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How the hell had they wound up here?
It really hadn’t been in either of their plans for the day. Bakugou certainly hadn’t thought he’d wind up smooshed against Deku’s shoulder in a grimy alleyway, eyes locked on a woman dressed in black about a half a block down the street. But here they were, doing just that, and Deku looked like he was trying to carve a permanent furrow into his brow with how hard he was frowning.
“That’s her,” Deku whispered. “I know it is.”
“Yeah, so what are you gonna do about it, huh? Yammer on about honor and bravery until she turns herself in?”
Deku seemed to ignore him. That, or he was too focused on the woman that he didn’t hear him at all. “We should get someone. Find a pro hero to help-“
“You see any heroes around here?” Bakugou huffed. Like anyone would come running just to catch some small-time thief. Lord knew he’d only let himself get roped into tailing her because Deku just didn’t know how to let shit go. “Forget it, Deku.”
“I can’t just forget it. There's been a thief stealing from all the small businesses in this neighborhood for months now, and I'm sure it's her. She's been stealing from families just trying to get by. The bakery on the corner is really hurting because of her.” There was a familiar fire in Deku’s eyes, his gaze fixed on her. “It doesn’t matter how small the job is – if someone is suffering it’s our duty to put a stop to it.”
"You know, now you're making me want to turn myself in for nothing just to get away from you."
"We have to do something."
Before Bakugou could open his mouth to say another word, Deku was off, making his way across the street to the cover of a couple of vending machines before the woman took notice. Groaning, Bakugou followed behind.
He couldn’t argue that Deku had a good point, all things considered. Even if he wanted to.
“Fine,” he said, back pressed against cold metal. He clenched his fists, heat sparking against his palms “You want this done, then let me-“
“You can’t fight her. Not here. We’re still students.”
“Afraid of getting a mark in your permanent record?”
“It could reflect badly on U.A. You know how tight their security has been lately, and the press is still just waiting for something else to go wrong..."
Bakugou sighed. Another good point. Dammit.
“Then what the fuck are you planning on doing? Can’t arrest her. Can’t fight her. Are we just tailing her for fun?”
“If we could find out something that will help the others track her down-“
Bakugou jammed his palm against the top of Deku’s head, pulling him back around the corner as the woman turned toward them. Only for a moment – a passing glance and nothing more. Then she headed for the bridge around the corner.
Deku nodded at him, and Bakugou figured he could just turn and leave right then and there, but…
He followed anyway.
The bridge was open and exposed. Not the best for tailing a suspect at the best of times, but when she was halfway across they managed to duck behind a half-wall obscuring a couple of recycling bins. “Next to the garbage,” Bakugou groaned. “Great place for a stakeout, Deku.”
“She’s not crossing. She’s just…standing there.”
“So let me at her. I’ll take her down in-“
“For the last time, no.”
“You sound like Iida, you know that?”
“You could just go back, you know,” Deku pointed out.
“Yeah right. You’d probably manage to get yourself hurt or something. Or kidnapped. Or…I don’t know, thrown into the river.” He cursed under his breath when he shifted and felt a tug on his sleeve, looking down and noticing it caught on the corner of the bin. “Shit-“ He tugged, and the whole thing came crashing down. “Shit-“
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but-“ A quick glance around the corner and his fears were confirmed – here she came, their ultra-dangerous cat burglar, and they had nowhere to go or hide. “Shit – she’s coming this way, Deku.”
“I know,” Deku hissed.
“Screw it,” Bakugou huffed, fists clenched, palms tingling. “Should have done this from the start-“
“Kacchan, don’t-“
He’d only taken half a step around the corner when Deku’s hands locked hard around his arms, tugging him backwards, pressing his back against the wall, and-
“Sorry,” was all Deku said before he was kissing him.
Kissing…him.
Kissing him?
What the ever-loving fuck?
Once when Bakugou had been barely five, he’d gone to the mall around the holidays and caught a glimpse of Santa Clause downing half a bottle of cheap whisky behind a dumpster. The image of it was still burned into his brain – red hat clutched in his fist, head tilted back, alcohol running down his wispy gray beard. But more than that picture (which was a fucking riot now that he was old enough to really think about it), he remembered the feeling of it. Little five-year-old pipsqueak Katsuki Bakugou, frozen in place, staring wide-eyed and unable to move a single muscle as his balloon had gone floating away up into the rafters.
And here he was, feeling it again, just like he was five fucking years old. The frozen.
Because fucking Deku had him fucking pinned against a fucking wall.
Fucking kissing him.
And all he could do was stand there with his arms stuck out in front of him on either side of Deku’s shoulders, like he was some kind of B-movie zombie. And then before he could shake himself out of it and ask what the hell Deku was thinking, he caught a glimpse of a face looming around the corner.
He slammed his eyes shut. Could still feel that gaze on them, studying them.
Creep.
And then it was gone, their mark muttering something about young love under her breath (gross), and they were alone again. And finally – finally – Deku pulled away and took a step back.
Bakugou felt like his entire body was on fire.
Deku was so red he looked like he was going to pass out right there, and wouldn’t that be just peachy? Having to carry his ass back to the dorms like a sack of potatoes. Bakugou tried to say something – anything – but the words just wouldn’t come out no matter how hard he tried. Throat still frozen solid while the rest of him started to defrost.
“Kacchan,” Deku choked. “I…uh…sorry…it was all I could think-“
Bakugou forced his limbs to move through sheer force of will, shoving Deku out of his way and marching toward the dorms. “We already lost the fucker,” he huffed. “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let me take her like I said.”
Deku wanted to argue. Bakugou could feel it in his damn bones. But he didn’t bother turning around or listening to another word as he stalked off the damn bridge and left him in the dust.
What pissed Bakugou off the most was that it hadn’t even been a bad idea. He didn’t bother with stealth when he could help it, since it was usually a waste of time at best and a good way to lose a target at worst. But considering that their choices had been run or hide (or fight, but Deku had vetoed that of fucking course), and considering that either would have gotten them caught in a heartbeat, it was lucky all things considered that they’d managed to weasel their way out of that clusterfuck of a situation.
But he still didn’t like it.
It’s not like the kiss had even been bad. Not that he wanted to kiss Deku, of all people. Hell, he didn’t particularly want to kiss anyone, and it wasn’t like people were exactly lining up for it anyway. He was fine with that.
But still, every time he thought about it, it made his blood boil and his heart pound and his body feel like it was going to burst into flames. Even locking eyes with Deku from halfway across the classroom was enough to make every muscle in his body tense up. The way Deku kept glancing at him, cheeks pink and brow pinched in that familiar way that made him look like a kicked puppy.
Bakugou glared and Deku turned away again.
“Something going on with you guys?” Kirishima asked, leaning over Bakugou’s desk like it belonged to him. “I mean, you usually look pissed off at the world on a good day, but you look extra pissed today.”
“I’m not extra pissed,” Bakugou lied. He absolutely was. He was livid. Like his body was stuck in a constant state of wanting to punch a damn wall, and it was starting to twist his stomach up in knots.
“Dude, if your glare could set fires, Midoriya would be a pile of ash by now.”
“Get off my desk.”
“Did something happen?” Kirishima probed, decidedly not getting off Bakugou’s desk. “Did you guys get into another fistfight? You’re both gonna get suspended at this rate-“
“Off my desk already, moron-“
Then Kaminari spoke up, and he almost made Bakugou go supernova right then and there: “He’s probably just keyed up because Midoriya kissed him on the bridge the other day.”
Oh, murder. Murder sounded good right about now. Cold-blooded murder in front of who-the-fuck-cares-how-many witnesses.
Pulse pounding in his ears, face so blazing hot he thought his hair would melt right off, Bakugou slammed his fists onto his desk hard enough to send Kirishima reeling backwards. “Shut your fucking face, you dumb-ass pikachu!”
“Relax, I didn’t tell anyone-“
Kirishima looked at Bakugou like he’s sprouted a second head. “Wait, you kissed-“
Bakugou got his hand over Kirishima’s mouth in record time, his other one twisting around Kirishima’s collar. “Shut up. Both of you.”
“Bakugou.” Aizawa sounded about as entertained as ever, staring him down, probably ready to nullify his quirk if he tried to blast Kirishima and Kaminari’s heads off. “Put him down and take your seat.”
And he was tempted. Oh, he was tempted.
But he bit the bullet and did as he was told. He swallowed down the anger boiling inside him and stared at the back of Deku’s stupid, ridiculous, obnoxious fucking head and wondered how the hell he was ever going to live this shit down.
Unfortunately, Kirishima and Kaminari weren’t going to make it easy for him. Of course they weren’t. Instead of letting this shit go, Kirishima caught up with him in the stairwell the first second he could. “Okay,” he huffed, “I don’t care if it gets me burned to dust or thrown out a window or beheaded or something, I have to know what happened.”
“Tempted by all three,” Bakugou said, ignoring him and continuing down the stairs until Kirishima stepped in front of him on the landing. “Move, dipshit-“
“No, not until you give me the details.”
“I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“You kissed-“
Bakugou slammed his fist against Kirishima’s chest. Enough to hurt, even if the guy was stupidly durable. “How many times do I have to tell you to shut up about that? It wasn’t what you’re thinking.”
“Wait, so it actually happened?”
“It totally did,” said Kaminari.
“What?”
Bakugou groaned. “Shut up, both of you, before I chuck you down the stairs.” But something clicked in his brain a moment later, and he turned on his heel, facing Kaminari and leveling him with a hot glare. “How the hell did you even see us anyway? What, were you spying on us or something?”
“Aw c’mon – I don’t go following you around for fun. I have better stuff to do, ya know. I just happened to be passing by.” Kaminari shrugged, and he barely managed to choke back a laugh. “The look on your face…you looked like someone had stuck a live snake down your shirt.”
“Man, your face is really red,” Kirishima mused, leaning closer. Tempting fate. “And not just normal angry-murderous-rage red. Like…” His eyes widened. “Wait…no…there’s no way.”
“Kirishima I swear to god-“
“Do you have a thing for Midoriya?”
There it was again. The frozen. Leaving him standing there staring at Kirishima and Kaminari with his mouth hanging open like a gutted fish. And if he had felt hot before, now he felt like someone had tossed him right into a damn active volcano.
“Fucking what?” he finally managed, chest still feeling so tight he could barely breathe enough to get the words out. “No! Fuck no! I don’t…no. Fuck.”
“Wow, three ‘fucks’ in a row,” Kaminari chuckled. “That’s a lot even for you.” He slung an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “Methinks this boy doth protest too-“
A second later Kaminari was on the floor, splayed on his back, and Bakugou was halfway down the stairs heading for the door. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you morons off the roof,” he spat before rounding the corner.
A thing for Deku. For Deku. He didn’t think he’d ever heard something so damn ridiculous in his life.
Even making it back to his room didn’t offer him much in the way of relief. Sure, it got him away from Kaminari and Kirishima and anyone else who might try to say dumb shit like suggesting he had a thing for Deku – honestly – but it also left him alone with his thoughts. Not something he wanted to be, especially when his damn brain kept replaying what had happened on that bridge, over and over, until he started to get a headache.
He pulled out his phone, connected to his speakers, turned up the volume to max and lay there on his bed figuring he had about fifteen minutes tops before Iida came knocking down his door insisting he turn it down. At least it would be fifteen minutes he wouldn’t have to think.
He could just destroy his eardrums in peace.
But even in the middle of the pounding bassline rattling his bones through his mattress, there was still something in the back of his head…this little thought that wouldn’t quiet down no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
Sure, it had worked, acting like a couple of stupid kids in (gag) love. In fact, it had probably saved their asses. Bakugou could admit that, even if it made him want to light his room on fire. Still, blowing their target to smithereens would have gotten the job done faster, and he wouldn’t have this annoying little voice, buried so far back in his brain, piping up to tell him that kissing Deku had actually been…kind of…
No. No no no. Hell no. He was not about to let himself think that. Not in a million years. He would stuff himself into a barrel and go careening over the edge of the tallest mountain he could find before he’d let that happen.
And there was the knock on his door. Probably Iida come to give him a piece of his mind. Sighing, Bakugou hauled himself off the bed and opened the door and-
“Hi…Kacchan.”
He slammed the door again, right in Deku’s face.
Another knock, and he groaned. “Deku, quit bugging me.”
“Kacchan, I just want to talk.” A beat. “I’m not going away and I’m going to keep knocking until you-“
He shut the music off and pulled the door open one last time. “What.”
Deku still had one fist raised, blinking in surprise as he stood there with it hovering over Bakugou’s chest. He slowly lowered it. “I…just wanted to talk,” he said again. “About what happened on the bridge the other day.”
“Well I don’t.”
“I wanted to apologize.”
Bakugou huffed. Apologize. For what? For making a split-second idiotic decision that ultimately saved their skin? “Don’t waste my time, Deku,” he insisted. “You don’t have to apologize, and I don’t want to stand here listening to you whine about how you don’t want this to affect our friendship or whatever.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Sure seemed like you were going to.”
“No, we would have gotten caught otherwise and could have put U.A. in danger, not to mention ourselves.” Bakugou blinked in surprise as Deku shrunk back a bit, that flash of confidence retreating again. It was always…interesting, if nothing else, seeing that side of him. A little peek into a bolder, braver, less shy and sniveling Deku. He watched as Deku toyed with the hairs on the back of his neck. “I mean, don’t get me wrong…if we’d had time I would have wanted to at least give you a heads up instead of just springing it on you like I did.”
Bakugou looked him up and down, eyes narrowed, waiting for the rest. But when all that came after was silence, he finally said, “So what are you trying to apologize for then?”
“Well, we were only out there because of me…I was the one who wanted to follow her in the first place, and you got caught up in it-“
“What, you think I can’t make my own damn decisions about where I go and what I do?”
“No, that’s not-“ He pressed his lips together hard, his face twisting into a pout as he muttered something to himself under his breath. Something that sounded an awful lot like stubborn. If it made this conversation end quicker, Bakugou was willing to let that one go. “Fine…I won’t apologize then.”
“Good.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t too much? The-“
“For the last time, moron, I don’t care about the stupid kiss.” He rolled his eyes, leaning on the doorframe and hoping to God the heat he could feel in his face wasn’t visible. “It doesn’t fucking matter. People get so caught up in stupid shit claiming that their first kiss is supposed to be special or something. Like it’s actually important.”
Deku was quiet for a long time. Too long. Bakugou didn’t really get why until he finally spoke again and made him realize what he’d just said: “Kacchan…was that…your first kiss?”
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
Face blazing, Bakugou slammed the door again without another word.
Fucking Deku.
Okay, so maybe there was something going on.
Not a crush. Not in a million years. Even just thinking about that word made him want to vomit. And besides, crushes were supposed to make people feel bubbly and happy and all that tender shit. This feeling inside him just made him want to punch stupid Deku in his stupid face.
No, he wasn’t crushing on anyone. He was pissed. And he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but he knew with certainty that Deku was at the center at all of it.
He was angry.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Deku.
Therefore he was angry at Deku.
It wasn’t hard to figure out. What was hard was figuring out how the fuck to deal with it. He was used to people pissing him off day after day, but this was different. This lingered like a bad smell or an aching muscle. Even when he was alone, it kept racing through his mind. All day. All night.
Deku kissing him.
Deku kissing him
Deku fucking kissing him.
He was going to go crazy if he didn’t figure out some way to stop the parade of instant replays in his head. It was giving him fucking heartburn.
So what the hell was he supposed to do? Not just let it fester, that was for sure. He wasn’t about to back down form a fight, no matter who it was with.
He had an idea.
Deku was predictable in his routine, at the very least. Studying after class, training in the evenings…he was an easy guy to find most of the time, which worked out well for Bakugou now. He found him outside, ignoring the threat of rain looming not too far off. Hell, he’d probably still be out here if it was pouring.
Bakugou stopped a few feet behind him. “Hey.”
Deku turned on his heel, wide-eyed and sweaty. “Kacchan-“ He blinked. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, something’s wrong,” Bakugou huffed. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” His fingernails pressed hard against his palms. “I didn’t realize it at first, but you know what? I finally figured it out. I’m pissed at you. I’m really fucking royally pissed off at you, Deku.” The way Deku looked at him, all curious and concerned – it made Bakugou clench his jaw so much it hurt, just to stop the knot that was tightening in his chest. “I don’t want to be though. It’s distracting me. It’s making me…making me foggy, and it’s all thanks to you.”
There was a pinch in Deku’s brow, his lips pressed together as he stared at Bakugou like he’d grown another head. “You’re…not really making any sense, you know that?”
He balked, just for a second. Enough to make him feel like his center of gravity had shifted for just the span of a heartbeat. “The fuck do you mean I’m not making any sense? I’m telling you, loud and clear. I’m-“
“Pissed at me, I know.” Finally, he turned to face him fully, shoulders square and head held high. There it was – that simmering confidence in him. Something Bakugou saw so often nowadays, but kept forgetting somehow. “I already tried to apologize for what happened, and you didn’t want to hear it. So why are you telling me this now?”
Bakugou opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Instead he just stood there, probably looking like a beached fish.
“Do you want to fight me again? Is that it?” Deku asked, frustration simmering just under the surface. Threatening to boil over. Maybe it was because he’d been training. Maybe it was something else. But no matter where it came from, it made Bakugou’s heart do an odd somersault in his chest.
Since when did it have such an effect on him? Remembering that Deku could dish out a thousand times more than he allowed himself to most of the time…
He shook off that feeling when he felt it creeping up as heat at the tips of his ears, and he pressed his knuckles against his opposite palm. “I wouldn’t mind pounding you into the dirt.”
Deku huffed – huffed – and turned around. Back to him. Like a moron. “I’m not fighting you again,” he sighed. “Not if that’s going to be the only way to find out what’s actually going on inside your head.”
“What, you want to talk? You want to have some bullshit heart-to-heart, Deku? Fine-“ He grabbed Deku’s arm, clamping down on that firm biceps of his and tugging until they were face to face again. “You know what really pissed me off about what happened? You got lucky. Like you always get lucky. That’s why you got that quirk of yours. That’s why you’re at U.A. That’s why we got off that damn bridge without getting caught. Because you’re lucky.”
There it was – that flare of anger in his green eyes.
“I didn’t get into U.A. because I’m lucky,” he said. “I worked just as hard as you or anyone else to get here.”
“Yeah right.”
There was a part of him – a tiny part of him – that wanted to see that flame in his eyes burn brighter. That wanted to see Deku quit holding back for the sake of politeness and niceties and just channel the same unbridled passion he had when he was fighting. Because that was the Deku that Bakugou figured could compete with even him, who pushed him to be his best, who reminded him he could never afford to slack off or get distracted.
Maybe if he could coax that out, it would knock something right in his head. Maybe it would get him back into fighting form.
Maybe if Deku was the cause of his problem, he could be the solution too.
“Face it, Deku,” he huffed, “If it wasn’t for a couple of lucky breaks, you wouldn’t even be standing here right now.”
“That’s enough!” The outburst was enough to push Bakugou back a step, and damn Deku’s eyes were blazing. Like a wildfire at its peak. “You can’t keep doing this, you know. I try to apologize and you shut me down. You tell me you’re angry but you won’t explain why – and I don’t believe for a second that it’s because you don’t think I deserve to be here, because you know better than anyone how hard I’ve worked to get where I am.” He took a step forward, and Bakugou took another back. He felt like a fighter being pushed against the edge of the ring, facing down an opponent who’d just gotten a second wind. And it had his heart pounding so hard he thought it was going to bust right out of his chest.
But not from fear – no, he’d never be scared of Deku, of all people. It wasn’t anger either. No, there was something else to it. Adrenaline and excitement pumping through his veins as Deku held his gaze.
“And for the record-“ he continued. “I didn’t get lucky on that bridge either. If we’d run, she would have seen us. If you’d fought, someone could have gotten hurt. If we’d done nothing, she would have figured it out, and any of those would have been my fault if I let them happen. And I didn’t care if it would make you angry with me, Kacchan, because I wasn’t about to let you get hurt because of me. Because that’s not what a hero would-“
Bakugou…
Well…
He did something stupid.
He did something monumentally, unbelievably, irredeemably stupid.
One second he was watching that fire burning bright in Deku’s eyes, watching his face burn red and his fists clench tight – thinking about just how much power was really stored up in that body of his – and the next moment, he was moving. Muscle memory cocked his arm back, adrenaline screaming at him to throw a punch, to channel all this energy into something – anything – before it burned him. But instead of a fist to Deku’s face, he curled his fingers around Deku’s collar and-
Kissed him.
Again.
Hard.
And god, it felt good.
For all of two seconds, at least, before he came back to his senses. And then it felt…not quite as good.
Deku – to his credit – didn’t send him flying or pummel him into the ground. God knew he could have. If Bakugou had been him, he would have. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe it would have been better than having to pull away and stagger backwards and feel his dignity melting off of him like ice.
“I’m – uh…” He tried to talk. Tried to for a single coherent sentence, but nothing was coming out. Because try as he might, he wanted to be angry. Anger was familiar. Comfortable. Easy. This was…something else entirely. “I…just…ah…fuck.”
Before he gave Deku a chance to get in another word, Bakugou hauled ass back toward the dorms, intent on burying himself under the foundation the moment he got there.
He knocked on Kirishima’s door. Which was a bad decision. He didn’t even want to do it. But if he didn’t do something he felt like he might actually explode, so he weighed his options and settled on this…a halfway decent one.
Okay, maybe a quarter decent. An eighth. A sliver.
Regardless, he knocked on Kirishima’s door.
By the time Kirishima answered, Bakugou was already tapping his foot hard enough to rattle the hinges, fingers tapping against his arms. The second the door opened, Bakugou forced his way inside and slammed it shut.
“Dude, what the hell? Do you know what time it-“ Kirishima stared at him. “Whoa, what the hell happened to you?”
“I’m gonna say something,” Bakugou forced out. “And I’m only gonna say it once. Once. And you can’t say a single thing back, or so help me I’ll turn your bedframe into kindling and roast you over it.”
“Wow…that’s…menacing.”
“I mean it,”
“Okay! Okay…alright. You got it. I won’t say a word. Cross my heart.”
Bakugou took a breath, arms folded in front of him, vein pulsing in his temple. He tried to form his mouth around the words. Tried to get them out through sheer force of will.
I might have a crush on Deku.
I might have a crush on Deku.
I might have a crush on Deku.
“I…I might…” He groaned. “Fuck it. Nevermind. Forget it.”
“What?”
“I said forget it!”
“Wait, wait, wait – hold on! Is this about the kiss thing-“ He leveled Kirishima with a glare. “Uh…because if it is…”
This really was the worst idea he had ever had, by far. Seemed he couldn’t make a good decision to save his life these days. At least he could make one now – and that was slamming the door open and making a bee-line down the hall far away from whatever Kirishima was about to say next.
He might have a-
He couldn’t even make himself say it in his head right.
God-fucking-dammit.
The next evening, Bakugou went to the roof of the school. There was a back stairwell that was supposed to be off-limits to students, but this late in the day it was painfully easy to slip through the door and make his way up, perch on one of the vent covers near the edge and pop in his earbuds to drown out everything else for a bit.
He wasn’t the sort of guy to get introspective, but he could admit sometimes it was nice. And this way he didn’t risk Iida coming after him for breaking the noise code in the dorms. Kirishima was smart enough to know to leave him the fuck alone up here, he was pretty sure Kaminari didn’t even know it existed, and he damn well knew he wouldn’t have to deal with-
The door opened, and he pulled out one earbud ready to tear whoever it was a new orifice, but…
Son of a bitch…
“What the fuck are you doing up here?” he spat, and Deku lingered by the door.
“Kirishima told me you might be here,” he admitted. "He said this is where you come to...um...well, I think his word was 'brood.'"
Fucking traitor.
Deku must have noticed the way his face twisted up, because he added, “He seemed like he was worried about you. Said you’d been acting kind of strange.”
“There’s nothing to fucking worry about,” Bakugou huffed, and to make his point he shoved his earbud back in and turned around. Maybe if he ignored him long enough, Deku would get the hint and leave. It would save Bakugou the trouble of having to launch him off the roof to get some peace.
Like that would help. His own head was driving him crazy these days.
But that was Deku’s fault too.
“Could I…sit here?”
Bakugou turned and looked at him, feeling his face flush before he could stop it. He thrust his gaze forward again. “Even if I say no, I figure you will anyway.”
“I want to talk about this,” Deku said as he sat down beside him, proving Bakugou’s point. “This…thing.”
“What thing?”
“You know what thing.” There was a splash of pink on Deku’s cheeks. “You kissed me.”
Would it make even a single ounce of sense if he claimed he was just trying to get back at him for kissing him first? No, of course it wouldn’t. But Bakugou couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say that would stop his face from heating up. “That was nothing,” he said instead.
“No it wasn’t,” Deku countered.
No. It wasn’t.
Dammit.
“Kacchan…”
Arms crossed tightly over his chest, boot stomping against the concrete as hard as he could manage, Bakugou kept his gaze locked on the horizon as he spat, “Fine, you want to talk about this so bad, then listen up because I’m only gonna say this one time.” Deku blinked, looking at him expectantly – Bakugou could practically feel that earnest gaze of his against his temple.
As much as he wanted to keep that anger stoked inside of him to help him shake off all the other emotions that had suddenly been let loose, it clearly hadn’t helped. Not a bit. In fact, it was only making things worse.
So he took a breath, sighed, gathered his resolve, and said, “I’m…sorry.”
That made Deku’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide and lips parted in a surprised little O. Damn, was it really so shocking to hear him apologize for something? Apparently so, because Deku couldn’t manage a single reply, so Bakugou was forced to fill the uncomfortable silence himself: “All that shit I said about you just getting lucky…that was low. And bullshit. You’re-“
He groaned. God, why was this so damn hard to get out? It was bad enough thinking it, let alone saying it to Deku’s wide-eyed slack-jawed face.
He forced it out all in one go: “You’reoneofthestrongestpeopleIknow.”
Deku let out a tiny little gasp, and then- “Kacchan…”
“I’m not gonna say that again.”
But he meant it. Of course he did. If there was one thing Deku could do – maybe better than anyone – it was push Bakugou to be better. To be his best. Even if it was infuriating to admit, and even if Deku didn’t even realize it himself, there was nobody else around who could do it as well as Deku did. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be half the hero-in-training that he was if not for-
God, he was not going to go there. He wasn’t even ready to think that yet.
But Deku…in that supremely Deku way of his…just smiled. “You don’t have to say it again. Your head would probably explode.”
Where the hell did this sass come from? All this new confidence and wit…had it always been there, or was Bakugou just starting to see it now? When had Deku stopped…flinching around him?
When had they become equals?
And when the fuck had Deku gotten so damn pretty?
His brain was broken. It had to be. It was busted beyond repair and he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to get by with it held together by duct tape and sheer force of will.
“And I know you didn’t mean it,” Deku said, scooting…closer? Until their legs were almost brushing. But he seemed comfortable with it. And Bakugou didn’t quite mind either. That was new too. “You’re a lot of things, but you’re not…cruel. Not the way a lot of people might think.” Deku’s head was canted up toward the sky, his expression pensive. “But you’re also not wrong, you know.”
“I’m not?” Bakugou asked before he could stop himself.
“In a way…I am here just because I got lucky. I work hard…I give every bit of myself to stay here and get stronger, because I have people like you pushing me to do it. But…none of that would matter if I hadn't been given this power. If All Might hadn’t chosen me to hand it down to. But I’m not going to let something like that stop me, even if I was just some quirkless kid who got lucky.”
Bakugou fiddled with his earbud wires. “Is that all you came up here to tell me?”
That flush was back on Deku’s face. “Not…exactly.” He smiled. “I wanted to talk about that kiss too, but I figured you might actually blast me off the roof if I tried.”
The temptation was there, yeah.
“If you want, we could just pretend it never happened.”
Did he want that? Part of him seemed to but not all of him.
“Or…”
Or.
Bakugou felt like his heart might explode out of his chest any second if he didn’t get it under control. “What, did you come up here to try and woo me or something, Deku?”
A rustle of clothes, shifting in the corner of his eye, and Deku was facing him. Close. Oh, so very close. “I mean…what would you say if I did?”
Forget confident. Forget sassy. Forget pretty. When the hell had Deku gotten so smooth? And what was Bakugou supposed to say to that?
The flush on Deku’s cheeks only got redder a second later, that momentarily flash of confidence receding again as he put a few more inches of distance between them. “I-I’m not trying to woo you. That’s not…I just…well, when you kissed me-“
“Do we have to talk about that?” Bakugou muttered.
“We weren’t trying to escape from anyone,” Deku continued. “You did that because…you wanted to, right? So I thought…maybe you might…” His face looked like it was on fire as he finally finished, “…might…want to again?”
Did he?
Really, honestly, when he turned it over in his head, did he?
Because judging from the way Deku was looking at him – looking at his lips, which made Bakugou feel like he had already gone careening over the ledge of the damn roof – it sure seemed like he did. And if that wasn’t enough to make his head spin, he didn’t know what was.
“Why the hell would I want that?” he ground out, but Deku didn’t miss a damn beat.
“Well, you did already do it once. I thought you were about to throw a punch, but…”
Yeah, so had he. That kiss had caught him by surprise too, and that was the understatement of the century.
“I don’t know-“ Why was this so hard to say? Why was everything so hard to say? It felt like he was talking underwater. “I don’t know how to – to do any of this shit. Or say-“ Bakugou groaned, cursing under his breath. “Shit, I’m bad at this, Deku.”
“You know you’re allowed to be bad at things right?” Deku said with a little chuckle.
“I know that.”
“I’m bad at this too.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“So maybe we could just…start over?”
Bakugou blinked, staring at him. “What do you mean?”
Deku pulled in a breath, like he was getting ready for a fight, and there was a spark in his eyes as he said, “I’m going to kiss you, okay?” The waver in his voice be damned, that flash of confidence that Bakugou had been seeing in him more and more made his stomach flip. “So just…tell me if you don’t want me to.”
For the first time, Bakugou actually saw it coming. Saw Deku lean in closer, felt a shaky puff of breath against his own lips and the electric current running through his entire body. He knew exactly what was about to happen, but at the same time had no idea. It was uncharted territory.
But he’d never been one to back down from a challenge, so he leaned in instead.
Without the adrenaline and the desperation and the frustration of their first two kisses – if those even counted at all – it was…clearer. Quieter. Deku was just as gentle as always, barely putting any pressure behind it at all, his fingers just barely brushing Bakugou’s knee.
Huh.
This was…nice.
For a moment, his mind went blank, tension melting out of his shoulders and neck as he let out a sigh. Who would have thought that kissing Deku would make him feel so calm? When all it had done before was rile him up, wind him tighter than a guitar string, make him think he was going to combust at any second? It didn’t feel like a fight. It felt like…
Well, like nothing he’d felt before. But that wasn’t a bad thing, really. Turned out uncharted territory could be pretty damn pleasant.
Even when Deku pulled away again, it took Bakugou a second to open his eyes, and Deku was-
Laughing?
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Bakugou huffed, and Deku just covered his mouth with one hand, cheeks pink and giggles muffled against his palm.
“Nothing,” he snorted. “Honestly, it’s not – I’ve just…I’ve never seen you make that face before!”
What, like he could help sitting there with his lips parted like a gasping fish after Deku had kissed him? On the roof. At sunset. Like a damn romance novel. His face was blazing hot. “The fuck do you mean you’ve never seen me make this face? What’s wrong with my face?”
“Nothing’s wrong with your face.” Deku was still smiling, a little dreamily. His hand brushed against Bakugou’s elbow and damn, it was almost impressive how quickly that little touch made his anger melt away. “I’m sorry for laughing. I didn’t mean anything by it, honestly.” Another giggle bubbled up from his throat. “I guess I’m just kind of impressed that I’m still in one piece.”
Before he could stop it, Bakugou let out a snort. Maybe all of this had finally scrambled his brain. “Shut up,” he said, and damn, even felt himself cracking a loopy little smile.
One that faded when the door slammed open. “There you are!” Kirishima bellowed. “I was looking all over for – uh…am I interrupting something?”
“KIRISHIMA YOU FUCKING MORON, GET THE FUCK OFF THIS ROOF BEFORE I THROW YOU OFF!”
Odd as it was, as Bakugou tore toward the door with heat sparking across his palms and Deku close behind him, he felt more himself than he had in days.
Bakugou…may have dented the maintenance door to the rooftop.
And he…may have accidentally alerted a few people with his yelling.
And they…may have gotten a not-so-friendly talking-to about that. Trespassing in an area that was off-limits and shrugging off safety regulations and all that. Something about damage to U.A. property. He didn’t pay much attention.
But they were stuck with common area cleaning duty anyway, and Kirishima couldn’t quit smirking every time he looked at him.
“What?” Bakugou spat as he stared at his broom, trying to will the last few dust bunnies out from underneath the sofa.
“Just impressed is all,” Kirishima said. “Took a lot of guts to finally make a move. You of all people!”
“Shut up – nobody made a move.”
“Oh, so you two were just hanging out on the roof at sunset with nobody around because you were what? Studying? Does math homework usually put that kind of dreamy smile on your face?”
Bakugou felt a vein throbbing in his forehead. “Keep talking and you’re gonna get this broom halfway up your-“
“I’m done with the vacuum,” Deku announced, and for a moment he locked eyes with Bakugou and suddenly there was a little knot cinching in his chest. One that made his cheeks go hot and his grip on the broom to tighten until he thought he might snap it in half. “If…uh…if either of you needs it.”
“Right,” Bakugou choked out.
“I can’t help but feel like a third wheel,” Kirishima mused. Maybe he should snap this broom in half, he thought. It would make a better weapon that way. “I’m just gonna…go dust over there.”
He left with a firm pat on Bakugou’s shoulder. Tempting fate again. Bakugou glared at him, but a second later Deku was standing next to him with the vacuum in hand.
One painfully long silence passed, and Deku finally whispered, “You know…if you’d rather not…tell anyone about this, I’d understand.”
Bakugou turned to look at him, frowning. “Why the hell would I want that?”
“I just thought you might not-“
“No, fuck that,” Bakugou insisted. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. I’m not gonna waste my time with that sort of thing. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly planning to go shouting it from the rooftops or anything but…we…this…” Words…why were words so hard… “It’s not like I’m ashamed of it.”
Even if he still couldn’t fathom when and how the hell he had fallen for Deku of all people. Then again, he didn’t really see how it could have been anyone else, in a twisted sort of way. He wasn’t about to go calling it fate or anything, but maybe it was somewhere close.
Deku was staring at him, smiling wide and genuine with his eyes shining as he clung to that damn vacuum. “You mean that?”
He liked actions instead of words. Saved time that way. “Hey, Kirishima,” he called, and the moment that familiar shock of red hair popped around the corner, Bakugou grabbed Deku’s sleeve and planted a kiss on his lips.
Kirishima looked like someone had just knocked the wind out of him.
Bakugou ignored the heat in his face and the splash of red on Deku’s as he pulled away, handing Deku the broom and taking the vacuum to point it at Kirishima’s slack-jawed face. “Last thing I gotta do is vacuum under the couch, so go finish the fuckin’ dusting so we can be done already.”
Yeah, this was going to take some getting used to.
So far, though…well, so far, so good.