During a drunken game night, Bakugou is dared to call and confess to his crush. He’s no coward, so ofc he’s not going to refuse. Not even if said crush is sitting right across from him, oblivious as ever as he looks at baku with big stupid eyes and a lopsided, slightly tipsy grin

pg-13 I guess?? (SFW but adult themes like drinking and such)
#krbk
Aged up characters
Pinning, confessions, lots fluff and stupidity
This my first thread so like...be gentle with me lmao

“I don’t know how the hell I let you people rope me into this.” Bakugou grumbles into his bottle of beer as he takes a heavy and much needed swig, dark eyes already narrowed into an infamous scowl despite only having been in his friends presence for a half hour at best.

He plops down on the tattered old couch that claims Denki’s living room, frown immediately deepening as glances over the horribly obscene and discolored patchwork. He’s fairly certain it was found on the side of the road somewhere, and he mentally contemplates if it’s worth-

—transitioning to the floor instead. Comfort weighing over his disgust, Bakugou settles into the cushion. “And why the hell do you keep letting dunce face host? His place is a fuckin ratsnest!”

“Because you’re too much of a brat to let us do this at your place anymore.” Mina smirks. You break /one/ expensive vase in the Katsuki Bakugou household and suddenly you’re banned for life.

“And you say that literally every time, loser. When are you going to quit your bitching and just admit you like game night just as much as the rest of us? If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here.” Mina snorts and ruffles the blondes hair as she passes behind the couch.

The action, of course, earns a curse and a middle finger thrown her way. Unphased, a mischievous glint flickers through dark eyes as she matches Bakugou gesture with two middle fingers of her own, upstaging him.

Bakugou clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth with an agitated ‘tsk’, and has the audacity to actually look offended.

“Fuck off, I’m only here for the free alcohol. Which I’m going to need more of for whatever childish bullshit you people have planned!” He huffs an indignant little noise through his nose, but his rebuttal lacks the usual venom it would of had back when they were kids.

After polishing off the remainder of his drink, Bakugou slams the bottle down onto the coffee table and kicks his feet up with a overdramatic amount of aggression.

Mina merely rolls her eyes in response to the tantrum. Well versed in the language of Bakugou by now, she knows better than to take him seriously.

Regardless of whether or not their resident hothead admitted it, everyone knows he enjoys what little time they could all spend together. Game night had become a tradition between them since their first year at U.A, and was something that stuck well after everyone graduated.

Things were often times hectic, as to be expected of an entire generation of growing heroes, but at least once every other week for the past six years Mina, Sero, Kaminari, Kiri and Bakugou(though he may argue he has no part in the matter) made time to get together and remanence-

over videogames and a good drink. Or in some cases, several.

Often, they also tried to get the entire class back together; whether it be a movie night or a casual dinner at one of their favorite hole in the wall restaurants. But game night? That was strictly a ‘bakugsquad’ tradition.

“She’s right, man.” it’s Sero who enters the living room next, with Kaminari trotting in from the kitchen close behind, a bowl of chips in hand. “You /willingly/ drove all the way out here knowing Kami was hosting so stop complaining just to hear yourself talk. You love us~”

Sero cooes the last part of his sentence and plops down right beside the blonde, slinging an arm around the couch and barring a smile so smug and uncaring to the absolutely demonic look that Bakugou was throwing his way.

“I will end your fucking bloodline, soy sauce.” Bakugou threatens, palms sparking to life. His voice is eerily leveled dispite the murder in his eyes.

“Dude, you’ve been saying that since we were kids. Do it already you p—“

Sero only had but a millisecond before Bakugou was on him, all sparks and yells and a colorful array of curses. He wrestles with his former classmate, Seros unabashed laughter only fueling Bakugou’s tantrum.

A scorch mark eventually lands itself against the couch cushion but Kami can hardly bring himself to care.

Not when he almost short circuits while he watches the mess beside him unfold, clutching his aching sides and ultimately leaving Mina to get the door when a familiar knock cuts through all the commotion.

She shakes her head like that of a mother with disappointing children and pads over to the door. A smile quickly splits across delicate features when she swings it open to see a familiar head of obnoxiously red hair. “Kiri!”

“Oh thank god you’re finally here. You know I can’t be left alone with these idiots for too long!” Her chuckle is well meaning as she gives her friend a welcoming hug, before moving to the side to let him in.

“Oh you’re one to fucking talk, black eyes. You’ve had one brain cell since we were in highschool and you share it with them.” Bakugou cuts in. He removes Sero from the headlock he had him trapped in, then pushes him away and onto the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Stepping over Sero’s body, Bakugou rolls shoves his eyes and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, before sauntering over to the kitchen to grab another beer.

“Hey! Rude!” Mina scoffs, feigning offense.

Kirishima snorts, his own fit of laughter bubbling from the depths of his chest, infectious. “Yeah sorry to keep you guys waiting. It’s starting to storm again so the roads are crazy.”

He smiles and dusts himself free of the thin laying of snow that adorns his jacket, then embraces Mina the best he can with one arm, the other holding onto some kind of tray haphazardly wrapped in foil.

Politely kicking his shoes off the moment he steps inside,he nudges them neatly in the corner by the door.

Red eyes meet with Bakugou’s briefly when he ventures into the kitchen to set down what he brought, and Bakugou wonders if that smile had brightened a little upon seeing him or if it was just his imagination.

He allows himself to think the former.

(( I’m sorry In advance for typos btw guys. I’m typing this on my phone but I’m trying ><))

The redhead approaches Bakugou with a playful punch to the shoulder and some cheesy greeting, bright as the sun just like always. It causes a sudden and unwelcome warmth to pool into confines of the blonde’s chest.

Bakugou huffs, and decides to blame the feeling on the too-hot- space heater buzzing lowly in the corner of the living room. He’s been around Kirishima’s magnetic presence for years now and it never seems to get any easier; every bright smile and warm laugh draws +

+ him impossibly closer, sending a conflict of emotions stirring around in his heart.

He brushes the feelings to the side for now, though, refusing to dwell on them tonight. Refusing to take bait.
Instead, he’ll focus on shitty board games and the company of his friends..

“I just...I just want someone I can fart in front of you know? ‘Cuz like... that’s trust!” Mina whines, voice slightly slurred and sounding absolutely heartbroken.

She hugs a pillow close to her body and nurses on whatever boozy concoction she had made for herself. Alcohol fueled tears brim in her eyes.

Somewhere along the way (and several drinks in) the group had transitioned from Mario Kart, to twister, to some stupid, drunken version of truth or dare.

+Sero had landed on Mina, who ultimately decided to go with truth. Feeling brave, the tape hero had foolishly asked her what she looks for in a partner, and it was all downhill from there.

Kaminari’s shoulders shake with effort not to burst into another laughing fit , while sero nods his head and raises his drink in agreement to her, his arm thrown over Mina’s shoulder. “That’s /big/ trust!”

Bakugou, who had ended up migrating to the floor, scoffs and rolls his eyes at how absurd the entire conversation is. It's hardly the weirdest thing spoken between them, but it’s ridiculous nonetheless. He had forgot how much of a dramatic drunk Mina is.

Rubbing his thumb aimlessly around the empty cup in his hand, the chatter of his former classmates starts to feel distant as Bakugou’s attention is drawn to Kirishima for the umptenth time that night.

Crimson eyes watch a smile splits across his face again in response to something Denki had said, lopsided but wide enough so reach his eyes and showcase the dimples on either side of his cheeks.

He loves seeing Kirishima like this; so vulnerable and relaxed and /happy/. Though one could argue Kirishima is almost always in a stellar mood, It’s a fucking gorgeous site, one that Bakugou can’t help but yearn to capture and store it in his mind for safe keeping.

Meanwhile, Mina takes a steady breath to collect herself, wipes the tears from her eyes, and forces on a look of pure determination. “Okay, guys, okay. I’m good. I’m good. It’s my turn to spin so let’s do this!”

Staring at the empty beer bottle on the floor, Mina spins it, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out in the corner.

She watches with a comical amount of intensity as it spins and spins and spins, before finally settling on a certain spikey haired blonde who didn’t seem to be paying the least bit of attention.

And he wasn’t, not really. Kirishima was still heavy on his mind and he hadn’t even registered the bottle was pointing at him until Mina’s too excitable, too high pitched squeal violently broke him out of his thoughts.

Bakugou jolts, hands rushing over his ears on instinct. “Fucking hell black eyes what the—“

“Bakugouuuu!! Yes! Okay, truth or dare!?” She questions enthusiastically. She’s practically vibrating like a kid whose parents let her have too much candy.

Except candy was replaced with vodka and apparently Bakugou was the fucking parent.

Bakugou grimaces, glaring over at Sero with the ‘cut her the fuck off’ look. Used to this, the cellophane hero was way ahead of it, having already snuck away to replace Mina’s plastic cup with another filled with water just few minutes ago.

Ashio hardly seemed to notice as she took another sip, then inches closer to Bakugou as she stared at him expectantly. Bakugou groans, albeit overdramatic, even for him. Six years and he still doesn’t know why he assiosistes himself with this fucking ridiculous extras.

“This is so fucking stupid. Fine. Dare or whatever. Let’s just get this shit over with.” He finally answers.

The entire group looks far too exhilarated by his choice.

Bakugou immediately feels regret pool into gut.

Everyone grins and rushes over to whisper something in Ashido’s ear, hurried and too low for Bakugou to catch. It’s Pikachu who apparently suggests something worthwhile though, because the smile that parts Mina’s lips is utterly unnerving.

“Oi! Don’t let that electric bastard give you any fucking ideas!! Ashido!”

But it’s too late. He can tell. He’s going to have to lick Denki’s gross ass stupid ass couch cushion, or eat some foul shit in his fridge because he’s a fucking man child who doesn’t know how to grocery+

shop and lets food rot in there for weeks. And he’ll do it. Because a dare is a dare and he’s not a fucking pussy. Fuck.

Bakugou can already see his future; hunched over a toilet throwing up for days because his friends are pack of sadistic little shi—

“I dare you to call you crush and confess!!”

...hah?!?

The blonde can feel his heart rate thrum rapidly in his ears, and heat suddenly engulfs him in a full body flush, despite his best efforts at seeming unaffected. All eyes on him, paired with shit eating grins.

Except for Kirishima.

Bakugou doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to meet his eyes lest he give himself away so easily.

But he can’t help himself—his gaze shifts to meet with the redhead’s; his smile is lopsided and wide, but not quite big enough to reach his eyes this time, Katsuki can’t help but notice.

Its lacking that bright and easy going luster it had throughout the night, and there’s something that flickers behind his eyes that Bakugou can't quite describe.

“This is fuckin’ stupid. What are you twelve??” Bakugou finally manages once he finds voice. A grimace splits his features as he tears his attention away from Kirishima.

He should have fucking known they’d come up with some elementary level bullshit like this.

The last time they managed to play any type of dare related game, Kami damn near got sent to the hospital after being pressured to see how much cinnamon he could “deepthroat” in one setting.

Bakugou has no right to act surprised by this, honestly.

“Oh c’mon guys, leave him alone.” It’s Kirishima who actually speaks up, whatever odd look that had been in his eyes earlier now gone just that quickly.

The redhead downs what little was left of the drink in his hand, and a small laugh rolls off his tongue—soft and easygoing and only a little bit tipsy.

“Bakugou doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do. If he’s too /scared/ to call his crush then let him pick something else to...” He taunts.

He fucking /taunts./

Smug and infuriating in a way only Kirishima would ever be allowed to get away with. And he /knows/ it.

He knows that had it been Soy sauce or Black eyes or Pikachu or any other extra to insinuate he was scared of /anything/ they’d be sent barreling in the cheap dry wall of the apartment without a moment's hesitation.

Katsuki blinks, dumbfounded by not only by the absolute /audacity/ Kirishima had to tease him, but the sheer amount of obliviousness he was showcasing. The bastard really didn’t have a goddamn clue, did he?

The entirety of their drunk little group erupts in a fit of giggles and a chorus of “OOOOOH!!” In response to Kirishima’s teasing, and the corner of Kirishima’s lips dare to quirk into a sharp smirk as crimson eyes bore straight into Bakugou’s own, determined and unabashed.

It’s the same kind of look he gave Bakugou their first time working together back at the sport festival at UA.

The same look he gave him to light a fire under his ass during their missions together on the field.

It’s the same look, Bakugou’s now come to realize, that’s dragged him helplessly underneath Kirishima’s spell—it’s grasp tight and unyielding around his heart for over six years.

Suddenly, whatever hesitation Bakugou was harboring fizzles out and resolve settles in its place.

Fuck it.

Katsuki Bakugou didn’t run away from a Goddamn thing. Not anymore.

“You think I’m scared of some elementary school level dare, shitty hair?” Bakugou growls, jaw tight. He’s thankful he doesn’t sound nearly as tense as he feels. At least, he hopes he doesn’t.

Staring dead into Kirishima's eyes, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and dials a number.

“Oh shit!!”

“Duuuuude no fuckin way! A bitch really going for it!

“Shhhhh Denki shut them fuck up I can’t hear! Bakugou put it on speaker!!!”

“I FUCKING AM. GIVE ME A SECOND! GOD.”

You can practically feel the anticipation buzz like an electric current through the air as Bakugou sets his phone on speaker, per request.

Everyone’s staring at him, the room uncharacteristically quiet when it rings once...then twice….

Then, suddenly, four pairs of eyes simultaneously lock on Kirishima when his obnoxious ringtone breaks through the heavy tension in the air.

Kirishima looks at them, confused, then blinks stupidly as he fishes the device out from his pocket. His brows furrow, head tilted slightly to the side.

Bakugou’s caller ID stares back at him in bold letters.

“....Bakugou? Heh, dude you know you’re calling me, right?” The redhead chuckles, still looking confused as he looks up from his phone to stare at Bakugou, whose crimson eyes were boring into his own with a level of intensity Kirishima only ever saw during the heat of battle.

“I...but? You’re suppose to call someone you like…? I mean...like y’know….’like like’...” Kirishima fumbles.

Bakugou’s stare only hardens, impossibly sharp. “Yeah…I know.”

Kirishima seems at a loss for words; his mouth agape, a hand raking itself through spiky hair. And then…

He laughs.

It’s something so small and uncharacteristically...bitter, and Bakugou can feel his entire stomach sink like he just took a verticals dip down a rollercoaster.

Bakugou’s hands shake as they grip onto his thighs,the blunt of his nails digging anxiously into the fabric.

“What so funny?”The question comes out...tense, rigid as broken glass; and his eyes were still locked on Kirishima’s, who averts his gaze and rubs the back of his neck.

“T-this? All of this? D-dude, I mean, I get it. I-I was trying to play along and be supportive and stuff...and know were all kinda drunk and you guys like to mess with me a lot but this kind of thing really isn’t funny…..” Kirishima huffs, clearing his throat in a clear attempt-

-to keep his voice steady. “ Its just..it’s..”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything at first, the entire room falling into sudden silence. The air is tense, thick and unbreathable, and it’s almost damn near overwhelming.

Scratch that, it’s /entirely/ too overwhelming.

Did Kirishima really think he was fucking joking about this? Was he that disgusted by the thought of Bakugou having feelings for him that he thought, dear god, it was just a stupid prank to mess with him or something?

Tears burn hot and violent behind Bakugou’s eyes, but he doesn’t dare allow them to fall. Intead, he stands, snatches his jacket from it’s spot on the couch and croaks out an barely audible “I gotta go,” before heading for the door, ignoring Kirishima’s please for him to stop.

The force of the door slamming shut is enough to rattle the walls, but once that settles, the silence is deafening.

Fuck.

Sighing heavily, Kirishima buries his face in his hands before muttering out a string of curses.

“Well...that was awkward. Dude, I can’t believe you just laughed at him like that…” Sero is the first to break the uncomfortable silence. His dark eyes stare at his friend with a frown, and he moves from his spot on the loveseat to sit closer to him.

Kiri’s face is pale when he removes himself from his hands, eyes wide as though he had been struck. “What? N-no! I wasn’t...I wasn’t laughing /at/ him!! It’s just...guys you how I feel about Bakugou. You know how much I…” He trails off, frowning.

“I /know/ Bakugou doesn’t actually like me. Putting him up to that just to tease me wasn’t funny, okay? It hurt…” The redhead averts his again eyes, suddenly finding the floor far more interesting than any of his friends.

But, then, a solid punch straight to the chest as him bringing his attention back to them. “Ow! Mina!? What the hell that hurt—OW!”

“Eijirou…I love you more than life itself but holy shit you really are so stupid sometimes.” The woman punches him again, somehow even harder than before, then pinches the bridge of her nose in utter frustration.

These idiots were going to give her grays before she hit thirty.

Kirishima frowns and rubs the sore spot on his chest, unable to help the red that dusts the apples of his cheeks. He gapes, opening his mouth to defend himself, but Kaminari cuts him off before he has the chance.

“Dude...think hard. This is Bakugou we’re talking about. Has he ever bullshitted anything?? He’s an asshole, yeah, but you gotta admit his word his golden. He doesn’t lie about shit, and he doesn’t make stuff up…not even for a game.”

Kirishima’s brows knit together. He was-

right. One of Bakugou’s best and most admirable strengths, at least in his opinion, was his brutal honesty and his ability to be straightforward without fear or hesitation. “But…”

“But nothing, man. We know how you feel about Bakugou, dumbass. But we also know how he feels about you….” Sero cuts in. He shakes his head with long, tired sigh that makes Kirishima want to shrink.

“We’ve all known since what? First year of highschool? But you’ve both been stupid oblivious this entire time! We didn’t put him up to anything to mess with you. But, hell, we did think this would be a good opportunity for him to finally get on with it and tell you! We

are all kinda sick of sitting around waiting for your dumbasses to do something yourselves.”

Kami and Ashido both give a firm nod in agreement, and Kirishima blanches.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He just fucking rejected the love of his life’s confession.

“Oh god. I gotta...I gotta go!!” Raking a hand through his hair, Kiri makes a beeline for the door, not even bothering to grab his jacket or shoes for that matter before bolting outside and into the snowy streets of japan.

Katuski Bakugou was never one to take rejection lightly, but this...this was something else. This stung— viscous and deep like a blistering knife wound straight through the gut. Which he’s gotten before, for the record. But, somehow, this felt far more painful than even that.

Every step he took leaves him feeling hollow and bleeding out, and the tears in his eyes burn hot streaks against his skin when they roll down his cheeks and gather at his chin.

He hates it. He hates how weak, pathetic and little he feels. Because he shouldn’t care. If Kirishima didn’t share his feelings, who gives a fuck? That’s life, and Kirishima doesn’t owe him shit.

But still...the mere idea that he just ruined whatever he and Kirishima had, platonic or otherwise, left a vile feeling in his stomach that made him want to run into the nearest ally way and throw up what little he had in his stomach.

Whatever.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters. He was a fool for thinking that confession would have any other outcome, really.

Hands shoved firmly in his pockets, Bakugou glares down at his feet as he stalks the mostly abandoned roads. It’s far too late for anyone to really be out, which he’s thankful for. Last thing he needs is for someone to see a drunken, sulking hero walking through the streets—

BAKUGOU…!”

The man freezes at the sound of his name. Jaw tight and shoulders hunched, he turns his head with a glare that somehow still manages to soften in the slightest when he sees a head of stupid read hair barreling in his direction.

Kirishima gasps for breath when he comes to a sudden halt in front of Bakugou, looking out of breath and struggling only a little.

“Shi—Kirishima?” Brows furrowed, Bakugou looks the other up and down (twice) before a deep frown settles onto his features. “The fuck are your shoes? It’s fucking freezing out here dumbass! Jesus Christ. ” Exasperated, Bakugou makes a move to take off his jacket

since the idiot didn’t seem to have that either, but thought better against it. One normally wouldn’t give a shit about the well being of a man who just fucking broke their heart.

Yet here he is, shattered and angry at the world but still wanting to swaddle Kirishima in warmth so he doesn’t catch his death of cold.

Pathetic.

“Not...important ...look w-we need to talk.” Kirishima responds, still slightly out of breath. He's leaning over with his hands on his knees, and mentally makes a note to bring more cardio into his workout routines.

When he sits up straight, he stares at Bakugou, expression serious before suddenly shifting into something like guilt.

Katsuki immediately blanches as his appearance suddenly registers; puffy eyed, red nosed and sniffling like some little bitch.

He knows it wouldn’t be believable to blame it on the cold either, so he doesn’t. The blonde merely growls, low and throaty, and shifts his gaze to the side with an annoyed ‘tsk’.

“Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to come out here to apologize or some shit. I’m a grown ass man

and I can handle a rejection.” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet toward the end, and the utter hurt that Kirishima can hear in his tone destroys him from the inside out.

“So if you don’t mind, I’d like to lick my fucking wounds in peace. Just leave me the fuck alone for a few days and i—“

“N-no! Katsuki, listen, that’s what I need to talk to you about.” Kirishima’s tone is...soft, pleading. Bakugou swallows against the thick lump in his throat

when the redhead takes his wrist into hand, wanting to tear it away but somehow being completely unable to. The sound of his given name coming from the other’s lips sends an unbidden shiver down down his spine, and those stupid red eyes have him frozen in place.

“L-look...about earlier, I’m so sorry. I was just thrown off guard and...” Kiri flushes, all stutters and falling over his words. This really shouldn’t be as hard as it is, and Kirishima knows it. Katsuki’s feelings had just been laid bare and out in the open just moments prior,

and yet he still struggled to just fuckin spill it already.

Bakugou glares, blowing an indignant huff through his nose. He tears out of the redhead’s grip all the sudden and brushes past him when it seems like he’s struggling too hard to let him down easy or something.

“I told you it’s fucking fine, Kirishima. You don’t like me, I got it. You don’t owe me an explanation. Now go back to the apartment before you get hypothermia, fucking dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, shoving his hands back into his pockets as he began to walk away again.

Kirishima frowns and grabs at Bakugou’s sleeve with both hands. He holds on tightly, absolutely refusing to let him escape. “N-no! It’s not fine! Because look, you’re right okay? I don’t like you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou blinks, frowns, then turns to stare at the redhead with fury and embarrassment lighting being his eyes in a dangerously heated glare. Was he/trying/ to hurt him? “Eijirou—”

“I-I love you!” Kiri blurts out before Bakugou can finish. He takes a second to swallow the lump in his throat, but when he speaks again his voice is as steady and serious as he can possibly make it. “Well...in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, man.”

There’s a sudden stillness in the silence that follows. Where the already desolate roads seem even quieter, and the world around them suddenly comes to a stop.

The only indication that time itself didn’t freeze over is the blinking red traffic light illuminating the side of Katuski’s face, and the feathery snow gathering on the thick of his brows—which were furrowed together in an impossibly attractive look of confusion.

Despite the uncertainty and anger dancing in Katuski’s eyes, the redhead can’t remember a time he wanted to lean in and kiss him more than he did right then.

But when the seconds tick by like hours and Bakugou still hasn’t said anything, Kirishima can’t help but feel anxious.

He swallows against the thickness he feels stuck to the back of his throat, sweat lining his forehead despite the chill in the air.

Nervously, he watches as Bakugou’s mouth opens then closes a few times over, then huffs. “Then...what the hell was that back at the apartment?” He finally questions, sounding annoyed. “I fucking tell you I like you and you laugh at me you bastard.”

Gaze shifting off to the side, the blonde’s hands form into fist beside him in a clear indication that he’s trying not to get angry again.

“I thought...I thought you were messing with me, man.” Kirishima admits. He has the audacity to look sheepish, and he can tell by the shaking in his shoulders and the suddenly feral look in his eyes that Bakugou is using every once of will his body owns to keep from—

—blasting him into a nearby building.

“Why in the hell would I ever joke around about something like that, shitty hair?” Bakugou speaks slow, forcibly keeping his voice steady.

Kirishima swallows against another lump in his throat.

There’s something unnerving about seeing a person—especially a person like Katuski Bakugou— /look/ angrier than the devil himself but sound so...calm at the same time.

It had a way of making Kirishima feel like his time on earth is suddenly very limited.

“I-I don’t know, okay! I mean, you wouldn’t. I know that now. It’s just...hell man, you’re Ground Zero for crying out loud! You could have anyone!”

Kirishima knew that wasn’t much of an answer, that it hardly made any type of sense. But it sums his feelings up the best, really.

Though Eijirou’s confidence is much more than it was when he was a kid, there was still a lingering part of him that thought Bakugou could do so much better.

Deserved so much better.

Bakugou blinks, anger dying down to a slow ember behind his eyes and something like shock smoldering it altogether. He crosses his arm under the broad of his chest with a low ‘tch’, and if Kirishima didn’t know any better, he’d say the blonde was blushing.

“I...but you said you liked me since highschool...why didn’t you just be a man and tell me back then, you idiot?”

Kirishima worries his bottom lip, quiet. Fuck. How did he even answer a question that loaded?

Back at U.A, Kirishima knew how important becoming a hero was to Katsuki. He put his blood sweat and tears into his work just like any of them did, but there was that determination that absolutely refused to be detoured, refused to allow any form of distraction in its way.

Bakugou just /barely/ gave himself the right to have friends (though, one could argue that was pretty much forced on him) and Kirishima didn’t want to be the reason he lost even an ounce of focus.

But even still, his hesitation didn’t exactly stop Kirishima from...testing the waters. The study sessions he asked for even when he stopped needing them, the late night phone calls that lasted hours on the nights neither of them could find sleep.

The early morning workouts he got up at the ass crack of dawn for because that’s when Katsuki normally liked to work out and who was he to get in the way of his bro’s normal routine, right?

He would shrug and tell anyone that asked that he simply preferred to get a head start on the day. Which was partially true, of course (because lying wouldn’t be manly!) but really, he just loved spending time alone with Katsuki.

It always felt more intimate than it actually was, looking back. He would jog beside him, with Bakugou hyper focused on the track in front of him while headphones blared into his ears.

Meanwhile Kirishima’s focus was solely on the blonde; watching with adoration at the way his breath would fog against the chill of the morning air, or how the rising sun cast such a lovely glow over ivory skin.

And when that same sunlight hit his eyes, Kirishima could see notes of brown speckled in with crimson red.

Gods, it was the most beautiful thing Kirishima had ever seen.

Once they graduated, their friendship never stopped, obviously, but Kirishima didn’t put as much effort into advancing his feelings.

They were onto bigger things now, and had even more to focus on than ever.

Besides, his (not so) little crush on Bakugou seemed to be obvious as ever to literally everyone else back at school. Kirishima figured that if Bakugou didn’t catch on by third year, he simply wasn’t interested. It hurt, but Kirishima wanted to respect that boundary.

“I tried man. I-in little ways, I guess. But when you weren’t picking up on them I didn’t want to force it, y’know? I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. Why...didn’t /you/ ever say anything?” Asks Kirishima, rubbing awkwardly at his arm.

He looks at Bakugou who seems to fluster in response, already rosy cheeks somehow gaining color as if not expecting to have the question thrown back at him. He huffs, kicking at the ground and averting his eyes for a moment in an (adorable) display of sudden bashfulness.

“I…” the blonde trails off, something between a huff and a growl rumbling in his throat.

Little did Kirishima know that the ways he had tried to share his feelings were the same ways Katuski had been trying to share his own.

Did shitty hair not realize that he normally /never/ invited extras to work out with him? That he wouldn’t dare bother to waste his valuable time tutoring anyone else?

Did he not realize that, for fucks sake, there wasn’t another human being on the planet that he would stay up until 3am talking on the phone with?! Even now, well out of highschool, there were things Kirishima exclusively held a right to.

Things that Bakugou would never do with anyone else.

“I did. You just weren’t paying attention...idiot.” Bakugou finally finishes with a low huff of indignation. He crosses his arms again, gaze sharp and unwavering.

There’s another moment of silence between them, deafening and kind of awkward. It’s almost too much for Katsuki to withstand again, but then Kirishima’s laughter cuts through.

This time, though, it’s light and airy and infectious, carrying through the winter air like a song.

Bakugou blinks, red staining his ears. “Oi! The hell are you laughing at now??” His palms start to spark and Kirishima quickly throws his hands up in defense.

“Sorry! It’s just...ugh. I guess Mina was right, huh? We really are dumb.”

The frown Katsuki is wearing trembles, resolve crumbling as quickly as his glare and before he can stop himself he’s suddenly laughing too, gruff and raspy but beautiful all the same. He slaps a palm over his forehead, and shakes his head as if fed up with himself.

“Normally I would say speak for your fuckin self but..shit. Yeah, I guess we are.”

Their laughter doesn’t die down for a while, but when it does there are fingers suddenly lacing themselves through Bakugou’s own, squeezing firmly as a thumb brushes over his gloved knuckles.

He looks up at Kirishima who had closed the distance between them and was now staring at him with a soft, warm smile merely inches away.

“I might be a little late, but I mean it, Katsuki. I love you.” He tell Bakugou, “Everything about you, and everything you are. I’ve never stopped admiring you and I honestly don’t think I ever will…” There’s a brightness in Kirishima’s eyes, and his adoring smile only grows—

When he feels Katuski squeeze his hand back, returning the gesture.

Bakugou was never a stranger to praise, least of all Kirishima’s, but hearing him say those things now came with an entirely different meaning.

It caused this odd new sensation in his chest, different from the anxiety he used to feel before. This was...nice. This was a feeling he wanted swim in for ages to come.

Though it was slightly hidden by his scarf, Bakugou smiles and mutters a quiet “That’s...sappy….” Because he knows Kirishima will get what that means. Still, despite himself, the words turns his ears nose and cheeks scarlet hued.

Kirishima blinks, snorts, then erupts into another small fit of laughter. Somehow, he hadn’t been expecting /that/ reaction.

Bakugou was so damn cute when he wanted to be!

He doesn’t quite have the time to tease Bakugou about it, though. Because before Kiri can find it in himself to actually speak, soft lips are pressing hurriedly against his own.

Kirishima’s eyes went wide, brows shooting straight into his hair as Bakugou swallows the remanence of his laughter.

The blonde smirks against the redhead when he feels him eventually melt into the kiss completely, muscles going lax as he gives into the initial shock of it.

Katsuki tilts his head to the side, deepening the embrace as he moves their bodies until Kirishima’s back is pressing against the frigid metal of a nearby street light.

Despite wanting this so badly, his movements aren’t desperate; the kiss is uncharacteristically soft, languid. Like he wants to take his time with Kirishima, to explore every inch of his mouth.

And Kirishima certainly let him.

He can taste the lingering remanence of alcohol against Katuski’s tongue, bitter and intoxicating and every everything Eijirou has wanted for over six long, long years.

Trembling hands grip at the front of Bakugou’s shirt and pull him impossibly closer to deepen this kiss, sharp teeth nipping at Katsuki’s bottom lip as he does so.

The noise that little action elicits from the explosion hero gets Kirishima weak in the knees, and damn does he-

—want to hear it again and again in loop for the rest of his life. The need for oxygen unfortunately demands his attention, though, and when they finally part, they’re a gasping mess of flushed cheeks and dorky smiles, breath coming out in hurried clouds of fog.

Bakugou chuckles, soft and breathless, and brings a gloved hand up to rest on the side of Kirishima’s face, thumb gently stroking his cheek.

The feeling of warm fuzz against his skin sends a shiver of electricity running down the base of Kirishima’s spine, and he can’t help but instinctively want to lean into the touch.

So he does, allowing the other to caress his cheek against his palm.

“By the way...love you too. Shitty hair.” Bakugou’s voice is barely above a murmur when he says it, but doesnt matter because Kirishima heard him anyway and the feeling that swells in his chest is so overwhelming that he could burst.

Katuski Bakugou loves him.

Evidently he did burst, because suddenly Bakugou is wiping something wet from the corner of his eye with his thumb. “Oi, no waterworks, shitty hair...c’mon..”

The corner of Bakugou’s lips pull into an impossibly soft smile. He leans in to kiss the corner of his other eye where more tears were gathered, but decides that’s not nearly enough affection to make up for lost time and settles on—

—planting sweet kisses all over Kirishima’s stupid perfect face until the redhead is snickering and playfully begging for him to stop.

Goddamn this man for making him so fucking soft.

“I-I can’t believe it took us this long to get here..” Kirishima says once he finally gets Katsuki to stop assaulting his face. He’s sniffling a little, but his soft laughter still carries and his smile is ever present, having all but forgotten how to stop at this point.

Bakugou huffs in response, and the hand that was still resting in Kirishima’s cheek navigates to his chin, forcing the slightly taller man‘s eyes to meet his own. “I know. But don’t think I won’t be making up for lost time. We’ve got years to catch up, Ei..”

“I can’t wait.” Somehow, that smile widens a couple inches more. Kiri wants nothing more than to grab Katsuki by the front of his shirt and make out again, but instead he wraps his arms around the other in a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Katuski’s entire body radiates warmth, and Kiri can smell notes of beer and something like cinnamon on his skin. He breathes in the scent with a heavy sigh, then squeezes his love tighter.

Katuski wastes no time fully returning the embrace.

They stay like that for a while, blissfully stuck in their own little bubble; their body’s sway back and forth gently against one another while snow continues to fall around them.

“Hey, Kats?” Kirishima asks against his neck after a few moments of comfortable silence pass.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask my first favor of you? As like...my boyfriend.”

Katsuki scoffs a small laugh, nose buried in the redhead’s shoulder. He ignores the way the word ‘boyfriend’ sends butterflies to his stomach and a smile threatening to part his lips.

“Anything you want, Shitty hair.”

“C-can you take me back to Denki’s? Or like...a hospital maybe. I-I can’t really feel my feet and it’s getting kinda hard to stand..”

Bakugou blinks, pulls away from the hug with haste, then looks Kirishima’s feet and frowns. Deeply.

Holy shit.

He forgot the fucker wasn’t wearing any goddamn shoes.

“Ei, Christ!!!” Bakugou tears off his jacket and shoves it at the other along with his gloves and scarf, all curses and profanities as he slaps Kirishima in the back of the head.

The redhead was only /kinda/ joking, but Bakugou is quick to scoop him up into his arms in a bridal carry anyway.

The actions earns an embarrassed yelp from Kirishima, and the full face blush paired with the absolute gay panic in his eyes would have put a swell of pride in Bakugou’s chest had he not been worried of his new boyfriend fucking dying of hypothermia.

Kirishima is built like a goddamn truck and carrying him is awkward due to their height difference, but Bakugou doesn’t care. Not really.

Because although Kirishima was an absolute idiot, Bakugou could finally say he was /his/ absolute idiot.

And he was never letting him go.

End