Author's Note: Here we are, the moment that I had been waiting to write since I started this fic! This chapter took a lot of love and heartbreak, including completely scrapping the first iteration, so I hope you enjoy (as much as you can enjoy angst).

TW: depression

No, no, no. This can't be happening. Bakugou clenches his fists, silently wishing to be transported anywhere else. Please, I don't want to deal with this tonight.

The last person he wants to see right now is standing right in front of him. At first Bakugou didn't recognize him. Kirishima's usually bright face is replaced with deep frown lines, long scars, and wrinkles across his forehead. He looks exhausted and much older than he is - like he's aged ten years even though it's only been three. His dimples are gone, a reminder of how often he smiled back in the day. His short, dark hair is neatly combed to the side, making his crimson eyes a lot brighter.

This isn't Kirishima. Not the one he once knew, anyway. This man is not the one he fell in love with.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bakugou demands. He grabs hold of the doorknob and twists, his hands shaking. His muscles tense, making the rib belt feel tighter than it is, constricting his breathing. He tries to apply every emotional processing tool he's learned in therapy: Count backwards from ten, focus on the windchill on your skin, control your breathing.

Bakugou curses at himself. He should have gotten to that bottle of whiskey earlier.

"I, uh…" Kirishima stutters, wringing his hands. He looks nervous. He avoids making eye contact and vacantly looks at something just over Bakugou's shoulder, which thoroughly pisses Bakugou off. Kirishima gulps. A drop of sweat trickles from his forehead down to his chin. "I, erm -"

Bakugou sighs and starts to swing the door close. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"Wait!" Kirishima screams, sticking his foot in the doorway. Their eyes finally meet and Bakugou's stomach lurches. There's a glint of pure terror and a bit of manic beneath Kirishima's irises. For a split second, Bakugou wonders what this man has been through these past few years, what horrors he's seen...what despicable crimes he's had to commit as a member of the guild.

No. Bakugou shakes his head. You won't get any sympathy from me. "Spit it out, Shitty Hair, or leave me the fuck alone."

Kirishima winces. He takes a moment to inhale deeply, breaking their gaze. His eyes drop to the floor. "I...owe you an apology. And an explanation."

Bakugou feels hot moisture collecting beneath his doorknob loosens in his grasp and he realizes he's been squeezing it too hard. Bakugou spent the past two days in the hospital ruminating and piecing together what happened at the hotel and what Kirishima was up to. By the end of it, he couldn't deny, from a Hero's point of view, Kirishima's choices to go dark and continue the mission. As much as he hates to admit it, he understands why he did it.

"I don't want your apology," Bakugou whispers, his voice hoarse. "And I don't need an explanation."

Kirishima looks up, tears stuck in his eyes. "But -"

"Look," Bakugou cuts him off, his patience quickly depleting. "What's there to explain? You faked your death, you infiltrated the guild's security team, and you took down the King and his constituents. You're a goddamn hero." He makes sure those last words were brusque, dark.

"I don't feel like quite the hero at the moment." Kirishima shifts uncomfortably and wraps his arms around himself. Bakugou can't pinpoint it, but there's something in Kirishima that feels...unstable. "I know it's a lot to ask...but can I come inside? I think I need to sit down for a second."

"Tch," Bakugou says, reluctant to give in to his request. Still, the man does look pale. The last thing he wants is for Kirishima to collapse at his doorstep. He steps aside and widens the door. "Are you having an anxiety attack or something?"

"Just dizzy," replies Kirishima, walking in hesitantly. "Thanks."

"Make it quick," says Bakugou, closing the door. "I have company for dinner."

"Oh," says Kirishima quietly. He scratches the back of his neck. "I don't mean to intrude."

Bakugou rolls his eyes. "It's just Todoroki." He notices Kirishima flinching at the name, but he doesn't question it. He doesn't want to know. "We can talk in the kitchen." He gestures to him to lead the way.

Kirishima stuffs his hands in his pockets and heads to the kitchen. There's something in the way he surveys the apartment that sends chills down Bakugou's spine. Kirishima doesn't turn his head or look around, but his eyes seem to dart to every corner of the room. Under his breath he comments, "I've always wondered how the bookshelf would look there."

Bakugou frowns. He wonders if this place still feels like home to Kirishima. Or if it's all completely foreign to him now. Has he forgotten the spot in the living room where Bakugou first said I love you? Has he forgotten the places they made love, the places they argued and reconciled almost instantly? Or are the memories as visceral for him as it is for Bakugou?

When they reach the kitchen, Kirishima turns to him. "Can I bother you for a glass of water?"

Bakugou doesn't reply. He walks over to the cabinet and takes a glass, then proceeds to the fridge to fill it up. The photo of the former couple pinned on the refrigerator door catches his eyes. He quickly swipes it and slips it into a nearby drawer.

"Do you hate me, Bakugou?"

Bakugou spins around. Kirishima is sitting on one of the bar chairs behind the counter, wearing an expression that makes Bakugou's heart wrench. He places the glass of water in front of Kirishima, who takes it very slowly.

A barrage of conflicting emotions and jumbled thoughts burn through him. A part of him is happy that Kirishima is alive. There wasn't a single day that went by without Bakugou missing him like crazy. Not a single night went by without thinking how much more dismal the world was without Red Riot. There were so many dreams he wished for Kirishima to fulfill, ones Kirishima has had since they were kids: make Top 3 in the hero rankings, travel the world, start a family…those wishes can become reality again.

But, then there's another part of Bakugou - a much larger one, one that sickens him - that wishes Kirishima had stayed dead. He spent the past few years clawing his way out of a dark hole that Kirishima put him in and he was finally okay. Then, the illusion caved in. The curtains were drawn and everything he knew was a lie.

"I don't know," Bakugou replies. He stands on the other side and leans over the counter, using his elbows to prop him up. "You fucking lied to me." He rubs his face furiously. "You deceived me. I was so fucking miserable."

"I know," Kirishima says, voice quivering. "It must have been such a painful experience for you."

Bakugou stares at him, irritated at his sympathy. "Pain you put me through," Bakugou states tersely. Do you not have a single clue the absolute hell you trapped me in? Did your boss not fill you in?

"I didn't mean to," Kirishima says, his fingers shaking around the glass.

Bakugou throws him a curious look and snarkily replies, "You didn't mean to keep this from me? Todoroki and Deku got the honor of knowing you were okay, but I didn't?"

"I wasn't thinking about that." Kirishima clenches his fists, his face earnest. Pleading. "I was just obsessed with the mission. It wasn't about you -"

"What?" Bakugou reacts quickly, eyes ablaze. It takes all his strength to contain his anger. If he loses even an ounce of control, he'll blow the roof off his own apartment. His words come out slowly, heavily. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

Kirishima freezes. He doesn't move for a couple of minutes. Then, feebly he says, "I just meant that this was something bigger than the both of us -"

"You piece of shit," Bakugou hisses. He knows how much of an airhead Kirishima can be, but this is some next level stupidity. "Am I really that meaningless to you?"

"No!" exclaims Kirishima desperately. He's scratching at his arm, his fingernails digging deep into his skin. "Katsuki, you were everything to me."

Bakugou's already bruised heart shatters. He glares at Kirishima, shoving down the sob forming in his throat. "Were?"

"Are," Kirishima tries to recover, but it's too late. "You are everything to me."

There's silence. Kirishima's words hang in the air aimlessly. A part of Bakugou wants to believe him, but he can't. It's all lost now. Before the raid, Bakugou was starting to forget Kirishima's soft, caring features, his infectious laugh, his wide smile. His long embraces and deep kisses. The way he whispered his name in bed. Those were all being replaced with other images.

They were replaced with Todoroki's stoic, but determined eyes and his soft, leveled voice. His arms that would hold Bakugou when he felt weak. His loyalty, his persistence, his patience. The way Todoroki's lips curl in those rare moments when he smiles. Those same lips that Bakugou longs to have in his.

Is he still allowed to have these feelings about Todoroki now that Kirishima's reappeared?

Bakugou emits a long, tired breath. "Look, Shitty Hair, I get why you did it. This was about saving people. It was about crushing the guild. As a pro, I get it. As someone who was your life partner, it just really fucking hurts."

Kirishima lets out a whimper, tears streaming down his face. "I'm...really sorry," he whispers.

Bakugou pushes aside the guilt he's starting to feel. That's not fair, Shitty Hair. Bakugou isn't at fault here. He wants to be infuriated and repulsed by the man in front of him. Not guilty.

"Kirishima," Bakugou tries his family name for the first time that night and it feels just as odd on his lips as it is wonderfully familiar. Kirishima's head snaps up at the sound of his own name and his eyes go wide. Bakugou ignores the hurt he sees in them. "I am trying so fucking hard...to grapple with the fact…" he sucks in a breath, feeling his voice tremor. "...with the fact that I was collateral damage.

"I don't know if you knew," Bakugou continued, laser focused on his hands, not bearing to look at him. "But, your death sent me down a fucking spiral. I grieved for you. I was lost without you. I drank, hoping that the alcohol would erase the misery. I drank and drank, to the point that maybe I'd be seeing you again sooner than I thought."

He pauses to look up. Kirishima covers his mouth with both hands and Bakugou wonders if it's out of repulsion or sympathy.

"I..didn't...know," Kirishima whispers. Bakugou can tell Kirishima has been holding back his cries by the way he hiccups every now and then. "Are..you.."

"I've been sober for over a year." Bakugou feels his nerves calming down. The anger dissipates slowly and he now just feels incredibly sad. He regrets the situation they find themselves in; hates that there's likely no chance of Kirishima coming home. Not like this.

"I'm...still…" Kirishima takes a deep breath and tries to steady his voice. "I'm still...in love with you, Katsuki."

His words, once again, hang aimlessly in the air. Bakugou leaves them there. "I think you should go, Kirishima."

\\\

For the rest of the night, Bakugou is lost in a fog he can't quite navigate through. He sees everything through a sheet of film, his vision constantly blurred by tears. When Todoroki arrives for dinner, Bakugou stares at him blankly. Todoroki is speaking to him, his mouth is moving, but the words are all garbled up, as if Bakugou is under water. He manages to reply to him somehow and soon Todoroki walks into the kitchen to start cooking dinner.

Bakugou follows him, only having enough energy to go through the motions. He slices the potatoes and rinses the rice when Todoroki asks him to, sets the table when he's told to, and spares two words at most to Todoroki's questions. When they sit down to eat, Bakugou barely touches anything on his plate. He can't taste much. Everything is numb. He doesn't feel anything.

The night is still young when the two decide to get ready for bed. In the bedroom, Todoroki starts unfolding the futon. Bakugou slowly unbuttons his shirt, mildly aware of how sore his ribcage is.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Todoroki suddenly asks.

Bakugou drops his hands to his side, his eyes fixed on an empty wall. Are you going to talk to him, Katsuki? For some reason, he can't form the words. He knows he should let it all out, but his voice fails him. He just waits and watches himself get pulled downward into that familiar black hole, thinking that maybe it's safer down there. At least the darkness will make sense down there.

"I got you." Todoroki's words are clear as day, right beside his ear. "I'm here." Bakugou feels two arms from behind wrap around him, crossing at his chest and holding him tightly. Todoroki places his chin on Bakugou's shoulder, their breathing becoming aligned. "It's okay, Katsuki. It's going to be okay."

An overwhelming feeling of warmth rushes through Bakugou and he realizes it's the first time he's felt something since Kirishima left. He feels this, Todoroki's embrace. He feels Todoroki's heartbeat against his back, Todoroki's breath on his neck. Bakugou turns his head to him and their eyes meet. And before Bakugou can do anything, he feels Todoroki's lips on his, tender and electric.

Bakugou mewls softly, surprised by how warm and soft his lips are. Todoroki's hands slide down to Bakugou's waist, gently rotating him so they're face-to-face. He deepens the kiss, parting his mouth in a way that sends Bakugou's heart racing. Bakugou's arms find their way around Todoroki's neck, which causes him to flinch from the pain throbbing in his torso.

"Careful," Todoroki whispers, his palms slipping beneath the fabric and gliding up and down Bakugou's sides. An icy mist hits Bakugou's skin and he shivers, a wave of relief washing over him as his swollen muscles relax. "Better?"

"Mmm," Bakugou hums, pulling Todoroki in, bridging the gap between them once again. He loves the feeling Todoroki's closeness provides, love just being able to feel something, anything. He presses his body against Todoroki eagerly and the other man reciprocates by clutching the back of Bakugou's shirt. Bakugou wastes no time and pulls them apart, lightly pushing Todoroki onto the bed.

"Ow." Todoroki grimaces as soon as his head hits the pillow. He sits forward, rubbing the back of his head. "What the…"

Bakugou is genuinely confused when Todoroki reaches under the pillow and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Todoroki stares at the bottle, his face contorted with frustration. He looks up at him.

The memory hits Bakugou like an incoming train. Fuck. "It's not what you think."

"You're supposed to be 18 months sober," Todorki states, swinging the bottle in front of him. "What are you doing with this?"

"I didn't drink it," snaps Bakugou, annoyed that he's being accused so quickly and that the mood has abruptly been broken.

"What's it doing in the apartment?" Todoroki demands, his voice rising. "Were you keeping it for a rainy day?"

The last thing Bakugou wants is an argument. He extends an open palm. "Here. Give it to me. I'm not in the mood."

Todoroki stands up and reluctantly hands him the bottle. Bakugou grabs it, practically prying it from Todoroki's fingers. "Get rid of it," orders Todoroki. "Okay?"

Bakugou refuses to answer him. Stop telling me what to do, he wants to shout. Instead he sets the bottle on his windowsill.

"Bakugou," Todoroki says his name like a parent would to their disobedient child. "Toss it."

"No," says Bakugou sharply. He crosses his arms and scowls, shooting daggers at him.

"You don't need it," urges Todoroki, stepping forward and reaching his hand out.

Bakugou swats it away. "I need it to forget that Kirishima ever visited me tonight."

Todoroki pauses, his mouth agape. His eyes shimmer with fear in the moonlight streaming from the open window. "Kirishima...was here? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I just want to forget that he exists!" Bakugou booming shouts reverberate around the room. "I just wanted to...be with you. I wanted to forget and be with you."

Todoroki covers his face with his palms and grunts. "This was a mistake."

It's as if Bakugou was punched in the gut. Those four words shock him. Was he foolish to have held onto a chance at happiness? A chance he can share that happiness with Todoroki? Hearing that this was a mistake makes him feel like a complete idiot...once again. I've been played twice by people I care about and it's partly my fault. Because I let my guard down. Because I let people in. I was never this gullible before.

"Get out," Bakugou mutters, shutting his eyes tightly. Perhaps the next time he opens them Todoroki will be long gone. "Get out now."