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The damp dark street flashed blue and red due to the several emergency vehicles stationed around the entrance of what some years ago must have been a three-star hotel and now was more of a glorified rats nest. No-one in their right mind would stay there any longer than they had to and the pro hero Ground Zero was desperately trying to convince a police officer, who was a friend on a good day and a pain in his ass on a bad one, to let him go home.
“Fuck off.” Bakugo snarled, knowing full well he could outrun her but with the way his leg ached and his palms smarted he was ill inclined to try.
“That’s real mature of you.” Officer Yamito huffed.
“Says you.” She was standing in front of the crime scene tape, physically blocking his exit, arms crossed.
“Look it’s a simple request and it seems I, out of the two of us, am the only one listening to my better judgement.”
“No. It’s not happening.” He huffed.
“Please, you need to call someone Ground Zero.” She implored. He wouldn’t budge, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this. “Or I will bring you in.”
Bakugo took pride in his ability to read people and Yamito wasn’t bluffing. “Is that a threat?”
“Well I can’t, but I’m sure I can get the EMT who just looked over your frankly concerning amount of lacerations to change her mind on whether you need hospitalization or not.” He hated that she’d managed to box him in and she knew it. “I simply can’t allow you to go home alone tonight.”
Bakugo cursed whatever fates lead to Yamito being on duty that night. She was one of the regular police officers who worked with his hero agency, and the only one he’d taken a liking to. Their familiarity made her bold, no other officer would dare go head to head with Ground Zero under such circumstances.
He could feel the headache he’d been subduing roar up with vengeance. “Why are you doing this?” All fight dropped from his voice “I’ve had an unbelievably long evening, just let me go in peace Yamito.” Bakugo was dead to the bone exhausted, mind racing from the evenings fight. All he wanted was to get away from the looming hotel and the daunting memories of what he’d faced in there as quickly as possible.
“Sorry I really can’t. In your current condition being alone is the last thing you need. So please just call someone to come pick you up. I don’t care who, but I can’t have you further endangering yourself.”
He bristled. “I know how to look after myself. Besides I’m fine.”
Yamito’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. “We both know that’s bullshit and the fact you haven’t just shoved me aside speaks volumes. Even if physically you are fine, which I still doubt with the way you’re favouring your right leg, tonight was worse than usual. Mindmeld has a reputation for leaving an impression and I’ll be surprised if you managed to fight him for an hour without him using his quirk on you.” She was right of course but there was no way Bakugo was going to give her the satisfaction of showing the vulnerability he felt swirling in his mind. “In short I am concerned for your mental wellbeing Zero.”
“That is none of your fucking business.” He took a threatening step closer glaring at her.
She matched his gaze with determination grown from years of working with difficult pro heroes. “Maybe not. I was hoping you’d take my advice as a friend but you have given me no choice to enforce rule 72A.” His thoughts skidded to a halt, the implications sounding clear.
“Really? You’re using bloody 72A.” Bakugo remembered back to their hero law class at UA. At the time he’d understood the necessity of such a rule but now as it was being applied to him it felt ridiculous. The rule pertained to ensuring that pro heroes didn’t suffer from the occasionally extreme mental load of their work by allowing emergency responders to assign a 24hour watch over heroes they believed ‘at risk’.
“It’s not like I’m going to do anything stupid. It wasn’t even that big of a fight. I’ve had way worse.” He muttered.
Yamito sighed sympathetically. “I don’t doubt it. But that rule is in place to make sure pro heroes don’t isolate themselves.” She took a step closer and poked him in the chest. “And frankly, right now you seem to be Captain on the isolation boat.”
He scoffed. “I just want to go home! I don’t need to be baby sat.”
“You may not think you need it but you haven’t seen yourself, you’re a wreck Zero and I saw the look on your face when you came out of that building with Mindmeld.”
Bakugo didn’t want to think about it. He’d been trying since he handed the villain over to the police not to think about any of it. “You don’t know shit.”
“Maybe I was reading into it,” she admitted, “but is having someone with you tonight really going to be such a bad thing?” Yamito put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be setting my mind to ease and who knows you might actually be able to talk about whatever happened somewhere other than in the incident report expected on Monday.” He shrugged her hand off and she nonchalantly tucked it back in her pocket safe from the evening chill and Bakugo’s cold stare. “Look, the longer we argue about this the longer it’ll take for you to get home and the more you’ll have to write about in your report.”
He really just wanted to go and Yamito wasn’t giving in, so with a snarl he rummaged around in his pocket and fished out his phone. “Fine.” He flicked to the favourites in his phone contacts, tapping the number of the only person he could stand to see him like this.
The phone answered after one ring. “Kirishima.”
His cheery voice echoed on the other end. “Bakugo what’s up man? It’s pretty late.”
“I need you to come pick me up.”
“Weren’t you out on patrol?” Concern laced his voice.
“Yes.”
“Did it go bad? Are you injured? Please tell me you’re safe.”
Bakugo huffed. “No, I got the guy and I’m fine... It’s just bloody Yamito, she’s pulling out the babysitting rule.”
Silence stretched over the call before Bakugo heard a quiet gasp. “72A?”
“Yeah 72A, I’m surprised you remember seeing as you slept through half our hero law classes.”
“Well I knew I had a good tutor to make sure I was all caught up. But Bakugo, 72A is pretty serious are you sure you’re alright?”
“I said I’m fine Kiri really she’s just over reacting.” He made a face at Yamito’s annoyed expression. “And if you can’t do it it’s fine I can-”
Kirishima interrupted. “No, no of course. Where are you?”
“Kagu street, down west, near where we fought Nullify a few months ago. You won’t be able to miss it.”
“Ok, I’m on my way.” He paused before continuing. “Also, can you put Yamito on the phone?”
“Why? I swear I’m-”
“Please Katsuki, just put her on?” Kirishima sounded so sincere and worried. It killed Bakugo to know he’d done that, made him worry, this is why he preferred to recover alone. No one else to suffer from his bullshit but himself.
“Right, fine, ok.”
Bakugo held out the phone to Yamito. “He wants to talk to you.” She fumbled bringing the phone up to her ear.
“Red Riot?”
Kirishima chuckled. “Yamito no need to be so formal.”
“Sorry Kirishima, I’m technically still on the job.”
“It’s fine. Now, be honest with me how bad is he? Cause for you to asses he needs monitoring he can’t be as fine as he’s saying.” She could hear the underlying concern in his voice.
Yamito looked Bakugo up and down maintaining eye contact as she gave her assessment. “Physically rather knocked about; the EMT let him go after bandaging the worst of the lacerations but he’s been favouring his right leg which suggests the damage is more than skin deep. Both his hand grenades were damaged beyond repair as well so I expect he either over used or over powered his explosions which probably effected his hands.” She watched the man in question bristle tucking his bare hands behind his back and even out his stance. “He went up against Mindmeld this evening and didn’t end up needing the back-up he called. Brought him in single handily in under an hour which must be a record or something.”
“That’s the nightmare dude right, who’s escaped jail like-”
“-ten times, yeah that’s the one. His quirk allows him to conjure individual’s greatest fears as illusions as soon as eye contact is established. I don’t know what Mindmeld made him see, but no one is immune to fear, not even the great Ground Zero.” Bakugo bared his teeth at her and she addressed her next words to him. “There is no shame in that! This is why I’m enforcing this, because you won’t even acknowledge your own weaknesses let alone deal with them healthily on your own.”
Bakugo snatched the phone back. “That’s enough chit chat for now. Get your ass over here asap Kirishima, it’s fucking cold.” Now that the adrenalin from his fight was fading the cool evening air felt like it was bleeding into his soul.
“I’ll see you in ten Katsuki.” The line went dead and Bakugo tucked his phone back into his pocket.
Yamito smiled at him. “See that wasn’t so hard. Why don’t you go sit in my car while we wait, it’ll be warmer and your leg must be really annoying you by now.”
“Shut up.” The words fell flat as he began to limp his way towards the police car, too tired to put up a façade in the name of pride.
When Kirishima arrived he raced up to where Yamito leaned against the side of her car, and Bakugo sat legs out the door of the passenger side.
Kirishima stared at him and swallowed obviously trying to keep a neutral face for his benefit but failing miserably. “Took you long enough.” Bakugo shifted to get out and Kirishima held out his hand. After a moment of contemplation, he reached out and grasped it pulling himself up. His hand was so warm Bakugo was tempted not to let go but they were still at an active crime scene and he refused to give Yamito any indication that she’d made the right call. He dropped Kirishima’s hand before he started limping over to his car.
Kirishima watched him go turning to Yamito. “Right we’ll be off then. Thanks for this, I know how hard he can be sometimes especially when he feels vulnerable. I believe your judgement of the situation was spot on.”
“Of course, I’m just glad I’m not the one stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours.” They both paused watching Bakugo collapse into the car, a grimace plastered on his face. “If you need me to make any calls to your agency to explain the situation and clear your schedule I can.”
“That’d be great! And hopefully we can organise to catch up soon under better circumstances.” Kirishima replied.
Yamito scratched the back of her neck nervously. “I’d love that although I suspect Bakugo won’t want to see me for a while.”
“Oh, don’t even worry he’s just in a sore spot right now. He’ll be fine.”
She clapped him on the shoulder. “With you by his side I have no doubts.” The knowing look Yamito gave him held several implications which Kirishima was about to address when Bakugo interrupted.
“Shitty hair! It’s fucking freezing come on.” Kirishima laughed.
“Duty calls.” He gave Yamito a one-armed hug before running off to slide into the driver’s seat turning the ignition.
Bakugo sat in silence as they drove off, watching the crime scene fade from sight. Finally he was gone from the shadow of that broken down hotel. It had been so dark inside, nothing that Bakugo wasn’t used to, but the level of structural decay had proven a challenge to navigate in such conditions. His leg had been a rookie mistake really, he’d propelled himself through a hallway overestimating the strength of the flooring and upon landing his right leg had gone right through. He’d been stuck for five terrifying seconds before he’d managed to pull himself up, tearing his pant leg to shreds on the way. But that meant nothing in comparison to the horrors that’d pursued him. His body shook as though trying to physically reject the memory.
“You still cold?” Kirishima turned up the car heating without waiting for a response. They settled back into heavy silence, Kirishima driving and Bakugo occasionally shivering. He was just waiting for Kirishima to ask about it, surely, he was curious about what could scare Bakugo so badly other people could tell. Usually they spared no detail of their work with each other, even when exhausted fresh from the fight, but this was different. If anything, it sent Bakugo back to his first year at U.A. after the Kamino Ward incident. Everyone had been so quiet around him, scared to mention it and rightfully so. Bakugo had been full of anger and repressed emotions, letting rip at anyone who suggested he was even the slightest bit effected by his kidnapping.
He was different now, although some may beg to differ with how he snarled at any suggested weakness but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to open up. He’d gone to therapy while at UA, learnt to communicate his emotions and all that crap upon Aizawa’s request after one too many violent outbursts. He slowly learnt talking to people and sharing how he felt was not a sign of weakness. There was only one person he trusted to start those early experiments of letting down his walls: Kirishima. He’d never pushed Bakugo to say more than he wanted to but was always willing to listen, telling him how ‘manly’ it was to let himself be emotional. It had been Kirishima he first told about his nightmares after Kamino and it was Kirishima who had proceeded to stay the night and calm him down when he woke at 1am in a cold sweat sobbing.
Bakugo needed a bit of that calm now. Without the prying eyes of the crime scene, the shadow of the hotel or the cold evening air burrowing into his chest and with Kirishima by his side he could begin to feel safe. Wordlessly Bakugo reached out for Kirishima’s arm. Instinctually Kirishima dropped hand from the steering wheel and interlaced their hands giving a gentle squeeze. The warmth from Kirishima’s palm felt like it was spreading up his arm, chasing the cold. He squeezed back and their hands remained joined for the rest of the journery.
Pulling up outside Bakugo’s apartment complex Kirishima quickly got out and rushed around to Bakugo’s side once again offering his hand to pull him out of the car.
“You don’t have to do that.” Bakugo said as he begrudgingly accepted the hand.
“I know.” Kirishima smiled and didn’t let go of his hand as they made their way inside. Bakugo had never been so grateful for elevators in his life, he pressed the button for floor twelve and leant some of his weight into Kirishima’s side as they went up.
Despite earning a reasonable pay check his apartment isn’t anything grand. The door opens into a lounge and dinning space only separated from the kitchen by an island bench. And down the hall is his bathroom, bedroom and spare room that has slowly grown to be a study. The bed in the spare room was originally intended for any guests staying the night, but since the only one who stays over these days is Kirishima it’s gone out of use.
Bakugo unlocks the door and breaths in the smell of his apartment grounding himself in the familiarity and security. Kirishima nudges him inside taking the keys from his hand to place them in the dish on the hallstand.
The door now shut behind him Bakugo removes his shoulder support before peeling his torn and bloody top off, letting it crumple to the ground. He feels dirty in comparison to his neat apartment and the need to scrub the grime and dried bloody from his skin builds in intensity. He sluggishly tugs his boots off and chucks them over by the door. Then stumbles down the hallway while struggling with the harness over his pants. Without looking back he calls, “I’m gonna shower.” He goes to continue down the hall but trips over his own uncooperative feet and falls onto the wall drawing a pained groan from his chest. In an instant a strong arm wraps around his waist pulling him upright. Bakugo looks up to see Kirishima, eyebrows pinched in concern.
“I’m here for a reason Katsuki. Let me help you.” He implores. Bakugo groans again but not from pain, rather from the embarrassment of letting himself be taken care of so completely. In any other situation, he’d complain about how he’s not a child who can’t undress or shower by himself. But he’s tired and sore and he doesn’t want Kirishima to remove the arm around his waist. So he simply tucks his head into Kirishima’s shoulder and shakily nods.
With Kirishima supporting most of his weight now, the two shuffle slowly to the bathroom. Leaning him against the counter, Kirishima unbuckles Bakugo’s harness and knee guards discarding them to the tiles soon to be followed by pants, socks and underwear. The gentleness in how Kirishima lifts each foot to slide clothing off makes Bakugo feel warm in his chest and he has to look away. Kirishima then guides him to sit on the toilet, while he waits for the shower to heat up and quickly strips off himself.
“This is ok yeah?” Kirishima asks before going to help Bakugo up and it only takes a tired hum and a nod before he’s pulled again into strong arms and then gently stepped into the shower.
Hot water runs over his back and he tenses at the slight sting against his yet closed over cuts.
“Too hot?” Kirishima questions stepping under the spray behind him him.
“Mmm. No. Just stings.” Kirishima nods before reaching for the body wash and squirting some in his hands before carefully running them over Bakugo’s back. As Kirishima works Bakugo watches the dirty brown water run down the drain. He flinches once or twice when soap gets in a particularly bad cut to which he gets a mumbled sorry and a soft kiss to his shoulder.
This isn’t the first time they’ve showered together, far from it. Back at U.A. the change rooms had open showers and Kirishima, being an affectionate guy, often offered to do his friends backs. Then other times less platonically. Fuelled by heat and want in the steamy admittedly bigger bathroom at Kirishima’s apartment they’d touch each other, ragged breaths lost to the sounds of water hitting the shower floor. A few times they’d showered together just to be close and share the intimacy of running shampoo through each other’s hair and letting themselves be defenceless in the others presence.
The way they fit together here felt different. Bakugo was completely defenceless and was giving over control knowing Kirishima would take care of him. He felt his mind slip and drift away as Kirishima moved from washing his back to his arms, from his arms to his chest, from his chest to his legs, then back up to wash his hair. Gone completely pliant in Kirishima’s arms Bakugo pressed his fore head to his shoulder, as the hands massaging his scalp and hot water running down his body sent him further and further from consciousness.
“-suki? Katsuki? Katsuki?” The voice sounded so far away, muffled by the sound of running water. “Hey come on, you can’t fall asleep here.” It was so easy to ignore, he was so warm and comfortable. “Really I promise there are much comfier places.” He felt the surface he was leaning against shift and a heard some muttered expletives. “I wish your bloody shower was bigger this really isn’t practical.” As he was jostled again the sounds became louder and clearer. “Ah gotcha.” The sound of running water slowed and stopped with a squeal and Bakugo mourned the loss of the feeling and warmth, worming his way closer to the solid heat in front of him with a whine. He felt a chuckle vibrate from where his cheek was pressed against what he now realised was a chest. “Give me a second I’ve just got to get the door open.”
A sudden burst of cold air prickled the back of Bakugo’s neck and sent his eyes flying open as he stumbled away from Kirishima banging his head against the shower tiles heart beat picking up speed. “Hey! Slow down!” Panic sounded from Kirishima but it fell on deaf ears as Bakugo grabbed at his neck scanning his surroundings fearfully. Sliding down the wall to the shower floor, Bakugo felt like he was back there at the hotel, struggling to tell the difference between those fucked up illusions and reality.
As sleep gradually relinquished its’ dizzying fog, he began to properly take in where he was. Bakugo looked up to see Kirishima reaching for him and on instinct his hands shot up in front of his face. “DON’T!” Kirishima froze. “Please don’t. Just give me a second. I can’t-” He swallowed thickly, heart continuing to pound in his chest. “Don’t touch me.”
Kirishima withdrew his outstretched hands slowly so Bakugo could see and sank down to the ground too, sitting on the bathmat just outside the shower. “Ok no touching. Is there anything I can do?” Bakugo couldn’t get his thoughts straight, everything was spiralling so far out of his control, he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t slow his breathing, his hands were beginning to shake.
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He gripped his knees to try and still his hands.
Kirishima looked like he desperately wanted to reach out again but he knew better. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen a friend like this. Their whole class remembers the time in the dorm when Todoroki had a panic attack after he’d accidentally spilt boiling water from where his soba had been cooking. The clatter and the scream had wrung though the entire common area and they’d all rushed to the kitchen to find Todoroki on the ground clutching his hand, gulping in air between sobs as his body shook, eyes glazed over and unresponsive to their worried questions. To say they’d been shocked was an understatement. Luckily Midoriya had taken charge, sending Iida to get Aizawa before approaching Todoroki and speaking in calming words and leading him through breathing exercises. Everyone except Midoriya had been ushered from the room upon Aizawa’s arrival and in their next health class had spoken about panic attacks and how to recognise the signs, work through them and deal with the aftermath.
It was an unfortunately common side effect of hero work, and Bakugo had once confided that he’d had panic attack alone in his room the first night after being rescued from League of Villains. Back then Bakugo had suffered alone, but he didn’t have to now.
“We need to get your breathing to slow down Katsuki.”
“…makes f-fucking sense.” Bakugo muttered between shaky breaths. His lips were starting to feel numb and not just because the warmth from their shower was seeping from his body to the cool tiles pressed against his bare back.
“If I count do you think you could follow?” Kirishima asked earnestly and received a nod in reply. “Ok, breath in.” Kirishima counted to four in his head. “And out.” Again he counted to four. Bakugo’s breath shook in his chest as he tried to bring it under control, not quite matching the pace, but obviously listening. “Again, in.” He counted. “And out.”
That’s how they sat for the next ten minutes. Kirishima sitting outside the shower, Bakugo inside, slowly but surely regaining control over his breathing. Once Bakugo was able to not only follow the counts of four but slow further to five and then six Kirishima broke the rhythm.
“How are you feeling.” Bakugo took a few moments to gather his thoughts.
“Damn cold.” Kirishima huffed what could almost be a laugh if he didn’t still look so concerned.
“Am I ok to touch you now?” Bakugo nodded and watched as Kirishima shuffled over to grab their towels from the towel rack, first haphazardly winding his own around his waist before climbing half in the shower and wrapping the other around Bakugo’s shoulders. Kirishima began rubbing the towel up and down his arms in an attempt to warm him up. It was grounding, and solidified this moment in reality. The illusions had turned his blood to ice on sight but here was Kirishima soft and warm and real. The first tear slid down his cheek silently. Bakugo has never been much of a crier and by the time the second tear falls he’s already scrubbing at his face in frustration. It’s like the physical contact is letting all the tension from the panic attack rise to the surface. Kirishima takes no prompting to wrap a now shaking and crying Bakugo in his arms, while still sitting on the shower floor.
“You’re ok. You’re ok. You’re safe.” Kirishima muttered sweet reassurances into his ear as Bakugo removed his hands from his eyes in favour of clinging to Kirishima like a dying man.
“Fuck.” Bakugo’s voice breaks under the weight of his emotion. “This is so stupid. So fucking stupid Ei.”
“No it’s not.”
“Yes it is!” He insists. “It’s stupid b-because of all the shit I’ve seen and experienced, it only took one fucking asshole with a shitty fucking quirk to make me feel… feel…” Bakugo paused and Kirishima could feel the way he shook almost violently as he whispered, “… terrified.”
“He had a nightmare quirk, you’re not weak for feeling that, it’s the same as if you faced of someone with an emotion manipulating quirk.” Bakugo shook his head before drawing back just enough to look Kirishima in the eyes.
“It really isn’t because I knew what he was showing me was fake, I knew that- that the illusions weren’t real and still,” he ran his arm under his nose, “I felt like I’d lost everything.”
Kirishima cupped Bakugo’s face in his hands. “But you didn’t lose Katsuki! You won, in record time according to Yamito. You did your job and got the guy even though you were afraid, that’s the manliest thing ever.”
“I still let him get to me! I let him manipulate me and break me. He had me turning tail and running scared, how is that manly! Yeah I got him but that was his mistake not my bravery. And now I got fucking all freaked out over a gust of cold air Eijiro, because he’s still in my head and every time I shut my eyes I see it all again. FUCK!” Bakugo grabbed at his hair his damp towel falling from his shoulder at the movement. “I don’t want to ever see that again.” This was where Kirishima would ask. This is where his curiosity would have to win out. This is where Bakugo would have to tell Kirishima that his worst nightmare, what had him so freaked out was seeing him dying.
It hadn’t just been Kirishima, Mindmeld had conjured all his closest friends dying gruesomely in front of Katsuki one by one as he’d perused the villain through that old abandoned hotel. Kaminari had been impaled and gurgling on the fallen chandelier in the lobby, Mina throat slit open, body more red than pink, as she bleed out in the hallway, Sero drowned and lifeless in the brown water of the courtyards broken fountain, Uraraka with gushing bullet wounds stumbling out of an empty room and walking right through him, Deku body broken and bloodied after taking a jump from the fifth floor balcony. He’d known Mindmeld’s quirk when he agreed to investigate a tip off along his patrol route but hadn’t been able to prepare himself for the reality of facing his worst nightmares.
Still by far the worst had been Kirishima. Every time he got close to Mindmeld and let off an explosion the illusion of Kirishima would appear and take the damage, not hardening his skin, just crying for Bakugo to stop as his body burned at impact. It got worse and worse, until a particularly brutal explosion melted the skin off half of illusion Kirishima’s face. The imitation had screeched in pain and fallen to his knees spitting up blood looking straight out of a horror film. Despite his brain screaming that it was just the villains quirk, seeing Kirishima suffering at his own hands was overriding all logical thought. He couldn’t face this and he knew it, so Bakugo had been a coward and run sending out a call for back up as almost an afterthought.
Instead of taking the chance to make his own escape, Mindmeld had laughed at him and sent the mutilated illusion of Kirishima after him, thriving off the fear created by his quirk. The hotel had felt like an endless maze as Bakugo fled through its’ winding halls, turning anytime Kirishima appeared in front of him, burned and bloody calling out Bakugo’s name, voice soaked in pain. It grew obvious that Mindmeld was toying with him and he hated playing into his game but every time he saw Kirishima it was like someone was trying to rip his heart out through his throat.
Mindmeld must have been familiar with the layout of the old hotel as he’d lead Bakugo through what felt like miles of hallway without him getting anywhere near the exit. Eventually he was met with a dead end and two options, either explode his way through the wall having no idea what was on the other side and causing extreme structural damage to an already crumbling building or turning around and facing the approaching illusion and its master.
It was so stupid that it had been his moment of cowardice, another attempt to run away, that had finally turned the tide of their fight. Mindmeld obviously had been expecting Bakugo to turn around since he’d made an effort to stop using his quirk in their chase after injuring his leg and had stepped up behind the Hero ready to attack. Bakugo’s gauntlet’s were designed to hold an incredible amount of sweat and in his panic they’d reached their full capacity so when Bakugo set off his expolision the world around them crumbled. Bakugo and Mindmeld were sent flying backwards. Bakugo had lifted his gauntlets in front of himself as a protective shield from debris and landed on his feet from years of built muscle memory. Mindmeld had not been so prepared, as he’d flown backwards shards of timber sliced through and embedded themselves in his skin. Bakugo had been ready to make his escape through the gaping whole he’d made but an unfamiliar cry stopped him.
He’d turned around tentatively but the illusion of Kirishima was gone, in its place was Mindmeld on the ground and heavily bleeding where a piece of wood had lodged itself in his side. He stood frozen at the sight until Mindmeld seemed to focus himself and a flicker of Kirishima dead with the same gushing wound appeared at his feet.
“No you don’t you sick fucking bastard.” Katsuki had growled realising his opportunity, and promptly hoisted the villain up, disregarding his cries of pain, fastening the quirk cancelling handcuffs off his belt around his wrists. All in perfect timing as sirens drawing nearer signalled the arriving back up.
He had been so determined to repress the whole experience, hand off Mindmeld to the police, go home alone, crash into bed and sleep it off never to speak of it again. But because of bloody Yamito and her concern and rule 72-fucking-A, Bakugo was now naked on the floor of his shower, fresh from a panic attack, and crying in Kirishima’s arms waiting for the question that was going to send him back to that hotel and all the things he never wanted to see again.
That question never came. “You don’t have to tell me what you saw.” He ran his fingers through Bakugo’s still damp hair. “All I want right now is to help you through this however you’ll allow me too. And if talking about what you saw with me isn’t what you need right now, that’s fine. Undoubtedly there is a lot for you to process and together we can make sure you find healthy ways to do that, whether it’s taking time off work or even going back to see your psychologist, ok?” Bakugo nodded head against Kirishima’s hands. “But Katsuki, you’ve gone through this before and gotten through it, so you’ll survive this too. You’ll win the long game. Even when you’re feeling weakest you’re still the strongest, manliest person I know.”
Bakugo’s tears now ran silently down his face as he looked into Kirishima’s eyes as though looking right into his soul. The silence hung between them like a warm blanket and all Kirishima had said settled into Bakugo’s mind. He was going to be ok, Kirishima was going to help him through this, he’d done this before so he could do it again, Mindmeld hadn’t won and Bakugo wasn’t weak.
“Thank-you.” It was all he could say, but he knew Kirishima realised all he meant behind those words.
“Anytime.” He smiled genuinely and Bakugo let his own lips quirk up in return. “I think it’s time to get out of the shower now.” At that Bakugo almost laughed.
“Yeah my leg hurts and I’m tired as fuck.” Kirishima wrapped the fallen towel back around his shoulders before situating his arms underneath him and gently hoisted him up. Bakugo’s muscle screamed in protest after sitting so tensely in an awkward position but they moved slowly until Bakugo was upright and out of the shower. Kirishima propped Bakugo against the counter and without being told where, found the bandages and ointment on the top shelf behind the mirror. He watched as Kirishima meticulously found and treated each of his cuts. The quiet contentment from before during his shower started to seep back in as Kirishima’s hands ghosted over his skin. Unfortunately, so did the cold, Bakugo’s shivering causing Kirishima to speed up the process.
“There all clean and bandaged.” Bakugo pushed himself off the counter and let his weight fall onto Kirishima’s chest, he was too exhausted to do much more. “Hey, I got you.” He wrapped his arms around him. “Bed time I think.”
Bakugo hummed in agreement and they once again shuffled awkwardly down the hall. He struggled to keep his eyes open as Kirishima guided him towards his closet selecting a pair of loose boxers for him. Kirishima lifted each of his feet to slip them on, letting Bakugo’s hand settle of his shoulder for balance, before pulling them up snug around his waist. Kirishima moved him to sit on the bed tossing both their towels into a hamper before going back to Bakugo’s closet grabbing himself a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, despite having a drawer of his own clothes to the left of the bed.
Bakugo realised this as Kirishima settles down beside him. “If you get mine, I want one of yours.” He tugged on the sleave of the skull shirt he’d borrowed.
Kirishima huffs out a laugh. “I thought you didn’t like sleeping in t-shirts.”
He yawned as Kirishima got up too lethargic to give a proper rebuttal. “Make it your Crimson Riot tee.”
“Sure thing.” After some rummaging he returned with the well-worn shirt that he’d had since UA. As Kirishima pulled it on over his head Bakugo breathed in the comforting smell, grounded by the feelings of warmth that follow.
Kirishima all but lifted Bakugo as he pulls back the covers, placing him back down and climbing in behind him pulling the covers over them both. Bakugo barely had the energy to move but when Kirishima didn’t immediately slot himself against his back he manages to twist around so they’re face to face.
“Ei?”
“Katsuki.” Bakugo studies Kirishima’s face as much as he can see it in the dark. Noting how very soft, smooth and alive he is next to him. Bakugo feels the last of the tension drain from his body. He’d deal with all his shit tomorrow for now he needed just one thing.
“Hold me,” he pauses before adding, “please.”
Instead of answering Kirishima wraps his arms around him, drawing him close so his face rests against his chest. Their legs tangle loosely. Warmth grows where their bodies touch. Bakugo can hear Kirishima’s strong and steady heartbeat under his head and in that moment, it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. One of Kirishima’s hands worms its way under the back of his t-shirt and settles open and warm against his lower back. Their breathing flows in and out of sync but gradually slows.
Bakugo is on the cusp of sleep when he feels the gentle press of Kirishima’s lips to his forehead. “You’re so strong, but sometimes you forget you don’t have to be strong alone.” He whispers lips still against his forehead. “Tomorrow when you wake up, I’ll be right here beside you. And whenever you need me, I’ll be there as soon as I can, that’s a promise.” He presses another kiss against his hairline. “Maybe you won’t want me there, but I’ll still come.”
Silence reclaimed the room as Bakugo slowly processed what he’d heard and almost unbidden he mummbled, “I’ll always want you Ei.”
Bakugo felt the sharp intake of breath against his own chest. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I am.” Bakugo huffed. “And you should be too.” He snuggled closer to Kirishima.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Bakugo could hear the smile in his voice. “Goodnight Katuski.”
“G’night Ei.”