"Okay, but what if we /did/ kiss, bro?" Kirishima asks, his body leaning forward, crowding into Bakugou's space. With a huff, Bakugou shifts on the bed until his back is pressed against the dorm room wall and is what he deems a safer distance. Breathing room, he calls it.

Because when Kirishima gets close like that, his eyes wide and shimmery as they peer into Bakugou's, breathing gets difficult. For him at least. Kirishima, the bastard, seems perfectly fine.

It's infuriating.

"We've been over this." And they have been. Round and round they've went, Kirishima playing a chaotic chord on his heartstrings, plucking at them wildly, as if hoping for a different sound, a different outcome in which Bakugou might actually say yes.

He doesn't though.

Bakugou can't afford to cave, as painful as it to deny what his heart is crying out for. Screaming for some nights, nights like this when Kirishima is sitting painfully close, asking without hesitation for just a single kiss.

Kissing Kirishima, is too high a cost.

Kissing Kirishima is far too fucking valuable to lose and Bakugou isn't willing to take that risk.

"Yeah," Kirishima agrees, his eyebrows raising as he rolls his eyes. "I know."

And Kirishima does know why Bakugou is so scared. He's scared too. Terrified, really. But that isn't enough to stop him, that isn't enough to get him to stop pushing and inching closer and hoping with all his heart that Bakugou would see that some things are worth it.

That they are worth it.

That he is worth the risk and the fear and nerves and all those other feelings that make even his belly drop at the thought of this, whatever /this/ is between them, going away.

What they have is great, more than great, but Kirishima wants more. Craves it and dreams of it most nights. Bakugou's fingers in his hair, Kirishima's hands touching soft skin and lips on lips, over and over until the suns sets and the moon rises. Days and nights blurring.

He wants it and he knows Bakugou wants it too. He can tell by the way Bakugou's breath hitches in his throat when he leans into him, can see it in the way Bakugou's fingers tremble when their shoulders brush. He can feel it in the way Bakugou looks at him. Always looking at him.

"So you know why we can't," Bakugou counters, pointedly looking anywhere that isn't Kirishima.

The denial is too much, for both of them honestly. Kirishima is ready to sink or swim and he's going to shove Bakugou into the water even if it kills him.

"I know why /you/ think we can't, but I'm going to tell you again why /I/ think we should."

Kirishima's eyes dart to Bakugou's Adams apple which moves at he swallows, sucking in a shaky breath before looking back at Kirishima hesitantly.

There's that look again. The one that is begging Kirishima to back off, but either Kirishima is blind or cruel because he's suddenly on his knees, crawling over until he's hovering above Bakugou, his arm shooting out to brace himself on the wall on the side of Bakugou's head.

He's so close this way, their knees are touching and his face is just inches away. Bakugou, in a panic moves to shove him away but Kirishima captures the hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth.

Bakugou can feel his breath ghosting his palm. He shivers.

Gently, Kirishima kisses his hand, his eyes never leaving Bakugou's.

A sound fills the room and it takes Bakugou a second to realize it's him who made it. Whine. A pleading noise forcing it way through his throat. It's pitiful how one touch of lips has him reduced to this. He hates it but god, does he want to feel it again.

He's helpless, even his own words aren't of any use right now seeing how he can't remember how to form them.

"We should because I love you Katsuki," Kirishima says softly, kissing Bakugou's palm again.

"We should because I know you love me too." Instead of a kiss, Kirishima takes Bakugou's hand and sets it against his chest. Under his fingertips, Bakugou and distinctly feel the steady beating of Kirishima's heart.

He does love him.

"Say it, if you don't." Kirishima challenges. "Tell me you don't love me."

He can't. It would be a lie.

Bakugou can only stare at him, his own heart thumping wildly.

"Exactly. We're in love. And I don't know about you but I plan to stay that way. What about you, huh? Do you plan on not being on love with me?"

Everyone accuses Bakugou of being brash and bold but compared to Kirishima he's mild and meek.

It's disgusting.

And maybe it's the idea of being made to feel weak that has Bakugou suddenly grit his teeth. "Of course I don't plan on my feelings changing you fucking idiot," he snaps. "But shit happens and people break up. Do you want to break up?"

"We won't break up then," Kirishima says.

"And how do you know we won't? How can you guarantee that Eijiro?"

He can't, they both know it.

Bakugou's hand is still on his chest and Kirishima presses it harder against himself.

Inching closer, Kirishima stares into Bakugou's eyes. "You feel that?" He asks, answering Bakugou's question with a question. "It's yours Katsuki. For as long as you'll have it, I'm yours. You know that right? You've got to. So please, just /try/."

"I can't lose you," Bakugou admits, his voice cracking as he says it.

It's that fear of losing Kirishima, his best friend in the entire world that holds him back from ever reaching out. Of allowing himself to have more. To be together. Really together.

"Just try," Kirishima says again.

And Bakugou wants to. To try. He wants to lean forward and feel his mouth on Kirishima's skin. He wants to hold his hands and and sing to him sleep at night. He wants to wake up and see Kirishima first thing in the morning. He wants it so bad.

His eyes dart to Kirishima's lips and back up to his eyes. His eyes are pretty. It isn't fair. Fleetingly, he wishes Kirishima were ugly. Then maybe this would be easier. But frankly, even if Kirishima was the ugliest guy on Earth, Bakugou knows he'd still have fallen for him.

The bastard.

"You're really pushy," Bakugou says, but it comes out shaky. Kirishima smiles, and Bakugou's eyes dart back to his lips.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

He did.

He really did.

"Yeah," Bakugou agrees, defeated.

This is why Bakugou fought so hard against this. Tried his best to keep his distance, but Kirishima was as stubborn as he was. Maybe more so. And now Bakugou was weak and helpless against all these stupid feelings.

"It's settled then. We're doing this," Kirishima declared.

Without a chance to protest for what would be the millionth time, Kirishima closed the gap between them in one fell swoop and his lips were suddenly against Bakugou's.

A part of him knew he should shove Kirishima away, protect his heart and their friendship but he was too weak. Too tired from all the fighting and what ifs that plagued him.

So he kissed him back.

Taking his time, Bakugou carefully memorized the feel of Kirishima's lips and the taste of his tongue. Each brush of lips, sound of gasping into open mouths. His hands glided across tanned skin and into soft hair, noting each curve until he knew this body as much as his own.

The risk was still there, still looming overhead as both of them clung to each other in the darkening bedroom, chest to chest where Bakugou couldn't tell who's heartbeat belonged to who. But the what ifs were changing with each shared breath, each pull of lips.

What if they didn't break up? What if they could do this, be /this/ forever?

He'd never know if they didn't try.

So he'd try. For him, for Kirishima, for whatever it is they were now, he'd try.

Bakugou would try for as long as Kirishima would let him.

Because now that he had this, knew what Kirishima felt like in his hands, knew the way he tasted on his tongue, he'd take every risk in the world to make sure this never ended.