"I-"

Bakugou stood in the doorway, face scrunched up in this mix of sadness and pain that would have been funny were he not gripping the doorframe to steady himself.

Kirishima quickly shut off the news when Bakugou put his keys in the lock. He looked up and then stood up, arms out but not touching. Bakugou didn't like to be touched. "Hey man," he said instead.

A villain had caused a massive disruption in the late afternoon, a power so big and terrifying even Deku was holding back tears as he spoke to the news reporters, legs shaking from exhaustion. Cars had been thrown from the road, buildings destroyed, hitting civilians in the busy area.

Causing havoc just as school kids were coming home.

14 dead and up to 73 injured. More Hero's are arriving to aid in the rescue effort.

Fuck.

Bakugou still hadn't spoken and that was strange. Kirishima had known him long enough to have seen him upset, to have seen him react to fear or sadness with red hot anger. To be there to pick up the pieces when he enviably destroyed himself. A sword to his shield. Kirishima took a step forward.

"I think...I need a hug."

Kirishima blinked. He mustn't have heard it right. Surely. Nothing broke Bakugou down like that. Nothing messed him up so badly that he forgot those basic rules. That overly aggressive boundary setting. It's what made Bakugou, well, Bakugou.

Don't touch me. No hugs, no fucking pats on the shoulder. I'll burn your fucking hands off.

Kirishima had nodded, at the time, keen to have a friend that was entirely transparent. One that'd let him know what to do and kick him up the ass when he did it wrong.

"You what?" Soft, like he was afraid the real Bakugou would jump out from behind this decoy and yell 'gotcha', explosive voice and explosive hands and anything but this.

Bakugou cleared his throat, looking off past Kirishima's shoulder, brows furrowed as if he was shocked at his own words. As if he was trying to untangle the figurative knot his emotions had become.

"I think I need a hug, or something."

Kirishima stepped forward. Because of course he would. What was he if not a hero in the simplest sense. But Bakugou seemed to shatter like glass as soon as he moved, breaking down, more frantic, and Kirishima was bleeding from the shards but dove in head first because no one makes him cry like that.

"Eijiro I-I need ," ragged breath, heaving, "Can you please give me a hug. Please I-"

"Yes, yes, I've got you." Kirishima closed the distance, cut him off because begging would make his own tears flow. He opened up his arms, placed his hands over Bakugous' back without squeezing because he knew him. Bakugou gripped his shirt and breathed heavy and hard without tears, this weird mix of sad and angry, pressing his face into Kirishima's shoulder as if he'd never quite experienced this before.

Kirishima just stood there, allowed it, held him up to stop him from drowning in it all, and waited.

End