Anyway so Bakugou can't sleep, but he knows going to blow stuff up isn't going to help because he doesn't feel like getting into trouble right now and also it's not a....too much energy can't sleep, but more of a thinking too much can't sleep.

So he sneaks down to the pool.

And it's quiet and empty and when he turns the lights on the water is just so blue and clear and inviting. He jumps in, does a few laps, but overall just floats on his back looking up at the sky. Bakugou just feels the eater's edge dividing his skin, submerged and open air damp.

The night is cool. Just an hour later he's shivering, goosebumps breaking out across his skin, so he heads back up to the dorms to dry off and go back to bed, head empty and calm.

The next week he does it again. Just lays on the surface staring up at the stars. Weightless.

He's never been the type. Never cared to spend time looking up. He's not a dreamer like that. He looks ahead, face down, knowing where and what he needs to do.

Except now. Except he doesn't. Except no matter how much he plans or tries he still feels like he's being left behind.

When he goes for hikes, it's always during the days. He goes early in the morning so by noon he's looking down from the mountain like it's his perch. A king standing above his kingdom. Bigger and better than everyone else.

But in the pool he feels small. He feels other worldly.

It's not a bad feeling, he finds. The touch and not touch of water all at the same time. Existing quietly by himself, laying on the surface, staring up at a dark endless nothing.

In bed, Bakugou's restless. He overanalyzes his entire day and interactions. Right and wrong.

Good and bad. It keeps him awake. He tosses and turns. So he comes to the pool, he floats, he doesn't think. He's alone. It's...nice.

And then he's not alone. Kirishima catches him coming back one night, coming back from the bathrooms rubbing sleep from his eyes and wondering why Bakugou is swearing his swim suit.

For a second, Bakugou doesn't want to tell. He's selfish and secretive and bites his tongue.

But it's Kirishima. Kirishima doesn't count, because he counts that much.

So Bakugou wakes him one night. Drags him down to the pool, hushing him to keep quiet all the way down, and pushes him into the cool water of the school's pool.

And they float.

Any attempts at talking are met with a silent glare. Any splashing leads to a small spark of an explosion, still an attempt to be quiet, but powerful enough to get the point across.

And they float, finally, side by side, and quiet.

Kirishima doesn't get it.

He keeps looking over at Bakugou, watching as he just lays there on the water's surface with his gaze unturned from the cloudy night sky. He wants to ask why, but knows he'll only be met with aggravation again. So he's quiet. He turns his head up in search of what Bakugou sees.

And he feels.

He feels the chill of the air on wet skin. He feels his his hair fans out around his head, brushing at his face and neck. He can feel the barely there tension of his hand so close to Bakugou's in the water, can almost displace the water enough to grab, hold, have.

And then it's over. Bakugou sits up in the pool, breaking the spell, and Kirishima sputters with a splash in his attempt to copy.

They swim back to the edge of the pool, dry off, then walk back to the dorms, still silent.

Kirishima thinks a lot about still grabbing his hand.

They go back together. Bakugou invites him out again, not saying anything, but bringing him once more to the pool to do much the same. Float. Look. Silent.

And Bakugou always looks at the sky. Never turns away, which gives Kirishima the perfect opportunity to look at Bakugou.

He looks good in the half moon light. With the glow of the pool at his back and the allure of the soft light at the tip of his nose.

The creases at his forehead and eyes are all gone in these moments. The hard edge of his jaw softens. Kirishima still wants to hold his hand.

Their nights become every other and the moments become constant.

Kirishima looks at him in the pool. In the dorm. In class. He thinks about the glow and his star light blond hair and the glitter in his eyes when he's too excited.

He thinks about how far Bakugou will go, how much he will conjure, and how he can't wait to see it all happen; to cheer him on.

He thinks about holding his hand.

He thinks he might love him.

It goes like this for ages. Weeks. Months. Until the weather is too cold and the pool is covered up and emptied for the season. There's something in both of them that is disappointed by this.

Bakugou doesn't sleep well and Kirishima misses their time spent.

Until Bakugou is knocking at his window one night, tapping with a knuckle standing on his balcony until Kirishima comes to answer.

He has his blanket and spreads it out, says nothing as he lays down and makes enough room for Kirishima to come lay down with him.

He does.

It's more grounded like this. More real. Their shoulders touch on the small balcony with so little space and no water to keep the tension at bay.

Kirishima thinks he might explode, being this close.

Staring means he can count every strand of hair. He can see the little shadow of freckles. He can hear Bakugou's steady, calm, breathing. He can't help himself.

"I think I really like you," he says, half on accident, not realizing until the words tumble out.

Bakugou smiles. He huffs. Turns his head to look at something other then the sky for the first time. He looks at Kirishima.

"Idiot," he says, the word makes Kirishima's heart flutter. Finger tips touch his own. "I know. You make it so obvious."

Kirishima feels himself blush.

"What about you?" Somehow, he manages boldness. He spreads his fingers, letting Bakugou interlace their digits. "You like me?"

"Duh," he squeezes Kirishima's hand. Kirishima can feel Bakugou's heartbeat in his wrist. "I don't share this shit with anyone else."

Kirishima smiles, squeezes back. "Okay, cool," he turns his head to look up, confident he knows Bakugou is next to him, and now wants to understand why he loves the night sky so much. "Just checking."

Though, he doubts anything could ever be as beautiful as Bakugou is right now.