Katsuki was laying on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, trying very hard not to think. After training-where nothing at all had happened-he had rushed back to the dorms. Where he had proceeded to have one of the most spine-tingling orgasms of his life, gasping Kirishima's name all the while.

Thump!

Now the pleasure and adrenaline had faded, leaving nothing behind but embarrassment, a vague sense of guilt and…

Not fear. He wasn't afraid. He was Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he didn't feel fear. But perhaps, trepidation? A touch of anxiousness? He wasn't scared of rejection, Katsuki told himself firmly. What did he care what stupid Shitty Hair thought of him? He knew he was the best, obviously. The idiot should feel flattered that Katsuki even tolerated him.

Clatter! Bang!

He wasn't scared of rejection, he just…hadn't thought Kirishima need to know. It was Katsuki's business. So what if he liked the redheaded ray of sunshine! So what if his laugh made warmth pool in his chest!

So what if his smile was the brightest thing on any given day! So what if his strong steady warmth, the grasp of that calloused palm in his own, the gentle press of an arm around his shoulders, the presence of another at his side, always ready to follow him, always ready to call him out on his bullshit, but never looking to change him, caused Katsuki's rage to cool and peace to settle in his bones.

Thud! Thud! Creak!

So what if that unwavering, accepting, understanding faith that Katsuki was good and was only going to be better-a better fighter, a better hero, a better person-made getting up on the hard days possible.

Clang! "Ow!Shit!"

So fucking what if Kirishima made Katsuki feel all that? It didn't mean the bastard had to know about it! What the hell was Katsuki supposed to do now? Admit it? Deny it? Never mention it again and hope Kirishima would have the tact to let the whole thing be forgotten?

And what if it happened again?

Crash!

Katsuki scrunched his eyes, kicking his feet and curling towards the wall. Knowing that no one was watching he took a pillow, placed it over his head, and screamed.

Because of course it was going to happen again!

Bang!

"For Gods fucking sake!" Screamed Katsuki, sitting upright and pounding his fist against the wall. "Stop breaking shit and quiet the fuck down Shitty Hair!"

There was a long, guilty silence. Not hearing any more crashing sounds Katsuki slowly took a breath, letting the tension fall from his shoulders and leaning his forehead against the wall.

It's not like the 'before' Kirishima hadn't affected him in such a way. A few embarrassingly close shaves came to mind immediately, that time massaging the idiot's shoulders, the time when Kirishima got to into scenting him after studying. A few more times after training, watching his back muscles ripple, tasting the salt from his sweat, that dark musk of masculine strength, had got Katsuki's blood flowing south and his body buzzing.

That had been controllable. Manageable. This? This was different. There was no way Katsuki was going to be able to control himself with Kirishima suddenly being so much more Kirishima. Kirishima squared!

Never fucking mind how hot the redhead had been in training. Bestial, unstoppable, dominating.

Able to just take what he wanted.

Katsuki clenched his fists, a familiar tingling buzzing up his spine and pooling in his groin.

Thump! Smack! Clatter! Creak! "No! No, no, no, shit! Fuck! No!"

Crash!

Katsuki pounded the wall, smacking his head against it once for good measure, when a series of escalating noises echoed from the room beyond. Frustrated, Katsuki stood up, opening his screed door and slamming it loudly as he stepped out onto his balcony. The night air was quick to cool the sweat on his back, brining goosebumps to his flesh. A pleasant breeze wafted past, ruffling his hair.

A moment later there was the clicking of a door unlocking and Kirishima stepped out into the night. Katsuki told himself not to look over, feeling the presence of the redhead like a brand on his side.

"Sorry Bakugou. I'm being kind of loud, aren't I?"

"Fucking obviously. What are you even doing in there?"

"I'm just unpacking, but I keep knocking things over and stuff. I tried taking a break and using my punching bag, but I broke it!" Complained Kirishima, sounding distressed. "Then I tried doing some weight training, but I gripped the dumbbell to tightly and it kind of…squished? And then I dropped it."

Katsuki gritted his teeth, but it was no good. He looked. Immediately he was hit once again with just how much larger Kirishima was now. Before he had left the redhead had only just about grown a few centimetres taller than Katsuki, now he had a least a foot on him. The idiot's shoulders stretching wide and imposing, packed with new muscle. The blond swore he could feel Kirishima's body heat, even with the few meters of distance between them. Goosebumps of another kind broke out across Katsuki's neck.

Kirishima stood silent, looking at his own hand. Slowly clenching and releasing his fist. A small furrow came to his brow and a second later the skin had hardened slightly. Katsuki could just about see the beginning of the new interlocking, overlapping segmented form. Like scales, Katsuki thought.

Kirishima pressed the tip of his finger to the iron raining, gently pressing down. The railing crumpled. Kirishima pulled his hand back hurriedly.

"Hahaha," he laughed awkwardly, catching Katsuki eye and smiling nervously. "Neat, right?"

Katsuki swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. He opened his mouth, closed it. The only thing running through his mind a collection of embarrassing pleading noises. Fuck, but he wanted to be in those arms.

Kirishima's smile wobbled in the silence, crimson eyes wavering.

Fuck! Fuck! Katsuki needed to say something! Anything!

"That was so fucking hot" he wheezed, voice cracking.

Fucking-not that!