Author's Notes: Since I absolutely adore the bromance between these two, I have decided to take a stab into the fanfiction world. I sincerely hope that this isn't garbage and I love to make people laugh. So, here's hoping…

See ending notes for inspiration.

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Denim Can Die...

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Kirishima didn't know why it seemed like the universe had a sick sense of humor, but surely it did. You see, all the sharp toothed boy wanted to do after his workout routine was to take a shower and reflect on his intern experience. His internship with Fourth Kind hadn't been exactly what he had expected. It had been more paper pushing and learning policies than anything of real interest. However, Kirishima had found one good quality about his quirk as he recalled the luke warm tea incident and Fourth Kind's satisfaction at hitting his hardened body.

If anything, the redhead now knew that he had to focus more on his maneuverability if he were going to keep up with this class of elite students. Speaking of elite students…

Jeez, someone was making a great deal of noise from the near-empty locker room. The string of curse words indicated that it could only be one individual—a foulmouthed blond with a knack for explosives. Kirishima rounded the corner, his towel and shower caddy in hand when he froze at the sight before him.

Bakugou looked like a cornered animal, as he tensed at the arrival of a newcomer, his red eyes narrowed in angry little slits and the familiar sound of his quirk, (which reminded Kirishima of microwave popcorn), filled the space now that the slew of profanities had come to an abrupt halt.

It was not in his best interest, Kirishima knew this, however…

He started laughing and he couldn't stop. The sharp toothed boy tried to cover his mouth with his hand, but his wide smile immediately shown through the gaps in his fingers. Before Kirishima knew it, he was leaning against a wall of lockers wheezing and holding his stomach.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Bakugou immediately threatened, but with his current mobility, the redhead was certain he could outmaneuver him.

The red-faced blond had just ended his internship with Best Jeanist. Best Jeanist was known as quite the fashion mogul, with a love for his trademark styled hair and, of course, denim.

Life sure was ironic, thought the unphased teen, as he tried to regain his composure.

There was Bakugou Katsuki, with his perfectly styled blond hair and a pair of tight denim jeans, that he couldn't seem to get down past his thighs. Kirishima knew he'd probably be pressing his luck if he commented on the color of Explosion Boy's underwear—red was his favorite color after all.

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5 minutes later…

Kirishima was no better off than he had been before, if anything his laughter had just intensified at this chain of events—Bakugou Katsuki has been bested by a pair of denim!

"Baku-bro," the redhead managed in between laughs, "your face right now…"

"Shitty hair," came the threat through grit teeth, as smoke started to waft up from his hand, "I swear to God, I will blow you into next week if you don't fucking shut up…"

"Okay dude," his friend ceased his actions to consider the weight of those words. Kirishima's crimson eyes seemed to speak volumes as a shit-eating grin appeared on his face, "You can totally try that, but you'll still be wearing these pants."

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Mineta sure did hate anything to do with work. In fact, all the lecherous grape wanted to do was creep on girls and put his quirk to good use. If he could just become a hero, then all the girls would flock to him. He could feel his nose warm at the very thought of all those busty beauties and—

"Pull harder dammit!"

Mineta's eyes widened in awe of the statement that he had managed to hear in passing the locker room door. The short boy stood frozen to that very spot as visions entered his mind. Had someone given into their teenage hormonal desires?!

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"How did you even get into these?" Kirishima's voice held an incredulous tone, temporarily ceasing his movements.

It seemed that the universe was conspiring against them. Hell, the universe probably had a bowl of popcorn and was enjoying itself! The angrier Bakugou became, the tighter the pants seemed to get.

The crimson eyed teen let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know man, maybe you're just going to have to live in these for a while," he offered for lack of a better option coming to mind. At this rate, he'd never get showered and to dinner!

The look his companion shot at him would have killed a lesser man, as the blond's well styled hair shot up from response to his anger. The redhead couldn't help himself, "On the bright side, your hair is back to normal now!"

It was probably in Bakugou's favor that Kirishima's entire UA persona had to do with all things manly. It would be unmanly of him to leave Bakugou in such a predicament—lying on his back, holding on to a locker room bench with his pants around his thighs, to brace himself as his self-appointed friend pulled at the fabric around his ankles. No matter how amusing it might be, it wasn't something Kirishima could just walk away from.

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Mineta's pupils were expanding in excitement, his ear propped against the locker room door, as he could make out the muffled sounds from inside.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you…"

"I said I can take it…"

The pervert could feel his face heating up and had to pinch his nose. There was no way he could make out which couple it was inside of the closed room. They were too far away; however, that didn't stop him from imagining all the potentials…

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By now, the teen wasn't sure if the odd noises he was hearing were from the pair inside or himself. It felt awfully warm in the hallway and he was lightheaded too—possibly from the blood loss.

"On the count of three, I'll do it…"

"Hurry up already, I can't wait any longer…"

Mineta was no quitter!

"One…"

The teen with the vivid imagination found himself counting as well…

"Two…"

He was going to hear this to the very end as he pinched his nose tighter.

"Three…"

Mineta held his breath, hearing something scrape. Were they using a locker room bench?!

The air in the boy's lungs seemed to be entering and escaping all too quickly, he would surely resemble an asthmatic having an attack.

"Now how does that feel?"

"Fucking, finally…"

And with that the grape felt the room grow dark as his body hit the floor.

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Bakugou looked down from exiting the locker room in response to his foot having stepped on something blob like. Kirishima stopped shortly after, towel still around his neck to collect the drops from his still damp hair, as he looked downward at the boy who resembled a smooshed grape.

"What the fuck's his problem?" questioned the blond with a look of disgust, like he would surely have to wash his shoe later.

"Who knows?" offered his friend with a shrug, "Hey, what time is it?"

Bakugou brought his phone from the pocket of his sweat pants and replied, "It's 5:10, why?"

Kirishima's face took on a look of distress. "That took way longer than it should have! We're having spicy katsudon tonight for dinner. Jeez, I hope the others don't eat it all before we get there! C'mon bro! We gotta go!"

Bakugou groaned—yet begrudgingly—allowed for the crimson eyed teen to take hold of his hand and usher him down the hallway.

"Don't pull me, you idiot!" came his halfhearted protests, his quirk never showing signs of activation, "I can fucking walk by myself!"

As their voices drifted further and further away,

"You like spice right?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

"Want to have a spice challenge at dinner? See who can handle the most heat!"

"That should be pretty fucking obvious."

"Don't get so cocky Blasty McSplodes! Winner is not only the most manly, but has to do the other's chores for a week."

"You're on, shitty hair!"

Mineta's unconscious body was all that remained…

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Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment or kudos if you can, as this is my first stab at KiriBaku. 5 more parts to come so please stay tuned.

Inspiration: pin/864339353457477731/?fbclid=IwAR0gc30ioNXiNDDvb14sIw_wPzO7S0CY7AgwyoHD9h0ky73_3dWFP461IbY