kirishima. To make sure he's....

Got that left hook perfected.

Of course he can't just go over there. Not without reason. He needs to think of the perfect plan. Something ingenious that will make it impossible for Kirishima to question his motives.

"Hey Shitty Hair," he calls, opening the door. "You forgot your fucking pencil over her--e."

What the FUCK is Bakugou looking at.

"'Shitty Hair?' Is that your pet name for him? That's kinda fucked up dude."

Katsuki did NOT ask this watered down, 1B reject for his opinion. ESPECIALLY not when said asshole is spread out on Kirishima's bed.

"Also, no judgement bro, but a pencil? Are you that OCD?"

Bakugou mentally berates his cheeks into submission. Not even a hint of pink touches his face. He will not show this asshole that his words are fucking with him.

"Where's Kirishima?" Katsuki growls, fists clenching.

"Bathroom." Tetsutetsu grins. And despite having the same shark toothed smile, it looks nothing remotely like Kiri's. "I knocked his hair down," He smirks. "He has to fix it."

This ASSHOLE

Half of Katsuki blanches to think of what that statement implies. The other half of Katsuki, doesn't give a fuck. He just wants to knock this fucker's teeth out.

"Alright! It's spiked again. I-- oh! Blasty! Hey! Didja need something?"

/You. I need *you.*/

Bakugou turns on his heel and leaves.

It hurts even worse on Sunday.

He and Kirishima have no plans. And still. Still, it damn near rips his fucking heart out to see Kirishima buzz right passed him, not even seeing him in the kitchen, as he meets Tetsutetsu downstairs.

Kirishima hadn't even TOLD him.

The same Kirishima that had once texted Bakugou at 11 at night just to inform him that he was thinking about buying new shoes.

Well. It's fucking clear now, at least, Bakugou admits to himself. He sighs, throwing a perfectly full bowl of cereal into the trash, dish and all.

It's because he's in love with Kirishima. It's *always* been because he's in love with him.

That shark-tooth idiot crawling under all his defenses, Simultaneously making him a better person and a better hero.

He'd never expected pure sunshine in a human body.

He hadn't been able to prepare for it.

Katsuki tries to find the words to tell Kiri, standing in front of the mirror running over speeches that sound fucking stupid and no, okay no he his not doing that, he is not confessing like this

If he could just force the words out of his throat everything would be easier. His gut wouldn't would be a fucking mess, his chest wouldn't clinch and he wouldn't care that Kirishima might go to the gym without him.

Yeah. That's it.

Saying the words outloud would set him free or some shit.

So he treats his problem like a villain. The way that the insecurities are pounding around inside of his skull, wrecking havoc, he might as well.

He forms a plan of attack, something to keep him on track and keep him sane. He practices fancy words in the mirror, practices *smiling.*

Because it always makes Kirishima happy when he does it. Like Bakugou's smile feeds his.

Finally he beats his brain into submission.

He's gonna do it. Soon.

Yeah.

Soon.

Kirishima smiles at him in the hallway.

Katsuki could do it now, but they have a paper due online at midnight.

It'll have to wait.

The next day, Kirishima brings him a kiwi juice, Katsuki's favourite, and brushes their shoulders together while they snap open their chopsticks.

He could do it now. Just blurt it the fuck out.

Oh wait. No here comes the Bakusquad. He isn't saying shit now.

They get paired up for an English assignment. Research a hero and write a paper on their most controversial moments to highlight the negative effects of the media for a hero

He could say something at any moment for the six hours they work together.

He doesn't.

For... reasons

Katsuki wakes up in a cold sweat. He comes out of sleep with a gasp so deep it's like he was drowning. Sweat soaks the sheets. The sweet scent of Nitroglycerin fills the air.

He can't breathe. He can't breathe, he can't fucking b r e a t h e

Oh *fuck*.

Fuck!

His hands claw at his shirt, ripping the material over his head. His lungs sieze up why can't he get air, he can't get air--

Fuck!

Hot tears drip down his cheeks, his shoulders shake, he gulps in a mouthful of pure sugar... his quirk sparks...

*tap tap*

Kirishima's fingers tap against the wall. Two hard knocks. The code. Their code. From the aftermath of Kamino.

Two knocks. 'You good?'

Katsuki takes a deep breath. It shutters out of him, instantly exhausting him. His first real breath since the dream ended.

Fuck.

Three hard knocks in rapid succession.

'I'm coming over!'

Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut. He wraps his arms around his knees.

/Stop it. Stop being so *weak*./

Bakugou knocks back twice, ignoring the shaking in his hand.

"I'm good."

/I am not weak. I do not need comfort./

"I'm good." He whispers hoarsely.

But it's a lie.

End Part 1!

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