kirishima’s always been excited about, well, absolutely /everything/ that involved becoming a pro, no matter how small. that is, until he has to pick out his hero costume. and bakugou notices that, suddenly, kirishima doesn’t seem so excited anymore.

#kiribaku #transkiri

bakugou is an observant person. in fact, it’s one of the many things he really prides himself on, being able to detect things so easily in his surroundings and the people thereof. he likes to think he’s keenly perceptive, taking down mental notes of all the things he catches.

but then, he met kirishima.

and it felt like his entire belief system surrounding the whole concept of perception flew out of the damn window.

it knocked him off kilter, meeting someone so hopelessly spontaneous like that. just when bakugou thought he had finally figured out everything about him, something else would come up, adding to his list of missed observations. a list of missed perceptions.

he knew that kirishima preferred sunsets over sunrises and that his favorite color wasn’t really red, but black. he knew that he didn’t care much for spicy food but loved bakugou’s cooking so he pushed through and ate it anyways. he knew he hated wearing pants without pockets.

he knew he didn’t care that his food touched but hated crackers in his soup. he knew that he actually /tried/ to study, and had a weird obsession with gel pens. he knew that he had a blanket laying on the end of his bed that he had had since middle school. he knew he loved moths.

he knew he used strawberry shampoo and sometimes forgot to wash out his conditioner. he knew he loved collecting keychains and crimson riot posters. he knew he chewed on the ends of his pens in class and tapped his fingers on his desk when he was bored. he knew he hated english.

he knew that he absolutely adored those ugly ass crocs and bought way too many hero themed socks. he knew that when he was nervous, he’d hook a pointed tooth in the corner of his lip and fidget with the strap on his backpack. he knew he’d never try to purposely be rude, not ever.

he knew a lot of things. everything, maybe. everything and nothing all at once. because for each thing that bakugou knew about kirishima, there were two more that he didn’t.

and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t drive him a little crazy.

which is maybe the reason as to why bakugou got so agitated whenever he picked up on the fact that there was something very /very/ important that he didn’t know about the bubbly redhead. something.. bad, maybe?

he didn’t know, but it was starting to seem that way.

because now kirishima’s eyes weren’t lighting up as much during training and his swings were getting sloppier and he wasn’t as excited during their hero studies lesson and it was honestly just so /off putting/ to bakugou.

what the hell was kirishima hiding? and why was it a problem now? right after they just got the forms for hero uniforms, something the idiot should be excited for.

bakugou hated secrets in general, but secrets from kirishima felt like a direct stab right through his little shriveled up heart.

he needed to know what was going on and he needed to know /now/.

“oi, move over,” bakugou grumbled as he sat his food down on the lunch table with a clatter, nudging kirishima’s arm.

the redhead of course did as he was told, flashing his best friend a toothy smile as he scooted over to give him enough room. bakugou plopped down beside him.

katsuki started slowly picking at his food, taking in a few small bites here and there, grunting when asked a question, sending glares when jokes were pointed at him. he couldn’t seem to focus on much. well, not much other than kirishima.

the gods must’ve been against him, because katsuki was caught staring by none other than the redhead himself.

“uh, is there something on my face?” eijirou laughed nervously, hands flying up to wipe away at something that wasn’t there.

bakugou simply hummed.

eijirou felt off.

bakugou stood up, not having taken more than three bites from his food, and slid the remains over to kirishima.

“i’m heading back,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away from his table of friends.

normally, he milked lunch time as long as possible. it was a time when he could sit however close he wanted to eijirou. accidentally bump elbows as they ate, brush their knees against each other’s, nudge the other one’s shoes. but now, sitting there made him uncomfortable.

like he had some sort of itch that wouldn’t go away, a thorn in his side that had no way of getting out. and it was all because of the that was secret wedged between them. a secret that he was dying to know. and that feeling made guilt tie his stomach into sickly thick knots.

because if kirishima had /wanted/ him to know, then he would’ve told him. after all, bakugou knows how pissed off /he/ would be if someone insisted on him spilling his own guts out. it was wrong of him to want to force this one secret out of his best friend. selfish, even.

so he just kept his eyes trained forward as he walked out of the lunch room, knuckles nearly cracking under the force of his fists. god, he hated it. he hated that he was acting like this over it. it was probably just some dumb thing anyways.

but that’s just it.

eijirou’s happiness really wasn’t just some /dumb thing/ to him. for whatever fucking reason, eijirou’s happiness was a priority. at the top of the list. and now, something was getting in the way of that.

he had kind of expected it, the sound of clumsy footsteps chasing after him into the hall. it’s what he was banking on. katsuki sent a glance to the boy as he showed up at his side, quickly matching their strides and walking in step. a blonde eyebrow raised at him, questioning.

“you just waste all that fucking food?”

“wha- ah, no,” eijirou grinned, “i gave it to kami and sero!”

“mm,” bakugou nodded, and they fell into silence again as their uniform shoes tapped against the shiny hallway floor.

bakugou always hated the shitty color of this tile.

out of the corner of his eye, bakugou couldn’t help but notice the way kirishima’s gaze kept flickering over to him, an expression of question worrying the crease of his brow.

“got something to ask, shitty hair?”

eijirou’s steps faltered for a moment before he quickly recollected himself and fell back into step.

“you didn’t eat much,” kirishima noted quietly, as if he were afraid bakugou would bite his head off if he spoke any louder. “is something wrong, man?”

bakugou’s own feet came to a sudden halt as he turned his head towards eijirou, nearly making the latter bump into him as he tried to stop himself.

“i don’t know. /is/ something wrong, shitty hair?” bakugou leveled, gaze locked, voice low.

he wanted him to break already.

“uh, i don’t.. think so?” kirishima answered, an eyebrow quirking up as he swallowed. “you’ve been acting a little weird, bro. you sure you’re feeling alright?”

katsuki held his gaze for a moment, scanning his eyes, analyzing the swirl behind those pretty red irises. he huffed.

“yeah,” katsuki muttered, turning on his heel to resume his walk back to their classroom, “fuckin’ peachy.”

oh, he was pissed.

he wanted- no- he /needed/ to know what the hell was going on with his stupid hair for brains best friend.

was he in some sort of trouble? was someone giving him shit about something? were his grades slipping again? was he.. mad at bakugou?

no. no, that last one couldn’t be right. bakugou hadn’t done anything. well, not anything that wasn’t normal for him to do, that is. eijirou /couldn’t/ be mad at him. there was no way.

but the way he was keeping things from him was starting to make it feel that way.

katsuki internally groaned, scolding himself for even worrying about something so petty like this. it was stupid, honestly. there was no point in making himself go crazy. so, he decided to do something that he normally complained about.

he decided to make small talk.

“so,” katsuki started, clearing his throat. “did you finish filling out that shit for the hero costumes or whatever?”

and katsuki didn’t miss the way eijirou sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of that.

“ah, n-no,” eijirou pushed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck in a manner that could only be described as nervous. “you?”

bakugou sent him a curious glance, the gears in his brain starting to turn, trying to decipher this new information.

“‘course i did, dumbass,” bakugou scoffed, “you need help with yours or somethin’?”

kirishima was known to procrastinate, but not with things like this, things that involved his future as a hero. the fact he was pushing off something that was so big was odd to katsuki.

“no!” kirishima spat out, eyes wide. he immediately withdrew slightly when bakugou whipped his head around to look at him, caught off guard by his sudden brash tone.

“i mean, no thanks man. i got it covered. just want it to be perfect, ya know?” eijirou quickly corrected.

perfect my ass, katsuki thought.

alright, problem pinpointed. well, sort of. obviously, something was going on with this whole hero costume thing. just exactly what, katsuki didn’t know. but this definitely narrowed the playing field.

“alright, what the hell’s-“

katsuki’s question is cut off as the bell rings, signaling the start of a lesson soon. the previously vacant halls instantly fill, a slew of their classmates heading in the direction of their class.

“ah, class is starting. c’mon dude!”

before bakugou could even try to lunge forward to stop him, kirishima is already lost in the sea of students up ahead.

whatever, bakugou would just get to him later.

the next time katsuki gets a chance to talk to kirishima alone is during one of their study sessions. and at first it’s normal, kirishima whining about how hard it is and bakugou wacking him over the head in the hopes to knock some sense into him.

they’re winding down whenever katsuki watches ei, hand pressed to his forehead as he works through his practice problems, tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. and bakugou gets another chance to really observe him.

he looks.. tired. not the ‘i missed a few hours of sleep last night’ or the ‘i trained too hard yesterday’ type of tired. more like the ‘my brain is fried and i just need a break from life right now’ type of tired.

his muscles were all bunched up and his hands were a little more jittery as he scribbled across his paper. the skin beneath his eyes had darkened and his hair didn’t have as much gel in it as usual. and whether he realized it or not, a soft sigh kept on blowing past his lips.

bakugou reached forward and pulled the notebook out from under kirishima while he was still working, causing ei to shoot his head up.

“wait! i’m not done yet, bro! i just have a few more steps and-“

his sentence fell flat when katsuki reached over and gripped his shirt collar.

“what’s your problem?” bakugou asked, trying to make his tone soft but failing miserably.

“what?”

“something’s been up the past few days, ever since we got those shitty costume forms. now fucking spill it or i’ll kick your ass.”

“just leave me alone, man.”

“no! you’ve been acting weird and i don’t like it! you’re hiding shit from me and that fucking pisses me off. tell me what the fuck you’re trying to keep so secret!”

“dude, seriously, lay off,” kirishima shot back, trying to pull katsuki’s grip off his shirt.

“i’m /not/ gonna-“

“get the hell off me, bakugou!” eijirou shouted, shoving the blonde back so hard he fell out of his chair.

katsuki glared up at him, fighting every urge in his body not to blow his stupid ass up for doing what he just did. but he stopped when he saw the expression on ei’s face.

he’s pissed. eyes set low and jaw locked tight, muscles flexing on instinct. the tips of his fingers are hardened, something that happened when he lost control. fuck, bakugou had really messed up.

“thanks for the session, but i think i’ll do fine to study on my own,” eijirou mumbled, grabbing his notebooks and heading for the door.

“kirish-“

“goodnight, bakugou.”

and just like that, he slammed the door and left. leaving katsuki on the floor shocked and dumbfounded.

and bakugou stayed there for a while, not finding it in him to move.

not when he heard kiri blasting his music at full volume. or when he could hear him hammering on his punching bag. or the aggravated grunts and yells of frustration floating through the thin wall between them.

bakugou was never really one to feel guilty about things, but now he felt like he was drowning in a sea of culpability without a life vest. and the water was filling his lungs faster than he could think to stop it. or maybe that was just his tears.

fuck, he had really messed up.

kirishima sighed as he finally crashed onto his bed, sweaty and panting from going so hard on his punching bag after he got back into his room. which was now broken and busted in the floor. oops.

he didn’t know what the hell was /wrong/ with him. katsu- /bakugou/ was his best friend. he wouldn’t judge him for something like that!

...right?

deep down, kirishima knew he wouldn’t. katsuki just wasn’t that type of person. but he just couldn’t escape the simple what ifs. what if katsuki really /was/.. against it?

what if he was completely disgusted by people like kirishima? what if he thought it was gross and weird and wrong? what if he thought it was some sort of defect? what if he didn’t want to be friends with kiri anymore? what if he didn’t think kiri was a man anymore? what if-

kirishima jumped at the sound of pounding on his door that was barely loud enough to be heard over his music blaring. he didn’t plan on opening it at first, but guilt settled in his stomach at the thought of not answering whoever it was.

running a hand through his sweaty hair, he heaved himself out of bed and padded over to his dorm room door. but when he opened it, no one was there.

“ugh, dudes, this is not the night to be messing with me.”

he groaned quietly as he looked to either side of the hall, checking for anyone within the area. he didn’t find anything other than emptiness though, so he made to close the door.

a tiny box in the bottom of his vision made him pause, and he bent down to pick up the little taped up package.

he shook it next to his ear as he shut his door behind him, walking back over to his bed. there wasn’t a name on it, but it was pretty obvious who it was from based on the “kirishima” written messily in sharpie across the top of the box.

bakugou.

with a hardened finger, kirishima quickly slit the tape open as he plopped down on his mattress and couldn’t help the laugh that pushed past his lips at the contents.

it was bakugou’s notes, the lesson they had just been studying together. bakugou wouldn’t need them, he knew, so he had given them to kiri. bakugou was far too considerate, even if it was only done in secret.

the other object caught eijirou off guard a little bit, though. it was a copy of their hero costume forms, one that bakugou had filled out. except it wasn’t his own information on it, it was kirishima’s.

each blank held the info of what eijirou had told bakugou he had dreamed his costume to look like, but was far too scared to actually write on his own form. not only had bakugou paid attention to his ramblings, he paid attention enough to actually write it all down.

there was a sticky note stuck to the front of the form, and eijirou felt tears spring to his eyes as he read it.

“you better turn this fucking form in because i’m not listening to your whining about how much you hate your shitty costume later.”

yeah. very considerate.

kirishima felt a little better at that, his insecurities and fears pushed to the side as he got up and sat the form on top of his school bag so he wouldn’t forget.

he would make sure to thank katsuki tomorrow.

morning came and bakugou was waiting outside of his door to walk with him to class just like always. he didn’t mention the box or the form, kirishima knew he wouldn’t, but kirishima said thank you anyways.

“for what? i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

yeah, okay

kirishima smiled as he handed the form to aizawa, but also felt a little nervous. /more/ than a little nervous. okay he was absolutely terrified.

fuck, he should’ve changed his form.

he was fine with showing skin, really. well, any skin from below his sternum and down. but he just.. he couldn’t help it! his body wasn’t like other boys in his class. his body wasn’t built like theirs. his body wasn’t like them. /he/ wasn’t like them. he wasn’t born a-

“ei?”

kirishima snapped his eyes over to bakugou, who was standing next to his desk. it was a break between classes, they had time to kill. why did kirishima have to ruin that by overthinking?

“shitty hair, you’re shaking.”

eijirou shook his head and laughed, smiling up at bakugou as he tried to steady his breathing and swallow down the lump that was crawling up his throat.

“don’t worry, man. it’s nothing.”

“ei,” katsuki repeated, his frown deepening as he placed a hand on eijirou’s shoulder.

the touch made kirishima feel sick, and he flinched away from the warm hands of his best friend. his heart tore at the sight of katsuki’s hurt expression at his action, and he just turned his eyes away, not wanting to feel worse than he already did.

“class is starting soon, you should go sit down.”

“not until you tell me why you’re shaking.”

“kat, really, it’s /fine/.”

“it’s obviously not fucking fine. so /tell me./“

“dude, seriously. you’re causing a scene.”

“who fucking cares?”

“i do! go sit down!”

“what? you gonna make me? you gonna force me to go sit down? get out of your face? are you, shitty hair? because i don’t fucking think you have it in you to even-“

he stops talking when kirishima’s fist connects to his jaw, half hardened by his quirk.

if their other classmates weren’t paying attention before, they sure as hell were now. kirishima had hit bakugou so hard he had to stumble back and catch himself on a desk, hand slowly reaching up to the place the red head had decked him.

eijirou’s eyes went wide as he realized what he had done and he instantly calmed back down, reaching out to the blonde. “shit, i’m so sorry dude. i didn’t mean to do that, i just-“

“that all you got?” bakugou snapped at him, wiping away the blood at the corner of his lip.

“what?” kirishima asked breathlessly.

“you pissed? angry at whatever the fuck it is? alright, hit me again then. take it all fucking out, shitty hair. because i’m tired of that damn attitude! if you’re mad then take it out on me cause i’m sick and tired of it!”

“kat, wait i-“

“i /said/ take it out on me!” katsuki yelled as he lunged forward and fired off an explosion from each hand.

but when he got within reach he didn’t let them blow. instead, he balled up his fist and nailed a punch directly in ei’s gut before he had time to harden. eijirou flew back against his own desk with a huff, the air knocked out of him as bakugou leveled his stance.

katsuki wanted to do this right now? offer to be kirishima’s personal punching bag so he could get through whatever the hell he was upset about? okay, cool, fine. then kirishima would let him.

but he sure as hell wasn’t going to hold back.

kirishima reared back for another punch, directly to bakugou’s stupidly pretty face. he felt a little guilty for bruising his perfect cheekbones, but he would apologize for that later. he had some emotions to let out right now.

“kacchan, stop! you two are seriously going to get hurt,” deku tried to warn them as the pair went for each other’s throats again, their bodies a blur of fists and limbs and- oh great, now they /both/ have bloody lips.

their friends tried to pull them back from each other, ojirou and sero reaching for kirishima and denki and todoroki reaching for bakugou. but it was no use, they just kept getting free and lunging for each other again and again. throwing punches and landing kicks left and right.

“someone go find aizawa-sensei before they kill each other!” kirishima heard one of the girls shout after bakugou landed a particularly hard kick to his ribs. it hurt like hell.

if aizawa walked in then this would all be over. they would finally get pulled apart and sent to recovery girl to treat whatever wounds they had acquired before being met with an unavoidable scolding. it was good timing, though, because eijirou was running out of his adrenaline.

iida came back with their teacher just moments later and the second he did, bakugou and kirishima were being tied up by his scarf and stripped away from each other. they were both bloody and panting and you could definitely tell they just had an ass beating.

there were ragged scratch marks on the side of katsuki’s neck that must’ve been from eijirou accidentally hardening his fingers mid fight. and kirishima couldn’t reach up to feel it, but he could swear that his nose was most likely broken and swelling from how bad it hurt.

but katsuki was right. it felt damn good to get it out of his system.

but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t bummed out by the consequences.

“a whole day? but sensei-“

“if it were fully up to me, kirishima, it’d be a week,” aizawa countered, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the two boys standing in recovery girl’s office.

“whatever,” bakugou huffed, “when does it start?”

“tonight. you’re not to go anywhere until i come to the dorm tomorrow evening to tell you that you’re free to go. understood?”

“yes, sensei,” they said in unison.

“oh, and don’t break anything. or i won’t hesitate to pull out the expulsion forms,” he said before walking out and leaving the pair to be tended to by recovery girl.

it was going to be a /long/ 24 hours once they got back to the dorm.

/why the FUCK did he have to look so hot in a crop top/ was bakugou’s first thought the next morning when he woke up to find an empty dorm kitchen, apart from kirishima.

ei stood in front of the fridge, pretty red locks pulled back in a messy bun, sweatpants hanging on his hips, and an -obviously homemade- crimson riot crop top that stopped a few inches above his belly button. he was scratching his stomach and bakugou was getting distracted.

he wasn’t /supposed/ to find his best friend attractive like this. he shouldn’t be allowed to. not with how he acted yesterday. he didn’t want to admit it but it was his fault that they had gotten house arrest and he felt guilty as shit about it. he wanted to make it up to ei.

“if you’re looking for something to eat ya ain’t gonna find shit in there,” katsuki huffed, making kirishima jump at his unknown presence before he was suddenly shoving the red head out of the way. “you’re gonna have to cook something, idiot.”

“oh, no it’s fine!” kirishima beamed, putting space in between him and bakugou that normally wouldn’t be there. “i’ll just have a protein shake or something.”

bakugou raised an eyebrow at him.

“the fuck you acting weird for?” he asked, grabbing some ingredients out of the fridge and reaching over to swat ei’s hands away from the protein powder. “think i’m gonna hit ya or somethin?”

“n-no! of course not,” kirishima shook his head, tongue swiping over his still busted lip he hadn’t asked recovery girl to fix yesterday. “just don’t wanna.. piss you off i guess. make you more mad at me than you already are, ya know.”

bakugou nearly dropped the frying pan.

“who the fuck said i was mad at you?”

“well, i mean, you kinda did break my nose yesterday bro. a-and i figured after how i lashed out on you like that that you’d maybe, i don’t know, not wanna-“

“you’re so fucking stupid.”

“what?” kirishima breathed out, eyes widening as he stared at the boy in front of him.

bakugou just glared, jaw clenching before he turned and practically slammed the frying pan on top of the stove.

“nothing.”

kirishima didn’t like that answer, it just fed to the thought of bakugou being mad at him more. and he just- he /hated/ that. because he was one of the few people bakugou /didn’t/ hate. he prided himself on that. loved that. cherished that.

and now it was flying out the window.

“okay,” he nodded, arms crossing over his stomach.

suddenly, he wished he had worn a longer shirt.

“okay, right, sorry. i’ll just- i’ll just leave you be then. uh have a good day bro,” he smiled as he turned to leave the kitchen, trying not to show an ounce of hurt on his face.

fuck, he should’ve known. he should’ve known none of his friends really liked him enough to keep him around. and if his friends didn’t even like him, it was /stupid/ to think that bakugou katsuki of all people could ever return his feelings.

and the voice in the back of his head, though it was so so quiet against his raging thoughts, piped up just to say ‘and he definitely won’t want you when he finds out you’re a freak’.

and fuck, maybe his subconscious is finally right.

but then there’s a hand gripping his upper arm and pulling him to a stop before he can even take a step.

“the fuck you think you’re going, shitty hair? can’t you see i’m making breakfast for us, dumbass?”

for us. for. us. /for us/

and, oh, maybe his subconscious isn’t right.

kirishima settled up next to bakugou, who pointed towards ingredients for the redhead to grab as he waited for the frying pan to heat up on the stove. eijirou was more than content with gathering everything, just excited that he hadn’t really pissed his best friend off after all.

bakugou was so caught up in trying to read kirishima’s body language that he hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to him the entire time until he finally tuned his ears back in.

“-and he won’t give it back and it’s, like, my favorite hoodie ever bro!”

katsuki rolled his eyes and grabbed the eggs out of eijirou’s hands.

“just go fuckin take it from him then,” he grumbled, before flashing ei a playful smirk, “but it ain’t like ya wear proper clothes anyways. always walkin’ around half naked and shit.”

“i do not!” eijirou feigned a gasp, acting offended as he placed a hand over his heart. “i always wear clothes!”

“that-“ bakugou laughed, pointing his finger in the direction of kiri’s crop top, “doesn’t count as clothes. your tits are about to damn near fall out.”

and bakugou doesn’t miss the way eijirou’s smile falters ever so slightly at his comment before he’s widening it again, but this time the genuineness is slipping. his eyes don’t crinkle the right way. his reaction was so..

“real funny bro, but it ain’t that short!”

..weird.

now that katsuki thought about it, everything involving eijirou recently had been weird. /really/ fucking weird.

he’d been distant, not just with their other friends but with bakugou too, which was freaky. even if kirishima went a day or two without hanging with his friends, he’d always still be seen checking in with katsuki at least a few times. but not now, apparently.

he’d been on edge and cranky. not even just the little whiny, please don’t push my buttons today kind of cranky. he’d started snapping at all their friends and even mouthed off to present mic during class two days ago. and he was not one to disrespect teachers like that. ever.

and the most concerning of all was how.. violent he’d gotten. before, ei would never had dared jostled a hair on bakugou’s pretty little head. and now he had had a full on brawl in the middle of their classroom with him. nearly gave him a black eye. ei was never violent before.

bakugou didn’t like it. he didn’t like that eijirou had changed and pushed off his old polite and friendly mannerisms and he didn’t like whatever had made him this way. he didn’t like whatever the fuck was keeping his best friend on edge.

and he /especially/ didn’t like the half a foot of space that eijirou was currently keeping between them at all times.

he didn’t fucking like it one bit.

bakugou was trying to think of a way he could bring it up without sounding like a complete and utter dumbass because-

‘hey you’re not hanging off my shoulder and touching me every single second and i’m kinda missing all of the attention.”

-just sounds fuckin stupid.

so while he’s mulling over his thoughts and thinking of some sort of way to start the dreaded fucking convo, he raises a hand to point up to the cabinet.

“grab some salt, shitty hair.”

kirishima -of course- being all too willing to help his best bro with breakfast, nods his head with a grin and hops over to the cabinet to get the salt. when he opens it up, he scans for a moment before he finds what he’s looking for and raises his arms up to grab it.

and that’s when bakugou sees it.

he isn’t sure if he really saw anything at first as eijirou’s crop top rose up when he went to reach for the salt, he was trying to not stare after all. but then ei’s shirt raised up a bit more and bakugou was sure, he was sure that he saw something. no, not just something.

he saw scars.

“omg dude, after we eat we should totally go sneak into kami’s room and borrow that new game! i haven’t got to play it yet and it looks totally sick!” kirishima smiled as he shut the cabinet door and walked back over to bakugou, holding out the salt.

the blonde stood there, eyeing kirishima, not reaching for the item that he had asked him to retrieve. his gears were slowly but surely starting to turn, working their way through what he had just caught a glimpse of.

“uh, kat? bro? you good?” eijirou asked, waving a hand in front of his best friend’s face.

and bakugou reached a hand out.

scars. two of them. long, horizontal. still pretty visible, obvious he hadn’t had them long. on both sides of his chest. right under his pectorals. they were scars that bakugou had seen before. on deku. and the reason deku had them was-

time felt frozen the second katsuki gripped the frayed end of eijirou’s shirt and lifted it up, exposing his chest for bakugou to examine. the room went quiet, no sound around them. not even the sound of them breathing as eijirou stared at katsuki and katsuki stared at ei’s chest

and not even a second later the world hit play again and kirishima was stumbling away from bakugou and holding his arms over his chest as if the latter’s touch had burned him. he stared at katsuki with wide eyes, lip trembling and breathing hitched and heavy.

“wh-what the hell, man?!” eijirou spluttered out, gripping tighter on his shirt as he kept his arms covering his chest. “what was that for?!”

-the reason shitty deku had scars like that was because /he/ hadn’t been born a.. he. well, he had. but his body didn’t get the fucking memo. and if deku had those scars, and now katsuki saw the same ones on eijirou, then..

“you’re trans,” katsuki spat out, exuding the same level of gracefulness that he always did.

which was none.

and his words sounded a little too cold as they flew out of his mouth. and suddenly his tongue felt like lead as he watched eijirou’s face twist and contort into a look he had never quite seen on him before.

“you- you don’t know what you’re talking about!” eijirou dejected, voice firm as he glared at his best friend, a feeling of violation settling over his skin.

and bakugou laughed.

“you’re trans,” katsuki chuckled out, an eyebrow quirked up.

he wasn’t laughing to make fun, or even to make light of the situation. he was laughing because holy /fuck/ ei is trans and suddenly bakugou likes him even more. actually, respect would be the better word.

he’d always had respect for eijirou. after all anyone who took the damn time to break down all of katsuki’s walls deserved at least a little respect from him. but finding /this/ out? shit, his respect for the dumb haired bastard multiplied tenfold.

“s-so what if i am?” eijirou stammered, hardened fingers digging into his shoulders, voice wavering.

at the sight of tears in his pretty crimson eyes, katsuki realized that eijirou was taking his reaction completely wrong.

he was shaking, sharp fingertips nearly ripping holes in his shirt, as he stood a few feet away from bakugou, some stray tears clinging onto his eyelashes. and katsuki was finally able to pinpoint the expression kirishima had painted on his normally soft face.

eijirou was fucking /terrified/.

“you- are you going to tell everyone? are you- what’re you gonna- i-i’m not, i don’t want-“

“ei,” bakugou cut him off, placing his hands on either side of the redhead’s face, cupping his tear stained cheeks. “ei, no. fuck no. i just- fuck, it makes so much /sense./“

“..what?” eijirou mumbled, chest tightening.

what was that supposed to mean? ‘it makes so much sense’. so was it obvious? did everyone already know? did he not pass as well as he thought? did he not look enough like a dude? could his friends tell that he wasn’t really-

“hey, no, stop that. wipe that shitty look off your face. that’s not what i meant,” katsuki frowned, wiping ei’s tears away with his thumb.

breathe, eijirou, breathe.

but he couldn’t.

it felt like a band was wrapping tighter and tighter around his chest and his eyes weren’t focusing in on anything and his throat felt thick and everything felt too loud and too quiet all at once and he just couldn’t seem to-

“oi, look at me, ei. right here, look at me,” bakugou spoke, voice stern but soft, as he forced eijirou to make eye contact with him. “it’s alright. just breathe with me. in ‘n out. c’mon.”

oh, right, bakugou.

bakugou who always made sure ei shoveled in more real food than protein shakes. bakugou who gave ei his own notes when he needed some alone time to study. bakugou who sent him a grunt after training as his way of asking if he was alright. bakugou who was always there.

bakugou who was currently holding his face in his hands as if he were the most fragile thing on earth while breathing in slow and steady to try to bring eijirou back to reality.

/that/ bakugou.

eventually, eijirou’s breathing evened out and he found himself much closer to katsuki than before. his eyes had fallen shut when he tried to calm himself down but he felt a forehead pressing against his and how his own hands held bakugou’s securely against his face.

any other time he would’ve been embarrassed by the proximity while doing such an intimate thing. but not right now. because eijirou was too tired to care.

he was so tired.

he was tired of hiding and sneaking to the back part of the locker room just so he could get dressed without his friends looking his way and seeing the scars on his chest.

he was tired of having to wake up every single day and take a pill that reminded him he wasn’t fully what he wanted to be, and then had to make sure he didn’t miss his next shot.

he was tired of walking into the bathroom and not even being able to do it like he fucking /should/ and feeling even more like a freak after he walked back out.

he was tired of not finding any clothes that he actually felt comfortable in and not like he was wearing something he shouldn’t be and just playing pretend and how that affected his choice of his hero costume, too.

but really, he was just so so tired of having to handle all of this on his own. it was so fucking hard and he was so fucking tired and he just needed someone, /anyone/, to help him carry this burden around with him.

and then there was bakugou, warm forehead pressed right against ei’s and thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as he hummed something, some song eijirou remembered listening to with him the other day.

god, he couldn’t love bakugou anymore than he did in that moment.

“is that why you didn’t want to turn in those stupid costume forms?” katsuki finally broke the silence, barely above a whisper, as he slowly pulled back to get a good look at his best friend.

how someone could look so beautiful with a face swollen from crying was beyond him.

eijirou didn’t say anything, just nodded as katsuki slowly pieced all of it together. a knot grew in katsuki’s stomach and his shoulders slumped.

“shit, wait, ei. your forms. i filled them out with- with the- fuck!” he dropped his hands and turned on his heel, ready to run.

he had to get those forms back before aizawa finalized them! he had to change ei’s costume design from the original one because this one was sure as hell going to show his chest- his scars- and katsuki didn’t want to see that terrified look on eijirou’s face ever again.

but as he took his first few steps, a hand wrapped lightly around his wrist and pulled him back. katsuki looked over his shoulder with furrowed brows, eyeing the small smile on eijirou’s face.

“dude, don’t worry about them. it’s okay.”

but was it really?

bakugou stood there for a moment, holding his ground, searching eijirou’s eyes for any trace of a lie, any inkling of falsity behind his reassurance. but there’s none, ei’s eyes were soft, the smile on his face -though ever so small- was genuine behind his statement.

katsuki let his muscles relax but upon doing so, he realized that there was something he had been neglecting throughout his little outburst with eijirou.

the fucking eggs were burning.

“shit, dumbass, you distracted me!” katsuki snapped as he tugged his wrist out of ei’s grip and ran over to pull the eggs off the stove.

kirishima laughed as bakugou’s soft facade was dropped and his normal and agitated one returned. he smiled as he walked over to bakugou.

the blonde was trying to scrape the eggs off the frying pan and eijirou simply hummed, taking it from him and hardening a finger that effortlessly scraped the burnt breakfast off all in one go, leaving bakugou with a slightly amused expression on his face.

“tch,” katsuki rolled his eyes when he noticed that ei had caught his semi-proud look. “i’m not hungry anymore. i’m going to my room.”

eijirou stared after him a little confused, frying pan still in his hand. he was sure they had had a moment earlier, but now..

he sighed and shook his head. he was probably just overthinking it, making it into something that it wasn’t. like he always did. being stupidly hopeful for all the wrong things. bakugou had just been acting like a good friend is all. nothing more.

he turned to drop the pan into the sink to deal with later and nearly jumped when he turned back around to find the blonde still standing there, an eyebrow quirked up.

“are you comin’?” bakugou asked, arms crossed over his chest.

oh, yes. yes yes yes ye-

kirishima almost tripped over his own two feet with how fast he tried to scurry over to katsuki. making the blonde snort.

“idiot,” he mumbled, a small smile gracing his lips.

it was ten minutes later when bakugou found himself laying in his bed next to his bestfriend, so close that their shoulders were brushing, as they watched a movie on bakugou’s tablet.

well, kirishima was watching the movie. bakugou was too busy staring at kirishima and warring within himself whether he should ask the question he wanted to or not.

“ei.”

it rolled off his tongue before he could even think to stop it. he had half a mind to just act as if he hadn’t said anything until eijirou was instantly looking over at him with a smile on his lips, pausing the movie on screen.

“yeah, bro?”

shit. shit fuck okay. too late to back out now. c’mon you’re /the/ bakugou katsuki. just spit it out! you’re not some stupid extra that’s too afraid to ask-

“dude, you alri-“

“can i touch them?”

the silence was instant, mood completely shifted as bakugou quickly teared his eyes away from eijirou’s. his ears were burning, he’s sure he looked so fucking stupid, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

“never mind, just-“

“/kat/.”

katsuki didn’t look up, he didn’t want to. he felt.. weird. insensitive for even asking something like that. this wasn’t just deku who he could walk up and do whatever to. this was eijirou, and he didn’t want to make a single wrong move. but he felt like that’s all he was making.

“katsuki, dude,” eijirou repeated, moving so his face was in katsuki’s line of sight, “don’t be all embarrassed about asking things like that. it’s okay you know. i don’t mind when it’s you.”

/i don’t mind when it’s you/.

oh.

/oh/.

he lifted his head up just in time to see eijirou lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it to the foot of the bed.

“now i gotta warn ya,” ei smiled as he leaned back on the bed, resting his arms behind his chest, “if you wanna touch, i’m /kinda/ ticklish.”

katsuki’s face heated up all over again as he stared at ei’s face for a moment. he hadn’t even /asked/ eijirou about any /touching/ but now he was already granted that before he even started. he simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, moving so he was sitting on his knees.

“course you are,” he grumbled through a smirk, making eijirou’s face light up with one of his own.

“don’t act like you aren’t either! everyone’s got some sort of tickle spot, bro!”

“pfft, whatever,” he shook his head, trailing his eyes slowly away from eijirou’s face.

eijirou’s scars were different from deku’s. longer. more visible. probably because eijirou was a slightly bigger build than deku, and he might’ve gotten it done more recent. katsuki’s face softened as he thought it over, reaching a hand up to run his thumb over the left scar.

ei was glad that katsuki was too focused on his chest to be looking at his face anymore. he was sure his face matched his hair at this point and there was definitely a huge dopey grin on his face. that’s probably why his cheeks hurt. but he couldn’t help it! he was just so happy.

it felt so /good/ to be open to someone like this. to have someone he didn’t have to be scared and hide around, that he could just.. be himself. god, he was so happy he could just kiss bakugou right now.

wait, no, he doesn’t need to do that. he’s already exposed one freaky thing to bakugou today, he doesn’t need to load his dumb feelings on top of that too. c’mon eijirou, pull yourself together.

but even through all that, he couldn’t stop his hand from leaving the back of his head and reaching up to comb through bakugou’s hair. the blonde’s eyes jutted over to him almost immediately, but he instantly relaxed when he realized it was just eijirou being touchy like usual.

if kirishima didn’t know any better, he would even say that bakugou had leaned into his touch as his hand stayed tangled in his hair, thumb rubbing over his temple. bakugou kept tracing his fingers over eijirou’s scars, humming out a sound every now and then.

this was nice. eijirou could get used to this. he /wanted/ to get used to this. it just felt so right, he felt so safe, he felt so /normal/. he felt normal around bakugou, unlike he ever felt before. he wanted to stay like this forever. keep this moment forever.

“are you going to.. keep your design the same as those forms?” bakugou spoke after a while.

he wasn’t sitting up on his knees anymore, but rather moved to lay on his stomach next to eijirou, chin resting on the latter’s chest as he still traced over the marks on his skin.

“yeah,” eijirou nodded, pushing bakugou’s bangs away from his forehead before letting the hair fall back into place, “yeah, i think so.”

bakugou’s lip pursed, but he nodded. it was obvious what he was thinking but was too put off to ask. so eijirou continued.

“i don’t think i’m worried about people knowing anymore,” he smiled down at kat, whose head tilted slightly to the side. “i think.. that if finding out and seeing the scars changes their viewpoint of me, then that’s sooo unmanly ‘n i shouldn’t care about their opinions anyways.”

a proud half smirk-half smile spread across bakugou’s lips as he pushed himself up on his elbows until his face was just above kirishima’s.

“hell yeah,” he agreed, “unmanly as hell. ‘n if i hear them say anything i’ll blast their fucking ass.”

eijirou laughed at his best friend’s reassurance, the hand he had in his hair sliding down to cup his cheek. he found himself subconsciously tugging his face down until their foreheads were pressed together again.

katsuki thanked the gods that eijirou’s eyes were crinkled shut from the laughter so that he couldn’t see just how red his face had gotten. how he flushed even more when their noses accidentally brushed. how he couldn’t fully stop himself from leaning in the rest of the way.

and the second katsuki’s eyes fell shut, eijirou’s eyes snapped open. because, oh, katsuki had pressed their lips together. just barely, merely ghosting, but it was there. it was there and only for half a second before he was pulling away and reaching for the tablet.

eijirou stared with a red face and mouth parted open as katsuki sat up and pressed play for the movie as if he hadn’t just kissed him two seconds ago. it took everything in eijirou to push himself up and stare at katsuki in complete disbelief.

“stop gaping, dumbass!” bakugou snapped at him, his own blush tinting his cheekbones as he refused to look anywhere in kirishima’s direction.

eijirou instantly clamped his mouth closed before opening it again to laugh, disbelieving at first but slowly morphing into happiness.

he pulled the tablet out of katsuki’s hands and tossed it aside, not even caring enough to pause the movie on screen. he wasted no time in grabbing katsuki’s face and slamming their lips together again. it was messy, uncoordinated, and probably not the best, but it was good.

“you kissed me!” eijirou said as he pulled away, out of breath. “you don’t think i’m some freak, you kissed me!”

bakugou’s flustered face turned a different kind of red at the mention of the word ‘freak’ and a frown settled on his lips.

“you’re not a damn freak. don’t ever-“

“okay,” eijirou nodded his head, “okay, yeah, okay.”

katsuki rolled his eyes but smiled as he let a hand trail over one of eijirou’s scars again, ever so softly.

“don’t let anyone try to say you’re a freak, ei. you aren’t a freak and you’re the manliest guy i know.”

“yeah?” ei asked with a grin, arms wrapping around katsuki’s neck.

“yeah,” bakugou nodded, smirking as he leaned in again, lips centimeters away from the other’s.

and yeah, it’s true.

eijirou was the manliest guy -manliest person- that katsuki knew. and he doubted that anyone else would ever take that place.

and /nothing/ could ever change that.

- end of thread