New Thread, who dis?

An Angsty (WITH HAPPY ENDING) KrBk College AU

Featuring: jock-frat Kiri, violent nerd Baku, sidepairing of tddk and A LOT OF SEX

CWs: homophobia, depression, drug/alcohol use, current and past physical abuse, kiri has two moms, bakugou has a brother
Any and all CWs will also appear right before they show up in this thread but there are some heavy topics that go on. Just, take care. Yes, this will have a happy ending. I just like getting Necro feeling angsty with me.

Lets roll.
📚📚📚📚
The smell of sweat and cleaning solution. The sounds of grunts, counts between clenched teeth. Yuuei’s campus gym begins to fill with late afternoon visitors. A mix of sports team members, fitness enthusiasts, and the casuals flitting between the cardio machines.
The October chill chases at their heels as students step inside the warm interior of the fitness complex stretching three floors.
Kirishima Eijirou finishes his third set of 20 reps on the row machine just as he hears a knot of fellow students muttering together with dejected expressions. Looking past them to where their attentions are directed, he sees a shock of blond hair at the leg press machine.
A machine hog; the same blond was on the machine when he started his weight routine fifteen minutes ago.

“Hey,” he interjects, stepping up beside the blond. “You really should hop off and let others get their leg day workouts in, man. It’s the manly gym code during busy hours.”
"Yeah and they can use one of the other three fucking machines." The response comes back with a harsh bite. He doesn’t stop pressing into the platform as he speaks. "Why should I give a shit about any extra’s routine?"
Kirishima shakes his head with a snort and a grin, fists resting at his hips. “Harsh, dude. But it messes up the flow of everyone when one machine is hogged. Plus you’ve done so many reps that you’ve probably hit muscle fatigue. It’s not going to do you any good to keep going.”
The guy growls and finally turns to look at who’s talking to him. "And what the fuck would you know about it shitty hair?"
Kirishima brings one hand up to rub at the back of his neck as his easy smile stays in place and he shrugs. “Well seeing as I’m in sports medicine, it’s kinda my thing. Overdo it and you’ll feel like jelly with no real progress to show for all that effort.”
Kirishima waves toward the leg press. “Especially since you’re using so much weight. Which is impressive by the way!”

"Of course it is." Bakugou starts to get up, not because shitty hair’s right but because he wants to. It’s getting old. "I was done with this shit anyway."
He reaches over to grab a sanitizing wipe and starts to wipe down the station; purposely not looking at the redhead. He doesn’t think he can look at that stupid smile for another second.
“Cool!” Stretching out his arms over his head, Kirishima doesn’t worry about his Alpha Chi Epsilon shirt riding up to expose some of his abdomen as he asks the blonde, “What’s next for your routine?'
'I was planning on doing some benching but my usual bro bailed to hit the cardio room so I’m short a spotter.”

"Whatever you're not doing." He growls back. "There are like fifty other people here. Go fucking bother one of them."
“But I’m already talking to you so why not?” The blonde is fit. All power, edges, and prickly attitude to go along with it. Kirishima has been told he has a problem giving up on people even when they make it clear they don’t want to be bothered. Call it a flaw if you will.
“What’s your personal best at bench then? Clearly you can lift more than the casuals.”

"None of your fucking buisness." Bakugou leads them to the benching stations. Despite his standoffish attitude he isn’t really one to turn someone down if they’re sincerely asking for help.
Sauntering over to the free bench press, Kirishima starts sliding weights onto one side. “Sure, sure,” he responds easily, unperturbed at the blonde’s refusal. “My PR so far is 300. But I’m sticking with 215 today.”
"Whatever. We doing this shit or what?" Bakugo refuses to look at him and those ridiculous arms. Jesus was there any fat on this man?

“Yeah!” The last weight goes on and Kirishima straddles the bench, lowering himself back until he’s positioned right under the bar.
He takes it in both hands and makes minute changes until he has proper form before nodding up at the blonde with a grin. “Good to go, man. Don’t do anything unmanly and let it drop now.”
Bakugou clicks his tongue in response, a scowl on his face. As Kirishima starts, his eyes are locked onto the way his muscles flex under his tank and along his arms.

/What the hell?/

It's not like he isn’t surrounded by dudes all day.
The fuck is wrong with him? He can already feel the tips of his ears getting warm.

Kirishima lifts the bar from the mount and starts his reps.
“Come on man, what’s your PR?” He lets out a soft grunt on the next rep before adding with a wink, “Need to know what best I need to beat so I can look as good as you.”
"Just-just shut the fuck up and focus okay?" God he hopes the blush on his ears isn’t moving to his face. After a few moments of silence he spoke up. "330."
“Damn,” Kirishima breathes as he pushes into the fifth rep and then racks it for the end of his first set. “I’ll have it beat by the end of the month then.” Then he starts the next set of five with gusto.
The next few sets go by pretty quick. Kirishima apparently doesn’t know how to shut up. Bakugou takes it in stride though; his own answers coming in grunts or one liners with curses mixed in.

"Yo shitty hair you almost done? I got shit to do."
He does his last rep with a grunt and then racks it. “Done. What else you gotta do? When I finish up here I’m headed over to get the best protein shake on campus if you wanna join me! Great recovery booster.”
"No." He glares. "We're not going to do this...this fuckin’ friend thing so stop it. I spotted you and that's fucking it okay?"

“Alright then, man.” With a shrug Kirishima stands up and lifts his shirt to wipe away the sweat beading around his face.
“And hey I know my hair is great and all but the name’s Kirishima Eijirou.”

/Abs/.

All Bakugou sees are abs.
The redhead snatches up his water bottle to take a few gulps before adding, “and hey if you ever do need a good shake after a hard workout, check out Plus Ultra over on Shimura Road. They let you pick your flavours and protein type and make it fresh in house.”
It takes a second for it to register that this Kirishima guy is still talking to him. Per usual he just growls out his response. "You're really fucking dense aren't you? I didn’t ask for your name dipshit, nor do I care."
Without giving the redhead a chance to retort, he turns heel and strides off for the locker room.
"Dude." Kaminari, an old friend of Kirishima's, comes up beside him. "Don't waste your time on him. Guy’s a tool. He was in one of my classes last year. Thought he was going to kill someone every time he opened his mouth."
He takes a swig of his water. By no means is he a gym rat like his friend but he hits a treadmill every now and then.

Kirishima admires the blond’s backside as he’s storming off, smile wide and amused. When Kaminari steps up beside him, he shrugs.
“Not very manly but still sounds like a fun guy to me,” he shoots back. “Too bad I never got his name. Maybe next time.”

"Bro you have a death wish if I've ever seen one." Kaminari laughs. "Remind me to tell the boys to start a collection for your funeral."
Kirishima snorts. “That ass is to die for so if he kills me I’m hoping to die happy.” He finally turns toward his friend, the glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m ready for a shake. I bet one of our pals knows who blondie is.”
"Oh my gooood. Can you not for once in your life!" Kaminari groans, being overly dramatic. "Let's get over to Plus Ultra already. I want an iced chai before I crash."

“Fine fine.” Kirishima follows Kaminari out of the gym and off toward Plus Ultra.
His mind can’t shake the crass blond and as they walk up to the coffee shop, he spots a head of green curls coming up from the opposite direction. “Yo, Midoriya! You decide to go for a jog today?”
"What?" Green eyes blink at his friend, practically heaving at this point. "N-no. I just...f-forgot...my-my stuff here." His curls were sticking to his face with sweat, his cheeks so red that his freckles can barely be seen.
“Well we’re about to grab some drinks and chill, see if anyone else is kicking around; it looks like you could use a breather. Wanna grab a table with us?” Kiri grins as he holds open the door for his friends. “I’m also trying to get some dirt on a guy I ran into at the gym.”
Midoriya thanks him for holding the door open for him. "This isn't another one of your weekly crushes is it? Those never go well Kiri..."

"100% is bro. This guy's wild too." Kaminari speaks up before the redhead can.
“Wildly /hot/,” he retorts as he steps inside. “And I’ve had crushes for longer than a week. I have a feeling this one is gunna be worth it. It’s hard to resist an angry blond who never stops swearing. I bet he’d be a loud one in bed.”
"Ew dude!" Kaminari pushes him as they wait in line.

"Angry blond?" Midoriya looks deep in thought before he pulls out his phone and starts typing away. A moment later he shoves the screen in Kirishima's face. "This him?"
It is indeed a picture of the blond from the gym. It looks like it's from the sports festival from the previous year.

“Oh my god!” Kirishima grabs the phone in his excitement.
“That’s him! That’s the beautiful angry face. And his name iiisss—Bakugou Katsuki. Score! You’re a lifesaver Midoriya I could kiss you.”
"Hate to break it to you but Kacchan isn’t exactly friendly to um...people like us." A flush rises high on his cheeks.

Kirishima blinks.

And then blinks again as they wait in line. “/Kacchan/? Wait a minute, Midoriya—you know him personally?”
"Y-yeah." He looks away from him. "We were close friends for...a long time. We had a big fight freshman year of high school and we haven't talked since."

The redhead nods as the line moves up. “Let me guess...the Gay Agenda and how we’re going to take over the world?”
He laughed, "Nothing that bad. Just small town, small mind."

“Well,” Kirishima places his order as they finally come to the counter, “maybe he’s grown up since then. Uni can do that to people. If he hasn’t—he’s missing out on being friends with us awesome studs.”
"Studs..." He lets out a dry laugh. "Kiri you turn heads everywhere you go. Only people who pay me attention are little old ladies who want to pinch my cheeks." Once it's his turn he places his order then heads over to where his stuff is.
“If you would just let me set you up on a few daaaates,” Kirishima whines. Midoriya isn’t his type and they both had agreed that they aren’t the kind of gays who try to date just because they’re both gay. But the freckled guy doesn’t give himself enough credit.
“I’ve seen you shirtless, dude. Show those abs off and you’ll get plenty of people swiping right for you.”

"That's your thing." This time a genuine laugh leaves him. "And who would you even set me up with? How many other depressed ordinary gays do you know?"
“I know people!” Kirishima’s banana blueberry protein shake appears and he snatches it up as he adds, “and even if I don’t I’m the guy to find them for you.”
Once they all have their drinks, they settle in at the table Midoriya has his things at and Kirishima leans forward as he returns to his original objective.
“So what else can you tell me about Mr Kacchan? Favourite colour or what he’s majoring in? Also feel free to tell me to shut up if you don’t wanna talk about him. Really.”
"I don't mind. I forgave him a long time ago." He smiles as he takes a sip of his matcha frappe. "Red. Or at least it was and Chemical Engineering I think? I'm not sure. He is crazy smart so it could really be anything."
Kirishima makes a mental note to wear red as often as possible. Good thing it’s one of his favourites too. He’s got plenty to work with.
“Smart huh? Hot. Though I think he loses smart points for ditching you as a friend. Does he snore? Or talk in his sleep? Is he a dog person or a cat person you think?”
Midoriya laughs again, this time loud enough that he reaches up to cover his mouth. "Wow you're really taken by him aren't you?"

Kaminari absently fiddles on his phone, headphones in, but shaking his head at his friend's fixation.
“Hey if I’m gunna stand a chance at breaking past his asshole barrier I gotta be equipped with as much knowledge as possible. No detail is too small here.”

“Who’re we talking about guys?” Standing at Kaminari’s side stands Uraraka with a wide smile.
Tsuyu appears a moment later holding both of their drinks.

"Kirishima's new crush." Kaminari answers as he takes out one earbud. "Some dude named Bakugou?" He looks at Midoriya to make sure he had it right.
"Yup," The other boy states matter of factly as he takes a long drink of his frappe.

“He’s in our Astronomy class,” Tsuyu states. “He’s the one who calls you airhead, Uraraka.”

Kirishima’s eyes widen. “That’s fantastic. When is your class?”
"Wednesdays at 2 but…," she pauses, her expression looking concerned, "He's a really big jerk Kiri. I don't think this is a good idea."
“See!” Kaminari points a finger at his friend as he turns to the girls. “I already said the same thing but you know him. He won’t listen. You think it’s a bad idea too, right Midoriya?”
Kirishima rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “You all have no faith in me, I swear.”

"I do think it’s not the greatest idea...but if anyone can manage to make friends with him it would be Kirishima..." Midoriya waffles in his thoughts with a frown.
Uraraka sighs. "Fair points on both sides I guess." With a deep inhale, she gives the redhead a big thumbs up. "Good luck! Don’t get yourself killed!"
“If you die, I’ll take your vinyl collection,” Tsuyu adds blankly.

Kirishima laughs as Kaminari splutters, “Uh what?! No I call dibs.”
“Ah I’m feeling so loved right now,” Kirishima quips. “I’ll prove you all wrong and keep my music collection for myself, thank you very much.”

"Hot chocolate with cayenne for Bakugou!" The barista's voice pierces right through their conversation.
All eyes turn toward the counter where the blond in question now stands. He’s in a pair of jeans, a pull over hoodie that was easily 2 sizes too big, and a laptop bag hangs over his shoulder. The most surprising thing of all are the glasses perched on his nose.
"Wow. From far away he almost looks nice." Uraraka whispers.

Kirishima nearly chokes on his protein shake as he stares at their topic of conversation standing there looking too damn good. How can he be so lucky to see him twice in the same day?
“How the hell did I not know of his existence until now?” The redhead mutters to himself.

"Different circles obviously. Someone so hateful probably doesn’t even have friends." Uraraka surmises.
Bakugo has taken a seat at a table at this point; pulling out his laptop and blowing over his hot chocolate as he waits for it to boot.

That comment does something funny to Kirishima. To think that Bakugo doesn’t have friends at all.
Not since Midoriya—it’s an existence he can’t fathom having and it hardens his resolve to at least befriend him. No one should be without at least one friend.
He spares Midoriya a glance to see what his reaction is to Uraraka’s comment. It certainly isn’t his fault that he can no longer count the blond as a friend.
The redhead gets to his feet then and heads over to Bakugo’s table, dropping into the free chair as if he’s been invited. “Yo, didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Bakugou doesn’t even bother looking up from his laptop. "Didn’t realize I had invited you to sit down. Must be nice to be a fucking mind reader."
“I’m just a guy of many talents,” Kirishima returns. “And I’m super curious about your spicy hot chocolate. What does that even taste like?”

"What?" That gets him to look up.
"How do you...Never mind. I'm not doing this. I don't have time for this bullshit. Go back to your losers table and leave me the fuck alone." It doesn’t even dawn on him that he’s just openly admitted to having known Kirishima was in the shop before he came over.
“Hm...alright then.” Kirishima stands up with a shrug and then moves away. Instead of heading back to his circle of friends though, he steps back up to the counter and says something to the cashier, hands over money, and then stands and waits until he’s handed a hot mug.
When he turns around, he walks right back to Bakugou and sits down again.

Ruddy eyes widen as Kirishima sits back down. "Are you fucking stupid or something? Were you accepted based solely on how well you fit into a frat? I told you to get lost."
Anyone else would have been scared off by now. What’s with the guy?

Kirishima doesn’t acknowledge Bakugo’s outburst. Instead he blows at the steamy drink and then hesitates for a moment before lifting it to his lips and having a sip.
“Whoa.” Kirishima turns wide eyes to Bakugo’s glaring ones. “Whoa, dude. That’s—not bad at all. Never woulda thought cayenne would actually enhance hot chocolate like that! How did you discover this sorcery?”
"Chemical properties of the cayenne, dumbass. Enhances the richness of the cocoa. Simple culinary shit." His attention goes back to his laptop. This is the last thing he needs right now.

Especially when he has a lab due by midnight.
He cooks. Kirishima adds that to his mental file. He likes a man who can cook. He takes another sip of the hot chocolate, marvelling at how it tastes. “I’m gunna have to remember this one.” He absently licks his lips as he looks up from the mug and asks, “What’re you working on?”
"A fucking organic chemistry lab. There. I answered. Can we not play 20 goddamn questions?" His eyes were daggers over the top of his laptop.
Oh but those eyes are fire behind the most flattering pair of glasses Kirishima has ever seen. “And I thought I had it rough with my pharmacology class. But organic chem beats that hands down.”
Despite wanting to stick around, he’s not one to interfere with other people’s studies so he stands up and offers a smile to the blond.
“I’ll let you work. But thanks for showing me a new drink. And hey, I have a basketball game later this week. You should come by and check me out. I kill it on the court!”
He grunted a "just fuck off already" in response as he attempts to focus on his homework.

Kirishima simply laughs and waves as he walks back to his previous table where his friends stare at him like he’s grown a second head.
“Alive and kickin’,” he says as he stands beside his vacated chair. “Also he reminded me that I have pharmacology to study so I should roll out.”
"You're actually going to /study/? I stand corrected. Maybe something good will come out of this." Uraraka giggles.

“Hey I study!” Kirishima tries to defend himself. “When I feel like it.”

He slings his backpack over one shoulder, sticking one hand in the pocket of his jeans.
“You all coming to the game on Saturday right?”

Uraraka claps her hands together and smiles. "Of course!"

Midoriya and Kaminari both answer with a quick nod.
Kirishima buzzes with excitement as he makes his way out of the cafe. Saturday feels too far yet too close at the same time.

He really hopes his feisty blond showed up.
📚📚📚📚
Why is he even here? Should he have taken the invitation seriously?

Bakugou hides himself up in the top corner of the bleachers as he tries to avoid everyone else. There are way too many people here and everything’s too damn loud.
This fucking guy better be good at playing or this will be a wasted trip when he could be studying.

Just then the announcer shouts.
Getting everyone’s attention as he introduces the varsity team of Yuuei’s Division 1 basketball. Kirishima, as team captain, is called first, streaking out from the side door.
“You all know and love our Red Riot Kirishima Eijirou! Give it up for the team captain who always keeps it fresh!”

Of course.

Of course loud mouth is the fucking captain.
Bakugou grinds his teeth as he watches him come out onto the court. Doesn’t he know how to order a fucking jersey? That one has to be too small.
The crowds in the bleachers cheer and whistle. Kirishima smiles wide and waves as the rest of his team is called out, giving them high fives as they pass by and start warming up on the court.
It’s packed and a quick sweep of the stands reveals nothing of whether the blond has actually taken him up on his invitation. He does spot his friends with posters held high for him and the other guys on the team that are part of their ragtag crew.
He doesn’t have time to look closer as he turns to join in the warm ups and the opposing team is called to the court.

As the game kicks into gear, Bakugou can’t stop himself from getting involved.
He’s standing up and yelling with the rest of the crowd. Most of the time it’s just insults.

Kirishima dribbles the ball up the court, hyper aware as he moves toward the defense the other team holds and looking for openings.
Sero struggles to get in front of his blocker. Ojiro makes a break from his and Kirishima feigns to the left before pivoting to the right for the pass.
Just as the ball leaves his hands he’s bodily checked, the point guard for the other team smacking his arm that was likely meant for the ball.
He goes down, his tailbone smarting as he hits the ground and the referee blows his whistle.

He can hear the crowds cries. “FOUL!”
The broad player on the opposing team just glances down at him before walking away. Cold. Kirishima just laughs as Sero comes up and helps him off the floor. Free throw time.
In the stands, Bakugou glares and shouts at the opposing player who took Kirishima down, earning himself quite a few glares of his own from those near him.
The game ebbs and flows until the final buzzer sounds and everyone in the stands jumps to their feet as Yuuei is announced the winner 56-33. An easy layup.
As Kirishima high fives the other team for a good game he huffs, lifting his shirt with his free hand to wipe away the sweat at his temples.

When the bleachers start to empty out Bakugou does his best to try and slip out with the crowd.
"Yo Kir." Sero elbows Kirishima to get his attention, "That the blond dude you told us to look out for?" He points over to Bakugou who’s waiting to get out of the gym.
Kirishima’s eyes light up the moment he’s pointed in the blond’s direction. “You rock, Sero.”

He takes off, doing his best to shake hands with the people he passes congratulating him on another win while still moving as swiftly as he can through the sea of spectators.
He loses sight of Bakugou for a minute and worries he’ll vanish but the path clears and he finally reaches the blond just as they clear the gym into the lobby.

“Bakugooouuu!”
An arm slings itself around his shoulders and Kirishima smiles wide. “Dude you made it! So glad organic chemistry didn’t keep you hostage for the weekend.”
He pushes Kirishima off with a huff. "The fuck! Keep your sweaty jock hands to yourself!" There’s an obvious flush up the back of his neck and over the tip of his ears. "And you fucking invited me right?"
Kirishima laughs as he’s pushed away, skin still glistening from the sweat he’d worked up during the game. At some point he needs to head to the locker room to change out of his jersey but getting to talk to Bakugou feels like the priority at the moment.
“I did, I did, but wasn’t sure you’d actually take me up on the invite. I’m really happy you did though. Thanks, man.”

He’d be lying if he hadn’t felt a thrill in his chest when he first saw Bakugou in the crowd.
He’d genuinely been worried the blond would ignore the invitation, as casual as it was. And now that he’s here, Kirishima doesn’t want to let him slip away so soon.
“Hey speaking of invites, the team is throwing a party tonight. I’m sure organic chem and cayenne hot chocolate has you booked solid but if you wanna kick back and have a few drinks, you’re more than welcome! If you wanna wait till I get changed I can show you the place.”
It’s a shot in the dark.

"Pushing your luck don’t you think? This was barely fucking tolerable as it was! Your shitty playing was painful to watch." Even though he’s growling there’s no real heat behind his words. The blush darkens too.
Throwing his arms behind his head, Kirishima grins with teeth. “My shitty playing won us the game but I’m sure after a few drinks you’ll be able to forget the pain of watching me score over and over again tonight.”
He mimes making a shot before taking a step backward. “Anyway if you don’t wanna, no harm no foul--/get it?/— but I gotta swap out these clothes and head over there to get things swinging. If you’re still here when I get back, cool. If not, see ya later!”
With that, the redhead turns back toward the gym to head to the locker room just as most of his teammates exit. He assures them he’s coming and not to wait up for him before ducking in and making quick work of changing.
Bakugou stands there for a moment, uncertain. He really doesn’t have time for this. He’s up to his eyes in homework, not to mention that terrible pun the jock made.
But it has been forever since he was last invited to anything.

"Shit." A growl leaves him as he kicks at the trashcan by the side of a bench. "Fucking shitty hair." After scaring a few girls that walk by with another kick, he sits down, arms crossed over his chest as he waits.
Kirishima talks himself down from getting his hopes up, from getting too excited over an unlikely possibility that Bakugou will be waiting for him when he gets back to the gym lobby.
And yet, when he jaunts out of the locker room and makes it back, rinsed off and dressed in dark denim jeans with a red and black plaid button up left open; there’s Bakugou, brows furrowed looking infinitely pissed but still there.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Kirishima calls as he strides up to the bench. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

"I already know I will but I'm not one to turn down free booze."
He stands up, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Like yesterday he’s in an oversized hoodie and a pair of worn down sneakers.

When they got to the house, Bakugou immediately turned around. "Fuck this shit."
Music is already blaring out of the house, people moving in and out in waves. Even the front lawn is packed.

“Oh come oooon.” Kirishima bolts around, swift basketball reflexes kicking in so that he comes to stand in Bakugou’s way.
“Stick by me, I’ll get you a drink and then you can bounce if you want but you already got all the way here. The booze is just feet away!”

The redhead sticks out his bottom lip.
They barely know each other and Bakugou doesn’t seem like someone easily swayed by a puppy dog look but Kirishima does it anyway. He’ll do anything to keep the blond in his company at this point.
"You going to stop making that stupid fucking face if I do?" He glares, arms crossed.

“Absolutely! No more face. Please?”

He doesn’t give him a response, just sucks his teeth and heads back toward the house.
Deciding against a full out whoop of victory, Kirishima pumps a fist against his side before scurrying to catch up to the blond. As they reach the porch and the music grows louder, the redhead fields numerous cheers and compliments from acquaintances on the game.
And though he acknowledges everyone who greets him he never breaks away from Bakugou.

One of the guys they pass as they reach the door leans toward the girl he’s with to remark, “I can’t believe Kirishima brought that asshole with him.”
The basketball captain comes to a stop, turning to face the guy who’d spoken.

“I did!” The smile he offers is light but his gaze dares him to say something more. “Is there a problem with that, man?”

“Uh no. No problem, Kiri.”
“Cool.” Kirishima turns to step inside, adding over his shoulder, “Enjoy the party!”

Then they’re inside and the redhead tilts his head toward the kitchen, signalling Bakugou to follow.

“What’s your poison?”
"Hmph. I don't care." His hands burrow further into his pockets as he looks around. "Make it quick though. One drink and I'm out remember?" Someone bumps into him as they walk by and he growls at them. Frat parties are the antithesis of his kind of scene.
“Sure, sure.” Kirishima nudges forward to the counter and immediately grabs a red solo cup, filling it and holding it out to the blond. “Jungle juice for you it is. As for me, I have to follow tradition.”
He nods his head toward the kitchen table where the rest of the basketball team is crowded, Sero being the centre of their attention as he knocks back a shot with a grimace. “4!” they all shout and cheer.
Kirishima leans in to be heard over all the noise, giving an explanation. “Win or lose, after a game we all take shots for how many times we each personally scored.”
"That has to be the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard. But whatever. Fucking kill yourself I guess." He snatches the cup and takes a swig, the sting of the alcohol immediately causes his cheeks to tint.
Kirishima snorts. “One I’m not as stupid as I look. Two, not all of the team drinks so the shots can be whatever we want them to be and three—it’s for the shots we made not the point value. I scored 8 baskets and 1 free throw. I alternate one shot of vodka and one shot of water.”
Beckoning Bakugou to follow, he steps up to the table just as Sero fills a shot for him. “Red Rioooot!”
He takes the shot from his friend and turns to Bakugou to tap his small glass against the solo cup. With a wicked smirk he tosses the shot back and swallows hard before turning back to the table to the call of “ONE!”
The blond rolls his eyes and starts to walk away as Sero is distracting Kirishima with another shot. He downs his drink in one fell swoop and places the cup on the nearest table.
Unfortunately he doesn't make it far before he’s stopped by a girl in a mini black dress that clearly pregamed before showing up.

"I've never seen you at one of these parties before." She reaches out to play with the string on his hoodie. "I'd remember a hot scowl like that."
With a giggle she adds, "Why are you wearing this giant thing anyway? If you're hanging with Kirishima you're bound to be built under this thing." As she goes to press herself closer Bakugou tenses, vitriol at the ready.

"Hands off. Go throw yourself at someone else."
"So fiery." She smiles wide. "I like that."

Kirishima finishes his fourth shot when he spots what predicament Bakugou has gotten himself into. It irks him more than he thought it would, seeing someone else invade the blond’s space, heavy eyed and aggressively coming onto him.
He snatches up the next shot they pour him and sidles up to Bakugou, resting an elbow at the blond’s shoulder. “Sorry gorgeous but I need my drinking buddy undistracted. I can’t beat him shot for shot fair and square if you dazzle him away.”
The girl pouts even as she steps back. “No fair Kiri. You always keep the hot ones to yourself.”

Giving the girl a wink, the redhead shoves the shot glass into Bakugou’s hand as he turns them away. “How many shots you think you can handle anyway, huh?”
Thanking Kirishima for chasing off the girl is on the tip of his tongue but instead he snaps, "More than you asshole." He grabs the shot glass, knocks it back, and shoves the empty glass against the redhead's chest.
“Oh really?” Kirishima grins, warm and loose. “I’m already four in. You’ve had jungle juice and one shot so we can say you’re at—three. I’m officially in the lead here.”
He takes hold of the empty shot glass and moves toward the counter to grab a bottle of vodka, leaving the basketball guys who have already moved on to mingling with the rest of the partygoers.
“One more for the road and we’ll be tied.”

"Fucking pour it already shitty hair. Let's go! Chop chop!"
A good natured laugh falls from Kirishima’s lips as he uncaps the bottle and pours. Then he reaches into the cabinet to bring down another which he fills and passes off to Bakugou.
“You first then we can both do number five.”

A second later the glass slams onto the counter empty. "There. Tied." God he hates vodka. He can already feel the tingles moving through his chest.
Filling the shot glass promptly, Kirishima holds it back out to the blond with his own held at his chest. “Alright! Onto the fifth!”

He waits till Bakugou has his glass in hand then tosses his own shot back. His lips glisten as he sets the shot glass down. “Damn I’m feelin’ it!”
"Probably didn’t eat anything did you?" He finished his shot and put the glass down. "Dumbass. It absorbs quicker that way. Nothing in your stomach to slow it down."
“I ate plenty,” he retorts. It’s not a lie. The team carb loads two hours before a game to keep their stamina up throughout the game. “It’s your fault.” Kirishima jabs a finger at Bakugou.
"How is it my fault? You fucking challenged me!" He pours the next shot himself. "So drink up bitch." Without further prompting he downs the shot. Immediate regret.
Bakugou can feel the heat and the heaviness hit like a truck after the last shot. Has he mentioned how much he hates vodka? He’s only going to be able to handle 2 or 3 more safely.
Kirishima takes the shot, feeling the burn at the back of his throat. His eyes remain glued to Bakugou though, watching him gulp his shot, the damp sheen on his lips.
The warm flush of his skin as the alcohol works it’s dangerous magic. He’s gorgeous. And still here at the party, despite his whining.

Just then, the song playing in the house changes and Kirishima cheers. “I love this song!”
He sways his hips to the beat as he sets down his shot glass and picks up a bottle of beer instead, mouthing the lyrics before popping the cap and taking a swig. “I’m all shot up for the night,” he explains with a little bow. “You win this time. But it’s still—your fault.”
That earns a growl from him, the delight of winning lost on him. "How is it my fault, fuckface?!"
"Empty hands are not allowed in MY HOUSE!" Sero shoves an open beer into Bakugou's hand as he passes; giving Kirishima a wink before turning to greet someone and sinking into the crowd.
Kirishima laughs. Or is it a giggle? Not that he cares. “Your fault because I’m drunk on you as much as the liquor. Don’t think you understand how potent you are, Ba-ku-gou!”
He takes another swig off his beer, licking his lips and still gyrating his hips in place as the song continues for a minute more. He watches the blond as he does, thinking to himself how disappointing it is not to be able to admire the muscles he knows are beneath that hoodie.
"Do you even hear yourself?" Why’s he blushing again? It has to be the liquor. "You're a fucking lightweight." He takes a swig off the beer and looks off to the side; unable to stand how bright Kirishima’s smile is.
“A lightweight on you, maybe,” Kirishima banters back. “But that just means I need to build up my tolerance.”
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The redhead finally recognises the fact that they’ve stayed in the kitchen the entire time they’ve been in the house and that’s just not going to fly. “Yo! You need a tour of my place!”
He doesn’t wait for a response. Kirishima takes hold of the blond’s hoodie sleeve and tugs at him as he manoeuvres through the sea of guests, calling out the spaces as they go:
“Den! — that’s a bathroom. Stairs! The hallway! Sero’s room. Ojiro and Aoyama there. Shinsou’s room—it’s a disaster zone.”
"Okay okay! Got it. You live here. I don't need the fucking tour!" A few feet back Bakugou had wiggled his way out of his hoodie so he could stop being dragged around. Currently Kiri holds onto an empty garment, leaving Bakugou standing there in a tank top covered in tiny skulls.
Kirishima stops in the middle of the hall, blinking at the very empty hoodie he now possesses. The music thrums mutely from up here. With a shrug, the redhead pulls the hoodie on, enjoying the way it envelopes him and smells like Bakugou.
“Those arms,” Kirishima comments as he rakes his eyes over the blond. “I think I’ll wear this tonight just so those guns can stay out on display, please and thank you.”
Bakugou can’t stop the laugh that leaves him. It’s just a single forced exhale but it’s a laugh nonetheless. The small smile that comes with it is undeniable. "You are a fucking idiot..."
“If you’re the one saying so, then I’m totally a fucking idiot.” Kirishima sticks out his tongue, swaying on his feet, before adding, “An idiot who definitely rocks this hoodie better than you ever could.”
"Highly inaccurate. If I looked so bad in it why couldn't you keep your eyes off me, hm?" If this is how Kirishimia wants to play he can definitely play this game. He takes a long swig off his beer to finish it before setting it on the hallway floor.
“Trying to figure out why you’d hide your bod under this dumb thing.” Kirishima sighs. “Even if it’s stupidly comfy and warm and smells nice.”

They stand in the second floor hallway only a few feet apart.
Kirishima steps forward as he twists and turns to admire the hoodie on himself. “’M gunna have to hold onto this for safe keeping.”

"Its just a fucking hoodie. Not like it's something important. Fuck off about it already." There it is again. That warmth along his face and chest.
“Make me!” the redhead taunts with a smirk.

"What are you? A fucking child?" He takes a step closer.

“Drunk college jock—close enough.”
Kirishima’s smirk grows into a grin as he continues, “And I really like this hoodie so I don’t feel like shutting up. Smells like you, which is really nice by the way, and I was just thinking I should get one just like it!—”
Bakugou feels something snap in him, forcing his feet forward to close the gap between them. "You talk too fucking much." His hands shoot up to grab Kirishima by the collar of the hoodie, pulling him down to his level so he can crush their lips together.
“Mmgh.” The rest of the redhead’s words are swallowed up by Bakugou’s mouth on his. All thoughts grind to a halt as Kirishima kisses back, his free hand curling into the front of the blond’s tank top.
He tastes of beer and vodka and heat. Delicious warmth and aggressively soft lips.

Kissing Bakugou is just like his personality—rough and abrasive. Teeth tug harshly at Kirishima's bottom lip, canines digging into the meaty flesh before being soothed over by his tongue.
The bite pulls a moan out of Kirishima. Mouth pressing hard to meet the blond’s force with his own. The hand at his chest slides up to press into the back of Bakugou’s neck, desperate to bring them closer, keep him there as they devour each other’s lips.
After a few more moments of very heated kissing he reaches up to grab a handful of Kirishima's hair by the root. With a yank, he pulls them apart to trail his lips along the other man's jawline as he speaks. "Give me back my fucking hoodie."
Kirishima’s breath escapes him in a gasping moan as his hair is pulled, sending pleasurable sparks down his spine. Every spot Bakugou’s lips touch burns as he moves on.

“Rather not,” he responds.
When Bakugou’s lips reach his ear he tugs on the lobe rather harshly. "I'm just going to have to take it off you then."

A gasp, a moan, a deep chuckle all leave Kirishima in quick succession. His body thrums, hot with arousal and alcohol.
The damn beer bottle still in his one hand dangles precariously from fingers itching to grab the blond instead and Kirishima debates just dropping it. Wouldn’t be the first time the upstairs hallway suffers a spill.
The hand at Bakugou’s neck shifts, burying itself in soft strands and giving a sharp pull until dark eyes meet fiery ones. “Go ahead and try.”

A growl leaves him moments before teeth meet lips once more.
Bakugou shoves the redhead hard against the nearest wall without breaking the kiss, hands shoving under the hoodie to splay over his abs.
The beer bottle slips from Kirishima’s hand as he’s backed into the wall and he can’t give two flying fucks. Bakugou’s assault tastes better than any drink ever could and the redhead gives as good as he gets.
Snagging the blond’s bottom lip between his own teeth, one hand gripping his hair as the other now free, grips Bakugou’s side in an effort to pull them together, slotting hips and thighs together like puzzle pieces.
The moan that leaves the blond comes easily. Kirishima’s absolutely overwhelming but in the best way. He can’t think past the firmness of his muscles and those big hands. "You gonna keep me in a hallway all night, dipshit, or you gonna show your room?"
“I thought someone didn’t want a tour.” Kirishima smirks before nodding toward the last door at the end of the hall. “M’room’s that one.”

He absently wonders if there’s anything he should have hidden but Kirishima’s actually adverse to messes. Plus he’s a pretty open book.
Pushing off the wall, Kirishima backs Bakugou up, swooping in for a rushed kiss before sadly parting to reach his door.

The moment they clear the room Bakugou pushes Kirishima onto the bed and promptly straddles him. His hands slide back under the hoodie;
skin meeting skin as he leans down the nip along his neck.

Already half hard, Bakugou’s actions fuel the fire beneath Kirishima’s skin. His own hands immediately take hold of the blond’s hips, slipping beneath the hem of the tank top to massage the too warm skin.
The redhead arches his neck, offering himself up to the attention.

"Mmm good boy." He growls as Kirishima exposes more of his throat for him. His teeth sink into the spot his neck connects to his shoulder as his hips make their first experimental grind.
Kirishima lets out a gasping moan the moment Bakugou grinds down against him mid-bite. Sparks fly from head to toes and he doesn’t give a shit if there’s marks in the morning.

God he hopes there are; proof that this is actually happening.
Kirishima rolls his hips upward, grinding back against the blond. His pants are becoming tighter and tighter against his rapidly hardening cock trapped beneath the layers.
"Look at you...barely touched you and you're already a mess." Bakugou chuckles as he sits up, hands pressed against Kirishima's bare chest after pushing up the offending fabric of his shirt under his arms.
"Don't tell me your one of those fuckers that comes after two tugs." He begins to roll his hips, a soft pant leaving him.
Kirishima’s fingers dig into the small of Bakugou’s back, urging him to keep moving. His grin is devilish as he looks up at the blond, back arching as he rolls to meet the hips of the hot, angry, insulting body atop him. “Just gluttonous for everything you can dish out, babe.”
He growls at the pet name. "Did I say you could talk? I hate the sound of your fucking voice." It does things to him. Especially the deep timbre it holds right now. It has heat pooling deep in his belly.
Kirishima can’t help the lustful chuckle that rumbles up from him, licking his lips. His pulse throbs, heart racing, arousal ricocheting across his nerves. He can’t remember the last time a man has made him this excited, this wound up.
Everyone else is dull, basic, vanilla compared to the primed grenade that Bakugou is.
“And I hate that you’re still wearing this top but I guess we can’t all win,” he retorts, a challenge in his gaze. All the while his hips never stop moving.
"Then why don’t you do something about it instead of laying there like some submissive bitch." He tried his best to keep his voice calm, stern, but he feels himself wavering. Fuck, he’s so turned on right now and feeling how hard Kirishima is against him only makes it worse.
That’s all Kirishima needs to hear. His hands take hold of the offending top and tug it up as far as he can, pouting when he can’t remove it entirely on his own. “Off.” His voice drops lower, affected by the sight of Bakugou’s bare chest being exposed.
The blond finishes pulling it off and then unceremoniously throws it behind him. With a rough grunt he pushes Kirishimia shirt and his own hoodie more persistently up under his arms again, wanting them off as well.
Kirishima lifts up from the bed enough to allow the layers to come free and fall where they may. As soon as they’re gone from Bakugou’s hands, Kirishima reaches out to grip the back of the blond’s neck and pulls him down so that he can take that dirty mouth against his own.
Teeth clack and the redhead revels in it.

Bakugou kisses him with renewed vigor, hips matching the pace set by his lips.
When he pulls back to breathe he starts talking again, "So what's it going to take for me to get that cock out of your pants? It's only been digging into my fucking ass for the past 10 minutes."
“You have hands and you’re the one sitting on my waist—where my /fly/ is,” Kirishima snaps back with a grin, adding flippantly, “Oh and a please and thank you wouldn’t hurt either.”
"You'll get a please when I'm fucking dead." He smacks Kirishima's hand away as he scoots back enough that he can unbutton the man's pants. There is literally no time wasted as he unzips and yanks down his jeans enough that he can get to his prize.
His hand squeezes at the bulge in front of him; preening as he notices the rather large damp spot.

Kirishima is eating up every word, every touch, every insult. Bakugo is unrelenting fire and he is happy to burn at the stake.
The moment the blond palms his erection through his boxers, Kirishima moans, hips canting into the hand at his groin. It’s the sweetest torture and he feels he’ll go mad with how badly he wants Bakugou every way imaginable.
The blond doesn't waste much time teasing. He pulls down his boxers, tucking the band under his balls before wrapping his fingers around him and stroking firmly. "At least this part of you isn't disappointing."
His thumb presses at the slit along the head of his arousal, swirling around pre as he speaks before going back to stroking.

“Complimenting my cock,” Kirishima sucks in a breath as he’s taken in hand and stroked by a sure hand. “Thank you.”
The redhead welcomes the warm grip of Bakugou’s hand, biting at his lip as he makes damn sure he takes in the sight of the blond, flushed and equally aroused with Kirishima’s erection twitching against his palm.
"Quit staring!" Bakugou takes his free hand and presses it against the other man’s face, pushing it against the pillow under his head. He’s completely red at this point, his blush spreading down his chest.
“Aw but watching is a turn on for me,” Kirishima insists against the pillow. “Especially if it’s watching you, Ba-ku-gou.”

"Shut up. When you say my name like that it sounds stupid."
He backs up even more until his body is situated between Kirishima's knees. His lips begin to trail along the redhead's abs as he continues to talk, "You keep that fucking mouth shut and maybe I'll reward you."
That sort of promise finally gets Kirishima to nod in agreement. He has no intention of fucking up a chance at a reward with the hot blond settled between his legs like this.

If only he could /see it/.
Bakugou’s kisses continue south until he’s face to face with his cock. Normally this is where his panic would set in but the vodka has settled heavy in his veins at this point and he couldn’t care less.
Slowly he runs his tongue from the base of his cock up to the head, pressing it flat against the glans.

The drag of Bakugou’s slick tongue draws a similarly slow groan out of Kirishima. His hands scramble over his own chest, pinching at a nipple and willing his hips not to move.
Not good enough. One of his hands shoots up to grab Kirishima's wrist, dragging his hand down to place it on top of his head. Once the hand’s in place he takes the tip of his cock between his lips, rolling his tongue over it.
A loud gasp escapes the redhead. The heat of Bakugou’s mouth envelopes him in pleasure, tendrils of heat that spiral out from his groin. The hand directed onto the blond’s head buries into the golden strands as his hips twitch up just the slightest bit. “Fuck, yes.”
A moan leaves Bakugou at the feeling of fingers pressing against his scalp. It's encouraging. He presses down, fitting as much as he can comfortably into his mouth before drawing back up and repeating the process; his hand twisting and stroking what he couldn't fit.
Moaning, Kirishima runs both his hands through the blond’s hair as his hips squirm and his breath leaves him in heavy pants.
Bakugou takes a deep breath through his nose and pushes all the way down, ignoring the burn as the head of the other man’s cock hits the back of his throat. One. Two. Three swallows is all he manages to achieve before he felt his gag reflex starting to kick in.
The last thing he needs is to dry heave with his face in someone's lap.

Kirishima isn’t expecting being /deepthroated/.

His head strains back against the pillow, hands digging hard into the blond’s scalp.
His head swims with the hot rush of arousal and alcohol in his veins. The sound that comes out of him is a growl and a cry. “Oh god fuck—yes, /Kacchan/.”
Bakugou's eyes snap open and he immediately pulls off of him. “The /fuck/ did you just call me?" The tone of his voice is different than before.

This time it held true anger.
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The wet heat of a mouth around his cock vanishes with a swiftness, leaving Kirishima reeling. But the snap in Bakugou’s voice makes him blink away the dredges to review what he’d just said. And then all colour drains from his face. “Oh shit. Hey, that—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to.”
"Where the fuck did you here that name?!" He’s shouting at this point, panic running through him. It is clearly written on his face as he pushes himself off the bed.
Kirishima shakes his head, entirely derailed and uncertain how to proceed here. “It was an accident and I shouldn’t have assumed anything but I’m friends with the one person who apparently knew you in grade school.”
The moment it’s out of his mouth Kirishima regrets it. Now he’s put a target on Midoriya’s back. “I have no idea what the name means. Midoriya just said it when I asked about you and I didn’t think anything of it.”
"You will /not/ say a fucking word about this to that fucking loser do you hear me? I swear to god I will fucking kill you if you even breathe my name to him!" Bakugou grabs his tank top and yanks it back on. "I can't fucking believe this." He makes a beeline for the door.
“What the hell!” Kirishima shimmies back into his boxers and pants, arousal damned away, and attempts to catch the blond back. “What is up between you and Midoriya, man?”

What was once seemingly simple—win Bakugou over—is now some tangled knot of thorns.
Kirishima: inserting foot in mouth instead of keeping his dick in Bakugou’s.
"None of your goddamn business." He pauses, "But I mean apparently you're friends so go fucking ask him. Sure he'll be super enthused to tell. Maybe he'll even cry to try and get bonus sympathy points."
“Not fucking cool, man.” Kirishima moves in closer as he asks, “What if I wanna hear it from you?”

"Like I said...none of your goddamn business. You're not my friend. Got it?" Opening the bedroom door, Bakugou starts toward the stairs.
He doesn’t feel all that drunk anymore and has half a mind to get back to that state if only to distance himself from this madness he’s tripped and fallen face first into.

The redhead moves into his open doorway as Bakugou steps into the hall and makes his exit for the night.
Instinctively, Kirishima knows the best thing for them both is to not chase after him now.

Instead, he heaves a sigh, leaning against the door jam to watch Bakugou walk away. “Goodnight, Bakugou,” he calls.
It takes all of the blond's willpower not to yell something back. He just ignores him as he makes his way down the stairs. When he finally gets back to the dorms he immediately heads for the showers; scrubbing his skin until it's pink as if trying to remove the entire encounter.
Afterwards he plops down in his bed sighing.

"Bakugou?" The tired voice of his roommate pops up. "You okay man?"

"Yeah...it's whatever. Just been drinking," he grumbles into his pillow.

"Alright. If you're going to get sick don't do it in here."
"I'm not going to get fucking sick!" he snaps.

His only reply is sleepy chuckling.

As Bakugou lays there trying to shut off his brain he realizes something—he left his hoodie. /Fuck me.../
Back at the frat party, Kirishima ducks back into his room once the blond head disappears down the stairs, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it with eyes closed. It had been going better than he’d hoped and then it crashed down on him. All because of a stupid name.
When the redhead finally opens his eyes, his gaze lands on the hoodie that had been instrumental in getting Bakugou into his bed in the first place. The blond had been too furious to remember it.
Kirishima never returns to the party. Sero knocks to check on him at some point and he assures his friend that he’s fine. He’s staring at the hoodie now resting on the back of his desk chair when he finally succumbs to sleep some time in the early morning.
📚📚📚📚
Upcoming CW: referencing internalised homophobia, mentions of past bullying, frat boy Kiri isn’t all sunshine whoops

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Kirishima feels less than his best the next day. It’s Sunday and he briefly considers staying isolated in his room to nurse the small hangover clouding his head.
Spend that time replaying the monumental fuck up he made of himself the previous night. But he knows it won’t do him much good in the long run. Wallowing never solves anything.
Aftering chugging down a bottle of water from his bedroom mini-fridge, Kirishima dresses and heads out to Plus Ultra cafe. Caffeine and possibly company will help.
Midoriya perks up when he sees Kirishima walk in; the rest of the squad already gathered around a table. "Hey, Kiri!" He stands up and waves to get his attention. They have a seat saved for him.
Kirishima lifts a hand in greeting with a small smile on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He makes his way over to the table where his friends are congregated and does his best to appear his usual upbeat self. “What’s up guys!”
"Ignoring homework," Uraraka laughs.

"Yeah...accurate." Midoriya smiles widely but it quickly fades when he notices Kirishima isn’t acting right. "You okay?"

Damn Midoriya and his observant self. Kirishima shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Sure. Just had a rough night. The party didn’t go the way I’d expected.”

The redhead settles into the seat saved for him and shrugs off his army green parka but keeps his grey scarf on. For once in his life he doesn’t want to show off the marks that had blossomed on his neck.
"Sero said that you an-" Kaminari stops himself before he goes any further. All of a sudden his muffin is very interesting.

"Whaaaa? Spill!" Uraraka smiles wide. "Who was he?"

“Sero has a bigger mouth than me!” Kirishima whines and drops his head to the table.
Kaminari tugs lightly at the scarf and adds, “Bet you’re getting really warm under there, man.”

“Nooo, I’m freezing. Honest.”

Just then, Tsuyu scurries in, genuinely freezing. They all know how poorly she handles the cold and the look on Kaminari’s face says it all.
So Kirishima slowly unwinds his scarf and hands it off to the slender girl now huddling against Uraraka and sits back refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

"Oh my god!" Uraraka gasps. "Were you mauled?"
Kaminari lets out a genuine belly laugh. "Bro you look like someone tried to rip out your throat."

"Does that hurt? I might be able to help,” Midoriya offers softly.

It would be far more amusing if not for knowing how unsuccessfully the rest of the night had panned out.
“No, it doesn’t hurt. Not really.” Kirishima sighs and rubs at the spots. “Suppose I was mauled kinda.”

"Hello hello!" A pop of pink hair shows up just in time to save Kirishima from the conversation. Mina holds a tray containing a single mug on it and a slice of chocolate cake.
"Haven't seen y’all in awhile."

"Cause you're never here!" Kaminari pipes up. "Who are the goodies for?"

"A baby." She smirks. "One of my friends is here and he is super down today so Aunty Mina is gonna save the day. Like always."
“I’m super down and want cake. Where’s my Aunty Mina?” Kirishima says with a frown. “Any of us a mad scientist major? I could use a clone of Mina pronto.”

She chuckles, giving him a friendly nudge. "I'll see what I can do." With that she walks away.
The redhead leans back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling without thinking about the marks littering his skin. “How was everyone else’s night?”

Kaminari starts hitting Kirishima's arm while Uraraka talks about their night playing games with Momo and Jirou. "Guys look..."
Mina walks over to one of the corner booths and surprisingly Bakugou is sitting there. Glasses, laptop, but sans hoodie. She sits the items down in front of him.
It looks like he’s going to start arguing but she reaches down and cups his cheek before leaning down press a kiss to his forehead. The fiery blond just slouches and starts grumbling at her. With a giggle, Mina ruffles his hair before turning and heading back to counter.
When Kirishima turns to see what Kaminari’s referring to, he really wishes he hadn’t. His stomach does weird things at the sight of Bakugou and worse still, seeing Mina’s affectionate concern for him and how he lets her do it makes him want to throw a fit.
He’s being childish, he knows it. But he doesn’t get bothered often over things so when it does happen, he takes it poorly.

He wants to be the one who has a bond with Bakugou like that. Maybe, /maybe/, Mina could teach him how she did it. Clearly his first attempt really bombed.
When he turns back to the table, he unintentionally locks eyes with Midoriya for a moment, his frown genuine on his face before he can make it vanish. He drops his forehead to the table again to cover it up but he knows his green-eyed friend won’t be so easily dissuaded.
"Oh no." Midoriya looks at the time on his laptop and feigns a very convincing sense of surprise. "I didn't realize how late it was. I have to move some stuff to the EMS building. Kiri could you help?" He stands from his seat to begin packing up his things.
“Mm, yeah I suppose I can.” Kirishima stands to his feet, pulling his parka off the back of his chair and tossing it on, throwing the hood up to block passing eyes from the marks. Tsuyu starts to remove the scarf and return it but he waves her off. “Hang onto it. I’ll be fine.”
Kirishima inhales the chill air as he steps out of Plus Ultra. He prefers the summer but there’s something magical about the beginning of winter. Even when his situation is anything but.
"So you want to talk about it?" Midoriya asks as soon as the door closes behind him. "I'm assuming the sour mood has to do with Kacchan. I warned you he would blow you off. I just...I wish you wouldn't have jumped to someone else like that Kiri. You deserve better than that."
“Jumped to—what?” Kirishima blinks before he pieces it together and then he laughs, slightly bitter and equally amused. It’s definitely not a laugh normal to him and he settles himself quickly as he weighs the options before him.
Be entirely honest about what happened or hedge it in order to safeguard any chance he has at returning to Bakugou’s at least neutral graces. There’s no harm in letting his friend think he got the smattering of hickies from someone else.
“Midoriya—what exactly happened between you two? What’s the meaning of the name you call him?”

It feels like a bad omen to repeat it now so he steadfastly avoids saying it himself.
Midoriya starts to walk, knowing Kiri will follow. "We became friends in daycare. I couldn't say his first or last name. Kacchan is what came out and it stuck. As far as what happened? I came out to him freshman year of high school...
“...I figured it would be fine. He was my best friend, right? Regardless of being rough around the edges I could tell when his insults were real or not."
Midoriya sighs. "He lost it. He just froze at first. Staring at me. Then he went into this rage. Calling me slurs. Screaming at me that I had lied to him for years. He avoided me after that. When I tried to speak to him I’d get a black eye or a scrape from being pushed around."
Kirishima nods as he follows, frowning to hear of what happened between them. It...doesn’t fit with the very enthusiastic blond who called the shots grinding against him last night. But things change between freshman year of high school and their junior year of college.
“I used that name when I spoke to him last night at the house party.”

"And he found out you're my friend...I'm so sorry Kiri." He looks down at the ground as he stops walking. "I messed it all up for you." His voice sounds so broken. "I-I'm so sorry..."
“Yo! Hey don’t even.” Kirishima’s own mood backpedals hard hearing Midoriya sink into his own mire. “I was too drunk. I knew it wasn’t a name for me to use. I don’t know him like that. Wasn’t my place. But alcohol makes everyone a little—or /way/ stupider than usual.”
The redhead turns to face the shorter of the two and nudges him until Midoriya looks at him. “Seriously, Midoriya. You didn’t mess anything up. I fucked it up royally all on my own.”
There were tears in the corners of his eyes. "But he was going to explode on you when he eventually found out we were friends. We wouldn't have been able to hide it forever."
Bakugou had been completely right in his assessment of Midoriya's reaction to Kirishima asking him about their history. Accurate except for one fact—he doesn’t cry for sympathy or attention; it’s truly out of sadness.
“Midoriya, who is most frequently at Plus Ultra with me other than Kaminari? Hell you were there when I invited him to the basketball game.” Kirishima shakes his head.
“I’m not hiding anything or anyone in life, man. Bakugou’s just gunna figure out how to live with that because I’m not giving up. I just stepped in it big time last night and I need to give him some space.”

/And myself too/, he reminds himself.
They walk in a silence for a few more minutes before Midoriya asks, "Does he know about you? Like...that you're gay?"

“Considering he’s so smart I’m sure my flirting was picked up on.” Loud and clear. “He just told me to stop staring or that I sounded stupid.”
"Sounds like he's changed a bit at least." Midoriya gives him a warm smile.
“Hey I’m gunna go hit the gym. Clear my head a bit. But I’ll text you later alright?” Kirishima turns toward the path leading to the gym and when he smiles this time, it’s gained back its usual energy. “Don’t worry about me and my Bakugou thing. Just enjoy this chilly Sunday.”
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