A/N: Hey, so I moved, and had another stint of writer's block, but guess what? I finally finished another chapter.
Also, we're getting closer to the end of this story, so that's exciting!
Warnings for this chapter: flashbacks, references to physical and emotional abuse
The next morning, Bakugou is, of course, the first one up. He's in the living room debating the repercussions of just quietly packing his things and sneaking away while everyone is asleep, when Kirishima rolls over and sits up, blinking his eyes tiredly.
He stands, and stumbles his way over to the couch to sit down next to Bakugou. "Sleep okay man?" He asks, voice subdued to avoid waking the others.
"Yeah, I did, thanks," Bakugou replies, matching his tone. And he wasn't lying. He had actually gotten some of the best sleep he'd had in awhile. They sit in amicable silence for a bit, before Kirishima inhales sharply.
"Hey Bakugou?" he starts, voice nervous. "You, um- thanks- I mean, I'm glad you could come. This was really fun!"
"S'alright," he responds, feeling awkward. He's not used to people being glad to spend time with him, not to mention having fun. "I-uh, had fun too." Stupid, what a lame response.
"Bakugou?" Kirishima balls up his fists, looking scared but determined.
"Yeah?" he grunts.
"Uh, I-I just wanted to tell you that, I really admire you," he isn't quite looking at Bakugou, and seems almost embarrassed. "The way that you stand up for yourself, and like how determined you are, is so manly! I just- you're gonna be an amazing pro-hero someday. In the top five at least, if not number one, I'm sure!"
Maybe it's cause he lost two hours of sleep, and is delirious, maybe it's the sincere look in Kirishima's eyes, or the way the other teen had stood up for him the night before, but Bakugou finds himself responding honestly.
"Yeah, maybe," he shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really feel like much of a hero right now."
"Well, we're still first-year students," Kirishima remarks. "Of course we still have a long way to go before we're really gonna feel like heroes, right?"
"Yeah, well, I've done some pretty stupid shit recently."
"We all make mistakes, man," Kirishima insists. "That doesn't disqualify us from being heroes!"
"I hurt someone, in a way that could have been permanent," he argues. "And I did it intentionally. That sound much like a hero to you?" Kirishima doesn't respond right away, looking for the right thing to say.
"You're just a kid," he finally speaks. "Look, something Mama always tells me when I mess stuff up, or hurt someone's feelings, intentionally or not, is that these are learning moments in our lives. That guilt you feel, that's eating you alive right now? That means that somewhere, deep down, you don't want to hurt people. This is your opportunity to grow. Apologize to whoever you hurt, and do your best not to hurt them again. That's what sets the heroes apart from villains. Not to mention, it's super manly."
"Is that your favorite word or something?" Bakugou responds with, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest, and the burning behind his eyes.
"What can I say?" he grins, all trace of seriousness gone from his expression. "I like manly things! Including, as we've already discussed, men." The expression on his face, and lighthearted tone, causes something to swirl in Bakugou's stomach, and for once, it isn't anger, or guilt, or that ever present self-hatred, but something lighter, something he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're insufferable," he snarks, but he doesn't mean it, and Kirishima knows it. There's a moment of silence, where Kirishima looks like he's at war with himself over whether he wants to say something or not.
"What?" Bakugou questions him.
"I was just wondering if maybe you-" He pauses. "Um- are you doing anything else this weekend?"
Say yes, Bakugou's mind whispers. He's trying to get you to hang out with him some more. You hate socializing, you don't want to make friends. Tell him you have other plans. Say yes, say yes, say-
"Nah," he shrugs. "Why?"
"Oh, well, I… was wondering if you wanted to stay at mine the rest of the weekend?" Kirishima still looks nervous. It should be grating, but on him it just looks… Well, it looks fine.
"Sure, why not?" he agrees mildly. "But tell the rest of these assholes I'm not staying up past my bedtime again."
"O-oh," Kirishima blinks a bit. "Um, sorry, I guess I should have specified. It-it would just be the two of us. Everyone else is going home after breakfast. I just- I wanted to have a chance to get to know you better. I mean, I've known the rest of these guys for forever. But that's like totally weird, and super presuming of me, sorry!" He chuckles nervously.
"I'm still not staying up past my bedtime," he grunts.
"So… you'll stay?" Kirishima looks hopeful.
"Got nothin' better to do," he shrugs. Kirishima grins like he's the sun reincarnate, and Bakugou has to hide his own smile.
The rest of the morning passes uneventfully, and by 2:00, everyone has left, Kirishima's moms are both at work, and he and Bakugou are sitting together in the living room, in easy silence, each scrolling on their phones. They've been scrolling for the last hour, and Bakugou has been growing increasingly restless.
"Hey!" he nudges Kirishima. "Wanna go for a run?"
"Now?" Kirishima raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Bakugou stares intensely. "What, something wrong with a midday jog?"
"No, no, no!" Kirishima insists quickly. "Nothing wrong with it! Just felt like the suggestion kinda came outta nowhere. I mean, we're doomscrolling," he explains. "That's usually at least a three hour trap, right?"
"Three hours?" Bakugou looks at him incredulously. "You're telling me you spend three hours a day scrolling on social media?"
"Uhh, no?" Kirishima looks at him sheepishly. "Three hours at a time, usually multiple times a day."
"When do you find time for that?" he stares at Kirishima in awestruck horror.
"I usually scroll when I get home from school, and then again before going to sleep," he responds, looking unsure of himself. "How- how long do you scroll every day?" he wonders.
"This has been the longest hour of my life," Bakugou deadpans. "And it's going to fuck up my screen-time stats."
"Oh," Kirishima looks impressed. "Well, sorry for messing with your stats, I guess," he apologizes casually.
"So?" he questions, ignoring the apology. "Are we going for a jog or not?"
"Ye- uh, yeah!" his face lights up again. "Sounds fun!"
"Just try and keep up," he snarks. "I'm not gonna adjust my pace for you if you're slow."
That was a lie, apparently, not that he would ever admit it to the other boy. Kirishima keeps up with him pretty well in the beginning, but it's clear they don't have nearly the same endurance. After about a minute of his friend lagging behind, he takes pity on him, and slows to match his pace.
"You… really do… this shit… for fun?" Kirishima gasps, face flushed and dripping with sweat.
Bakugou opens his mouth to make fun of him, but finds himself momentarily unable to speak, brain too caught up in staring at his friend.
"Bakugou?" Kirishima furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you staring at?"
"You're too slow!" he deflects loudly, picking up his pace again. "Keep up, loser!"
Holy shit. His brain screams loudly as he pounds accross the pavement. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Kirishima, drenched in sweat, is- Nope, he cuts himself off. Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you think that about your best friend?
That's going to stay locked up in box in his mind labled Thoughts and Feelings I am Absolutely not Going to Think About Today. Or Maybe Ever.
After a few minutes, he slows up again, letting Kirishima catch up.
"I can't believe you like this," Kirishima whines, once they're jogging side by side. "I'm gonna pass out, I swear."
"Relax," he rolls his eyes. "We're almost back to your house, you'll be fine."
True to his word, in a couple of minutes, they reach the house. Once inside, Kirishima flops on the couch dramatically, panting.
"Get up," Bakugou prods his leg with a sharp finger.
"Whyyy?" Kirishima pouts.
"Because, you need to stretch out, or you're going to have some very sore muscles tomorrow," Bakugou rolls his eyes.
"That- actually makes a lot of sense," Kirishima admits, sounding defeated. He rolls off the couch, and follows Bakugou's lead, stretching out his legs, ankles, and shoulders. Afterwards, he sits on the ground, legs crossed, and sighs.
"I feel really good, actually," he exclaims in surprise, after a few moments of companionable silence. "I don't know how to explain it but my thoughts are like… less? I think? Like I usually have so many thoughts happening all at once, but now it's quieter."
"Yeah," Bakugou snarks. "It's amazing what happens when you put down your phone and go outside."
"Now you sound like my grandma," he huffs.
"Well then she's a smart person," Bakugou shrugs.
They take turns showering, then eat a snack in the kitchen, waiting for Kirishima's moms to come home from work. Dinner is simple, but delicious, and the time they all spend together is amicable.
After dinner, they go into Kirishima's room, and Bakugou pulls out his school books, intent on doing his homework, while Kiri pulls out his phone to doomscroll again.
"Don't you have homework to do?" he stares at the red-haired boy.
"Uhh, maybe," he shrugs. "I dunno."
"We're in the same classes," Bakugou crosses his arms. "I know you at least have math homework, and I'm sure you still have to work on our research essay for Mr. Aizawa's lecture on quirk discrimination, right?"
"It's only Saturday," Kirishima shrugs again. "I'll have time to finish it later."
"Nuh, uh," Bakugou steals his phone. "Get your math worksheet out. We're doing it now." It looks like he's about to argue, but Bakugou stares determinedly at him, until his shoulders droop and he reaches for his school bag dejectedly.
They're working side-by-side, in relative silence, when Kirishima sighs frustratedly.
"I hate math," he whines. "None of it makes sense, there's too many numbers, and they all start to just sort of blend together until I can't do anything. I think I'm just… too dumb to learn math, man."
"Lemme see," Bakugou swipes his worksheet. "Where are you getting stuck?"
"At the beginning, basically," he moans. "I don't understand how I can add that shit together. How much is X worth? Like what number does it represent?"
"That's the fuckin' point of the problem, dumbass," Bakugou shakes his head. "You're trying to find out what number X is in place of."
"How do I do that?" he wonders, sounding glum.
"Here, think of the problem like this," he grabs a sheet of scrap paper drawing out a diagram. "I have a box with three circles, right? And then I have a box, but I don't know how many circles are in there. If I dump both of those boxes into one, that box will have five circles in it. Three from the one I know how many were in, and then how many more from the other box?"
"Uhh, two?" he answers hesitantly.
"Right," Bakugou nods. "Now look back at the problem: 3X=5. What is X?"
"Two?" He sounds a little more sure this time.
"Exactly." Bakugou smiles. "Now, the way you figure this out on more complicated ones is basically just simple arithmetic. Here, I'll show you." He demonstrates with a couple of the problems, then has Kirishima do one on his own. After a bit, he smiles brightly.
"Wait, I get it!" He remarks excitedly. "Oh my god, bro, this makes soooo much more sense! Dude, you literally just saved my life."
"You're not dumb, y'know?" Bakugou tells him.
"Ha," Kirishima nudges him. "You're too kind, sir."
"I'm serious," he insists firmly. "You're really smart. Your performance in school doesn't necessarily reflect your intelligence. School is taught the same way for every single student, it makes sense that some students would fall behind if that way of teaching doesn't work for their brain."
"Thanks," he smiles nervously. "It means a lot, especially coming from you."
"Why? Cause I'm normally mean and demeaning?" Bakugou snarks.
"I- wha- n-no!" he stammers. "I mean, I just- you're so cool, and like really, really smart, and I- It just makes a compliment from you feel, I dunno, special?" he scratches the back of his neck nervously.
They both stare at each other for a moment, before Kirishima's hand brushes up against Bakugou's.
"Sorry," he apologizes, pulling his hand away, still nervous. Bakugou is the first to look away, clearing his throat awkwardly, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
"Wanna watch a movie?" he finally asks, once he's able to get his heart under control.
"Sure!" Kirishima agrees. "How about Black Panther 2? Have you seen that one yet?"
"Is that one of those American superhero movies?" Bakugou wonders.
"Uhh, yeah, you know, Marvel Studios? The Marvel Cinematic Universe?"
"I've never seen any of them," Bakugou shrugs.
"You haven't seen any of them?" Kirishima looks aghast. "Okay, we're fixing this, immediately. Sit down, we're watching Iron Man."
"I thought we were watching Black Panther." He comments.
"Dude, you can't just watch Black Panther," Kirishima protests. "You have to watch the movies in order. They all lead into one another. There's like at least five movies that happen before that one." Bakugou shrugs again.
"All right. You're the expert, I guess."
The movie is pretty good, at first. Bakugou is really, genuinely enjoying himself, and the action holds his attention well.
And then, the bad guys start torturing Tony Stark. He's held underwater, until he's struggling to breathe, and then, all of a sudden, Bakugou's breath catches. He remembers flashes, being angry, and yelling, and then the sudden terror as sludge covers his mouth, cutting off his air supply, the violation as it seeps past his lips to sink down his throat. Gasping for air, choking, clawing at the monster vainly, trying to get even a little bit of air into his lungs. Nobody's helping him.
Nobody is helping him, he's going to die.
"Katsuki!" a concerned voice finally breaks through his thoughts. He gazes around wildly, drawing in shallow, gasping breaths. He reaches his hands up and scrubs the tears, wait, tears? When did he start crying?
"Kats, you with me?" Kirishima watches him carefully, the nickname slipping out casually.
"Fuck, sorry," he mutters, hands gripping his hair and tugging.
"Hey, bro, you okay?" Kirishima murmurs cautiously.
"M'fine," he grunts. "Stupid."
"Hey, no," Kirishima shook his head. "You're fine. This shit happens."
"You think this shit is normal?" he bites bitterly.
"It's normal when you have trauma to have certain things bring that up, yes," Kirishima insists. "Talking about it usually helps, sometimes more casually, sometimes with a professional-"
"The fuck are you, a walking encyclopedia?" Bakugou derides.
"S-sorry," Kirishima looks away bashfully. "I- got really into human psychology a couple of years ago."
"God," Bakugou shakes his head. "You're- you're hopeless nearly all of the time, and then you pull shit like this out."
"Hey!" Kirishima protests. "I do pretty okay in most of my subjects, I just hate math. And science. And essay writing, but everyone hates essay writing," he pauses for a moment, and then adds. "Well, and I have trouble with English class sometimes, but- Well, okay, I guess I do kinda struggle in school, but still."
"Well, at least you can exist without freaking out all the time, over dumb shit," Bakugou shrugs. Things go quiet for a few minutes, both boys lost in thought.
"I still have flashbacks to my dad sometimes," Kirishima finally speaks, his voice subdued and a little shaky. "What he did to my mom and I, really fucked me up. I used to get anxious every time I saw someone move my direction out of the corner of my eye. One time, my mom tried to give me a hug, and I guess I must have had a flashback or something, because the next thing I knew, I was being held in my mom's arms while she waited for me to come back to myself. I had hardened out of instinct to defend myself. My mom's lucky her quirk allows her to harden parts of her body, otherwise she would have had a lot more than just a black eye that day." Silence falls again, as Bakugou processes the information.
"Last summer," he speaks quietly, slowly revealing new information. "I was attacked." Kirishima doesn't rush him, just sitting and listening attentively. "The villain was some kind of- slime-sludge type thing. He… covered my mouth and nose, and I couldn't-" his voice strains and cuts off. "The movie- they-" He falls silent, pulling at his hair again.
"How long were you- trapped before the heroes could get there?" Kirishima wondered.
"They- it was a while before someone helped me," Bakugou admits. "No one knew what to do, so they just kinda… stood around. It wasn't until-" he cuts off again. Not ready to talk about Deku's involvement.
"That's… awful!" Kirishima looks shocked. "I can't believe they just stood there. You needed help. Heroes are supposed to help! I'm so sorry that happened to you, Bakugou. That wasn't fair."
I can't believe you had to get rescued by the heroes like some kind of damsel in distress Katsuki. How can you expect to be a hero someday when you can't even protect yourself? Huh?
He looks over at Kirishima. Maybe it's the time of night, or maybe his emotions are just too raw, but he feels a wall slowly crumble within him.
"My mom said it was my fault," he admits, still quiet. "Told me I should have been able to defend myself," he chuckles humorlessly. "Matter of fact, she even said I deserved it. And then, Dek- Midorya got accepted into the hero course. I was so angry, I told him to jump off the roof. Aizawa told my parents, and they, uh, kicked me out."
"Wait, your parents kicked you out?" Kirishima looks aghast. "Do you need a place to stay?"
"I've been living with Midorya," he reassures him. "Pretty pathetic, huh? I'm so awful my own parents can't stand me."
"Dude, you are literally the coolest person I know!" Kirishima disagrees. "You're brave, and confident, and like, super strong."
Bakugou stares at him, the glow of his bedroom lights illuminating his face. His eyes drift to the teen's lips, and his breath catches.
"Bakugou?" Kirishima looks confused. "Are you all right?"
He doesn't respond right away, but continues to stare as his mind drifts, imagining catching Kirishima's lip in his. He wonders what it would feel like. Would they be soft? Rough? Before he realizes what has happened, he's subconsciously moved closer.
Kirishima's breath is soft and easy against his face, but Bakugou swears he can feel it quicken slightly.
"Bakugou?" Kirishima whispers. He doesn't respond, and Kirishima moves imperceptibly closer. Bakugou doesn't move away, and Kirishima finally closes the distance between them, catching his lips in a soft, hesitant kiss.
The contact is enough to shake Bakugou to awareness again and he pulls away abruptly.
"Sorry," Kirishima apologizes quickly. "That was-"
Bakugou cuts him off, by catching his lips again, This time kissing him more firmly, deepening the pressure. When they finally pull away again, his heart is pounding, roaring in his ears.
"I'm sorry," Kirishima apologizes again. "I should have asked before-"
"Shut up," Bakugou silences him. "It was fine."
"Okay," he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Um, I-I think I like you," his voice is contained. "And you don't have to say it back or anything, but I just wanted to tell you, be-"
"I like you too, dumbass," Bakugou interrupts his ramble. "Now come over here and kiss me again."
"Okay," Kirishima blinks for a moment, before closing the distance between them again.
As their lips crash together for the third time that night, Bakugou thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, something in his life is working out in his favor.