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“I can’t do it. I give up.” Kirishima groans. He slumps back into his chair across the table, pencil discarded with a flail of his hand.
“Giving up isn’t an option.” Bakugo snaps. He lunges across the table and grabs Kirishima’s pencil, tossing it at his head. The redhead laughs as he catches it.
“Man, fine. Can you just–” He runs his hands through his hair, making his bangs stick out at weird angles. “Explain it to me one more time?”
Bakugo huffs, adjusting his elbows on the table as he leans forward. Kirishima doesn’t retreat out of his space anymore, and Bakugo doesn’t wait for him to. They’re in their third year now, graduating in a few months. They’ve been through too much to fear closeness like they used to. Bakugo trails his finger across Kirishima’s paper and Kirishima watches the way his brow eases as he focuses. Kirishima has been wanting the approaching future for his entire life, but as it gets closer he realizes he doesn’t want to leave this table behind forever.
Bakugo’s eyes flicker up, catching Kirishima staring. His gaze lingers for a second before he scowls. “I’m not explaining this shit a third time, Kirishima.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Kirishima shakes his head, looking at the page. “I’m listening.”
“These fuckers,” Bakugo taps one section of the equation, “Have to die first. That’s your problem, you always tackle this shit in the wrong order.”
“Ugh, I know. I don’t mean to! I just…can’t keep track of it all.” Kirishima mutters.
Bakugo rolls his eyes, flopping back into his chair. “That’s because you rush it, idiot. Look with your eyes before you start moving your damn pencil.”
“But you’re staring at me!”
“Huh?” Bakugo glares, “How the hell else am I supposed to see if you’re doing it right, stupid?”
"I know, I know, but it makes me feel like I have to go fast when I know that you’re waiting!”
Bakugo rolls his eyes again. “Right, ‘cuse I got so much else going on right now.” He gestures to the empty common room around them. They’re the only ones studying on a Saturday.
“Still! You stress me out.” Kirishima says, unable to bite back the smirk when the words escape. Bakugo snaps his eyes to him.
“Oh, I stress you out, do I?” His sneer tilts into a smirk too. There’s a second of silence between them before Kirishima hardens his arms right as Bakugo lunges across the table. They both devolve into a fit of wrestling each other, cursing and laughing as Bakugo tries to shove the pencil into Kirishima’s hands while Kirishima pretends to shout for a hero to help.
Kirishima’s so caught up in the moment that neither of them hear the door open. He only freezes when he hears someone clear their throat.
Both of them still, hands intertwined, Bakugo half on the table and Kirishima about to fall off his chair. Aizawa lingers by the doors with an eyebrow raised.
“Sorry to interrupt.” He says flatly.
Bakugo yanks his hands away and slumps back into his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Mr. Aizawa!” Kirishima greets. “What’s up?” As he’s talking, he notices a small flash of white before Eri steps out from behind their teacher with her hand in his.
“Eri!” Kirishima beams, careful not to shout too loud in his excitement, “Hey, good to see you!”
“Hi Kirishima,” She responds quietly with a wave. She’s become much more outgoing over the years, especially with the students of Class A, but her voice is still quiet and slow, and she still sounds out every syllable of their names like she’s afraid of getting them wrong. She turns slightly towards the blonde and waves to him too. “Hi Bakugo.”
He nods to her in acknowledgment. She smiles and tucks herself a little closer to Aizawa.
“I’m looking for Midoriya.” Aizawa says as his eyes scan the space.
“Midoriya?” Kirishima repeats. He glances at Bakugo, “I didn’t think he was on campus.”
Bakugo shakes his head. “Izuku’s home for the weekend. Inko’s sick. He’s takin’ care of her.” Aizawa frowns, looking confused. Bakugo squints. “Didn’t you sign his form to let him go?”
“I…did…” Aizawa says slowly. He blinks, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “Toshinori brought me the form, I approved it without realizing it fell on the same day. That’s my mistake.”
“What did you need Midoriya for?” Kirishima asks, leaning his chin on his hands.
“I have a meeting this afternoon. Both myself and Mic are needed and Mirio’s working. Midoriya had agreed to watch Eri. The conflict slipped my mind.” He eyes the boys sitting at the table. “You two don’t seem busy.”
“Sure, we can watch Eri for a bit!” Kirishima says, at the same time Bakugo says, “Fuck no.”
Kirishima pouts at Bakugo, the blonde glares back. Aizawa sighs.
“You’d be doing me a huge favour.”
The scar on Bakugo’s cheek scrunches as he frowns. He jabs a thumb in Kirishima’s direction. “I’m trying to help this idiot study for your exam so his dumbass doesn’t fail it. We don’t have time to babysit.”
Aizawa looks between them. “For the midterm? Is it the math section you’re concerned about, Kirishima?”
He nods sheepishly. “Yes, sir. Kats has been a big help, but I’m still not really sure I’ll–”
“I’ll give you a 5% bonus on that section if you do this for me.” Aizawa blurts.
“What?” Bakugo shouts. Kirishima gapes.
“Can you–” He hesitates, “Can you do that?” He glances at Bakugo, “Can he do that?”
Aizawa shrugs. “It’s my exam.”
“That’s totally cheating!” Bakugo snaps, slamming his hands onto the table. “And we’d be watching the brat together, how come Kirishima gets the bonus and I don’t?”
“Are you saying you need my help?” Aizawa says flatly.
“I don’t need your fucking help, it’s just the principle of the damn thing! Screw your bonus!”
Aizawa hums.
Kirishima turns back to Bakugo, eyes wide and pleading. “I need this, Kats. You have to do this, for me.”
“I don’t have to do anything for you!”
Kirishima clasps his hands together, dropping his head onto the table. “Please, please, please, please. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Stop begging!” He grabs Kirishima’s hands and shoves them away. Kirishima lifts his head to pout again.
“It’s not like we’re doing anything else! And that bonus would solve all my stress for me. Please , Katsuki.” He continues to pout until he sees the familiar twitch in Bakugo’s eyebrow. It takes everything in him not to smirk at the first sign of collapse.
Right on cue, Bakugo huffs, expression falling to a softer annoyance as he pulls away and slumps into his chair. He slides down the back of it, tilting his chin up towards the ceiling.
“Fine.” He groans. “We’ll watch the kid. But you’d better be serious about that bonus for Kirishima.”
Kirishima’s already out of his chair, hurrying closer to Eri with a wave.
“Thank you,” Aizawa sighs. “The meeting shouldn’t run much longer than an hour.”
He crosses the remaining distance to Eri, crouching in front of her and outstretching a fist.
“Er-bear, how’s it going?” Kirishima greets.
“Good,” Eri says quietly, giving Kirishima the world's softest fistbump.
“Can I pick you up?” He asks, holding out his arms. Eri nods and steps closer and Kirishima swoops her up with ease, hugging her for a second before he settles her on his hip. He’s only gotten stronger since first year, and though Eri’s grown a little, she still weighs practically nothing. He can hold her easily with one arm hooked under her legs.
She stares at his shoulder, exposed in the t-shirt he cut the sleeves off of. He feels her poke at his muscles.
“Your arms are bigger than Aizawa’s now.” She says, bewildered.
“Hey.” Aizawa deadpans. Eri giggles and hides her face in Kirishima’s shoulder.
He beams and flexes his bicep. “Well of course, gotta make sure I’m big and strong if I wanna be able to save people like you!”
Eri smiles, rolling up the sleeve of her dress and scrunching her face as she tries to flex her bicep too.
“Woah, you’ll catch up to me at this rate!” Kirishima laughs.
“I’m gonna be the next Red Riot,” She says, pressing her fists together in Kirishima’s signature pose. He grins even wider.
“Katsuki, the kid’s coming after my brand!” He calls over his shoulder. He stills when he catches the blonde’s expression, softer than he was ready for. It morphs into a smirk as soon as he’s looking.
“She’ll kick your lazy ass right off the charts, probably.” Bakugo drawls.
Kirishima holds a hand to his heart, mimicking offence. Bakugo only grins wider.
He turns back to Aizawa, bouncing Eri in his arms gently. “We got this man, go to your meeting thing.”
Aizawa nods, looking to Eri. “Is it alright if I leave you with Kirishima and Bakugo for a little while?” When Eri nods, he smiles and pats her head. “Okay,” He looks back at Kirishima. “Text me if you need anything.”
“Sure thing, teach!” Kirishima waves as Aizawa turns for the door. “Have fun at your meeting!”
“I won’t.” Aizawa says.
He chuckles as the door swings shut behind their teacher.
He hears Bakugo’s chair squeak as the blonde stands. Eri waves to him again as he approaches, and Kirishima glances over his shoulder just in time to catch Bakugo raise his hand just slightly in response. His heart clenches from the cuteness of it all.
Eri holds out her fist expectantly, and Bakugo rolls his eyes as he taps it with his own. When he pulls away and opens his palm, he lets a tiny explosion off. Eri giggles and cheers, and Kirishima swoons over his best friend, just a bit.
“So, what did you wanna do?” Kirishima asks Eri, “You want anything? A snack? A drink?”
“Well…” She wrings her hands together, eyes falling to the floor. Kirishima smiles to reassure her. He recognizes her little nervous tics by now. Though Eri has come out of her shell a lot, she still has trouble asking for things.
“Whatever you need, Eri,” Kirishima tries to reassure her, “Don’t be afraid to ask.”
She turns towards his chest, twisting the fabric of his shirt around her finger. “I was just a little hungry.” She admits.
“No problem, we can get you some food. Kats and I haven’t had lunch yet anyway.” He looks over to Bakugo, who nods and starts back towards the kitchen. “Did you want something specific?”
“Last time I was here I had those noodles that were really good?”
“Damn right you did.” Bakugo mutters, tugging open the fridge door.
Kirishima laughs. “Katsuki made those.” He carries Eri with him into the kitchen, making sure to linger outside of Bakugo’s space as the blonde starts to pull things from the fridge. “Do we have the stuff to make it again?”
Bakugo nods. “Get me a pan and then stay out of my way.”
“Sure thing.” Kirishima does as he’s told, setting the pan on Bakugo’s favourite burner and making his way back to the table. He glances at Eri, “You sure Katsuki’s food isn’t gonna be too spicy for you?”
Eri shakes her head firmly. “I like it spicy.”
Bakugo smirks. “Tough kid.”
“You’re just like him.” Kirishima says fondly. “Here, let’s sit down while we wait.” He returns to his spot at the table, pulling out the chair next to him and setting Eri down. She squirms and readjusts until she’s comfortable on her knees. She looks over at the homework still scattered on the table and makes a face.
“That looks hard.” She mumbles.
“It is,” Kirishima sighs. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to do this stuff yet, enjoy it while it lasts.”
“She’s smarter than you, so it won’t be a challenge for her.” Bakugo calls from the kitchen. Kirishima sticks his tongue out at him. Eri giggles.
“We don’t have to worry about this math anyway,” Kirishima says, happily tucking his homework away. “My only job right now is to hang out with you.” He opens his notebook to some blank pages near the back and slides his pencil case over. Eri happily grabs it, rooting through to start doodling. Kirishima notices that at some point she stopped holding the pencil in a fist like a toddler and gets a little emotional about how fast she’s grown up.
He glances over at Bakugo, who is deeply focused on prepping the food. The knife moves fast in his hand, but he’s still not as quick as he used to be with his right arm. The months he was in recovery were the only time he ever let Kirishima stay in the kitchen with him while he cooked.
He listens to the scratch of Eri’s pencils on the paper. She’s quiet in her focus. He keeps his eyes on Bakugo, flickering his stare over his new scars, the additional muscle that curves across the slope of his shoulder. He dresses a little more stylized now, baggy jeans and fitted tanktops instead of shirts and sweats. Kirishima thinks that’s Jeanist’s influence. A couple bracelets decorate his arm. One that Kirishima gave him, another that matches with the rest of the squad. They’re accessories no one would have been able to convince him to wear a couple years ago, and though he bitched about putting them on, now he never takes them off. Kirishima knows he also has a matching All Might keychain with Midoriya, though he keeps it on his keys so no one notices. His nails have the chipped remainder of black polish clinging to them. He gives into Mina’s pleading once every few months and lets her practice on him. He is different. Changed. He’s older, more mature, a little taller and a little buffer, definitely a lot prettier. But his eyebrows still furrow in the same spots. He still slouches over the countertop the same way. And he still knows the feeling of Kirishima’s eyes on him. He still never flinches away when he looks up and meets his stare. There’s some sort of challenge in the look every time. Kirishima doesn’t dare to answer it.
He looks back at Eri and blinks in surprise. She’s designing dresses, and the art is a pretty shocking quality for her age.
“You’re getting really good at that,” Kirishima says.
“Thank you.” Eri mumbles, colouring in one of her dresses purple. “Hado has been teaching me.”
“Katsuki was right, you're a fast learner. Faster than me.”
She smiles as she finishes colouring the last dress, leaning back and looking satisfied. Bakugo drops some of the vegetables in the pan. Eri looks up at the sound of the sizzling, then pushes her chair out and hops off, wandering over.
Kirishima doesn’t bother to stop her. He knows Bakugo will be kind to her, or at least as kind as he ever is. And despite Eri’s shyness, Bakugo’s gruff demeanor never seems to bother her too much. Maybe that comes from having Aizawa as her father. Or maybe she spent so much time familiar with Overhaul’s violent anger that she sees through Bakugo’s feigned annoyance.
Kirishima frowns to himself and shoves the thought away, instead watching as Bakugo glances at the approaching girl. He opts to ignore her, stirring the things in the pot as she watches. Then she steps a little too close to the stove, rising on her toes to look at the pan.
“Oi, oi, oi,” Bakugo scolds. He pushes her back gently. “Gonna burn yourself on the oil if you stand that close, kid.”
“I just wanted to watch.” Eri pouts. She surges forward and Bakugo pushes her back again. “Please.” She pleads.
With a huff, Bakugo drops the spatula and hoists her up onto his hip. He angles his body away from the pan. It means he has to stir with his bad hand, but he voices no complaints. Kirishima watches him stretch his fingers before he picks up the spatula again. Eri starts asking quiet questions about what he’s doing, and despite his scowl, he answers them all in a calm, focused voice, pointing to things with his pinky as he explains.
Kirishima melts a little bit at the image. He has the sudden thought that Bakugo would be a good dad. Then he has to look down and pretend to be scribbling something on the paper in front of him until his blush fades, because that was one of those decidedly not best-friend-like thoughts to have about your best friend.
“Ei,” Bakugo calls. Kirishima jolts. He and Bakugo had given each other permission to use given names at the start of second year. Kirishima hasn’t stopped enjoying the way “Katsuki” sounds – or the smugness he gets at being the only one who can say it– since, but Bakugo only used "Eijiro" on the rare occasion, when he was sure they were alone. The use of the even fonder nickname has Kirishima's full attention. He wonders what made it slip out now.
When he looks up, he reads the demand for help instantly. There’s not any specific tell, it’s just something he knows instinctually by now. He makes his way over and Bakugo jabs an elbow towards the spices. Kirishima slides them into his reach, then switches with him to hold the spatula. He listens as Bakugo explains what he’s doing to Eri, then nudges Kirishima out of the way to check on the noodles.
When Eri rests her head on the blonde’s shoulder, he lets her, falling quiet as she watches him cook. Kirishima leans against the counter, settling way too close to Bakugo’s space considering he’s cooking, but the blonde doesn’t seem to mind. Kirishima watches him adjust his grip on Eri as he moves back to the other burner.
“Have you ever thought about doing this?” Kirishima blurts.
“Doing what?” Bakugo mutters.
“You know,” Kirishima nods at Eri. “Having kids. Starting a family.”
Bakugo’s eyes dart from the pan to Kirishima. “With you?”
“No!” Kirishima shouts. “That’s not what I meant!” He waves his arms frantically, feeling the way his face heats up. “I just realized we’ve never talked about it before. I know everything about the kinda hero you want to be when we get outta here, but nothing else about what you want for your future.”
Bakugo shrugs, eyes never leaving the pan. “Never put that much thought into it.”
“Really?” Kirishima hoists himself up to sit on the counter. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”
“What do you want?” Bakugo mumbles. It surprises Kirishima that he’d even care to ask, he’d been expecting him to drop the conversation.
He glances at Eri, who looks content where she’s laying against Bakugo’s shoulder, eyes droopy as she watches the food sizzle. He knows they’re only 18, but this feels so simple.
“I think I’d want kids.” Kirishima says, for the first time in his life. Only as the words escape does he realize he’s picturing it with Bakugo. He’s the only one who Kirishima can imagine making it feel this easy. But it’s too late to take it back now. “Not any time soon, obviously,” Kirishima looks away. “But maybe eventually.”
Bakugo hums, an acknowledgment that he was listening. Instead of responding to that, he just says, “Get the table ready?”
“Sure,” Kirishima whispers, unsure why he feels a little breathless.
Bakugo sets Eri down and she skips after Kirishima. She reaches her hands up and he lets her help set the table, giving her the chopsticks to carry. She follows dutifully, babbling about how the food smells really good. She is so little and so cute and Kirishima thinks that yeah, they could do this, then tucks the fantasy away into the back of his brain forever.
Bakugo stirs the sauce and veggies into the noodles and serves them at the table. He slides the juice towards Eri and the milk towards Kirishima in a way that is definitely meant to make fun of his complete lack of spice tolerance. Kirishima sighs dramatically to let him know that he got the message. Bakugo smirks like he won a competition.
Lunch is so domestic it hurts Kirishima’s chest. He carefully asks Eri about her progress with her quirk and is surprised by how much she’s willing to talk about it. He listens actively as she explains, and every once in a while Bakugo pipes in with commentary. For the most part, the blonde sits there watching them across the table in a surprisingly content silence. Kirishima is enamoured by his simple existence, and he can't distract himself from his earlier thoughts. It’s weird to be projecting his desire onto Bakugo. It’s weird to be imagining him as Kirishima’s partner, second father to their kid. They are only 18 and they are just friends, but every once in a while Kirishima laughs a little too loud and catches the way Bakugo’s eyes flick to him, and a part of him wonders if there is the tiniest, slimmest chance that Bakugo is thinking the same thing.
Kirishima clears the table when they’re done eating. Bakugo leads Eri over to the couches while Kirishima rinses their dishes and tucks them into the dishwasher. He hears the blonde mention video games and watches Eri crawl onto the couch beside him.
“Nothing too violent, Kats!” He calls.
“Huh? Why the hell not?” He shouts back. A few seconds later he grumbles, “I don’t do games without violence.”
“Katsuki, seriously.” Kirishima insists. He shuts the dishwasher and hurries over to them, lowering his voice. “It’s the blood.” He whispers, nodding to Eri.
Bakugo stills, falling quiet. “I don’t have anything else.” He grumbles. Kirishima thinks for a minute, then grabs the controller.
“I do.” He says. He opens the cabinet in the T.V. stand and has to dig through the bucket of Nintendo Switch's until he finds his. At some point all of them started to keep them under the T.V., and with how many video game-addicted teenagers there are in the dorm room, it quickly became a fiasco to find your own. Thankfully, Kirishima’s bright red controllers and the several Crimson Riot stickers on the back make it easily distinguishable. He puts it on the doc and snaps the controllers off only to discover that they’re dead. With a quiet curse he roots through the bin and steals Kaminari’s, but one of his is dead too- which seems like it should be impossible for Kaminari- so he takes one of Sero’s. He slides back on the floor until his back smacks Bakugo’s shins. He braces for him to shift away, but he only shifts his feet so Kirishima can lean against the couch between his legs. He feels a rush of fondness again as he turns on the Switch.
He has to scroll really far back in his library to find the game he’s looking for, but he finally locates Animal Crossing and opens it.
Bakugo scoffs behind him, dropping an elbow onto his shoulder as he leans over him. “Since when do you play lame shit like this?”
“I don’t usually,” Kirishima mutters, “Sero made me get it so he could buy my turnips or something.”
Bakugo snorts and pulls back. Kirishima misses the pressure of his arm.
“I know this one,” Eri says excitedly. “Dad plays it sometimes.”
“Aizawa plays this?” Bakugo says, voice bordering a laugh.
Eri shakes her head, “No, Yamada.”
Kirishima freezes. He whips his head around to look at Bakugo, who’s staring at Eri in stunned silence. His eyes slowly drift to meet Kirishima’s.
“Did I…did I say something bad?” Eri mumbles, voice growing nervous.
“No, no!” Kirishima says quickly, “Sorry Eri, nothing bad! Here, why don’t you make a character?” Kirishima passes her the remote, and she seems content to lean forward and occupy herself with the game.
Bakugo is still staring at him. Kirishima’s shoulders lurch with a barely withheld laugh of disbelief. Mic and Aizawa? He mouths the words, grinning.
“ I fuckin’ knew it, ” Bakugo whispers. He cackles and Kirishima breaks too. They were definitely not supposed to find out, but now that he knows he feels a little silly for not noticing it earlier.
Kirishima turns his attention back to Eri when she says she’s done. He helps her set her character up in his world, and watches as she wanders around for a bit, mostly trying to catch bugs. She’s clearly aware of how to play after watching Mic, but she still does a few of those little kid decisions, like hitting the wrong things or doing things in a strange order.
They both watch her play for a few minutes before she nudges Kirishima with her foot. He turns to her, and she hands him the controller.
“I think I just wanna watch you play. Is that okay?” She whispers.
“Yeah, for sure!” Kirishima takes the remote and focuses on pulling weeds. Considering he only opened this game maybe twice before he gave up on it, he has a lot of work to do. He hears Eri readjust on the couch behind him and feels Bakugo’s legs tense against his shoulders. When he looks back, the girl is curled up against the blonde’s side. Kirishima smiles at the sight and Bakugo shoves his face back towards the screen.
He focuses on his tasks again and actually gets pretty into it. He understands why him and Ashido had to drag Sero and Kaminari away from their switches every time they wanted to hang out for the first few months after the game released.
“Stop squirming,” Bakugo mutters gruffly, “Is it fuckin’ bothering you that much?”
Kirishima looks back to see Eri trying to shove some hair out of her face. The piece is wrapped around her horn, and every time she pushes it away it falls right back in front of her eyes. She nods slightly, muttering a quiet, “Sorry.”
Bakugo scoffs, gesturing for her to spin around. “Alright, come here.”
Eri turns and scooches back, and Kirishima watches, enamoured, as Bakugo scoops her hair off of her forehead and starts to braid it back. He’s so uncharacteristically gentle as he brushes the pieces off of her face and shoulders, slowly pulling it into the braid. Eri gets comfortable, eyelids fluttering as Bakugo cards his fingers through her hair.
“How do you know how to do that?” Kirishima mutters, definitely not a little in love and falling faster by the second.
“Dunceface made us all learn.” Bakugo huffs, “You just didn’t listen.”
“I’m shocked you did .”
“Shut up and cross your animals or whatever.” Bakugo snaps. He holds the braid together with one hand and outstretches the other, “But gimme one of your elastics first.”
Kirishima laughs and holds out his wrist. He knows he could just put the controller down and take it off himself, but a self-indulgent part of him wants to feel the gentle brush of Bakugo’s fingers on his skin, the light scrape of his short nails when he hooks his index under the elastic and tugs it free.
Bakugo turns his body to focus on tying off Eri’s braid. Kirishima gets away with watching for about thirty seconds before Bakugo’s foot nudges him in the side.
“Stop staring.” He mutters.
“Sorry.” Kirishima says, not looking away. Bakugo rolls his eyes. Eri opens hers to glance at them. Kirishima wonders how much she notices. It’s easy to discredit her because of her age, but Kirishima knows that she went through too much too young to be naive. Sometimes she watches them with a little too much awareness in her gaze. Kirishima wonders what she’s seeing. He wonders if she thinks about how he calls Bakugo by his given name and what that means. He wonders if she watches them and thinks that they remind her of her dads.
Eri shuts her eyes again as Bakugo frowns and picks at the braid, perfecting it. Kirishima leans back, tilting his head up to look at Bakugo. The blonde freezes, pulling his hands back as he looks down. Eri shifts and tucks herself closer to his side, drifting into sleep.
“What do you want?” Bakugo asks.
“Nothing.” Kirishima mutters. He looks at the upside-down image of Bakugo and Eri and smiles. “I know you haven’t thought about it, but I think you’d be a good dad.”
Bakugo’s face screws up in a way that means he’s flustered. He knees Kirishima’s shoulder hard. “What the hell? That’s so weird.”
“It’s a compliment!” Kirishima laughs, shoving his leg back.
“A weird one.” Bakugo insists.
“Whatever man, I’m just saying.” He shrugs. He sits up again, head spinning a bit from being upside down. He stares at the second elastic on his wrist and turns back to Bakugo. “Will you braid mine?”
He’s grown his hair out more since first year. The back pieces pass his shoulders now, and he notices it against his neck when it’s down like today.
Bakugo rolls his eyes, but reaches over and grabs at the elastic on Kirishima’s wrist. “So fucking needy.” He mutters. He grabs Kirishima’s shoulders and pulls him back against the couch a little too aggressively. And the combination of him saying those words with his hands on him makes Kirishima’s stomach twist a little. He stares straight ahead and clamps his mouth shut until he’s sure he can formulate a natural response, but Bakugo has moved on, already carding his hands through Kirishima’s hair. He suddenly understands why Eri fell asleep so fast as he hears her snore quietly at Bakugo’s side.
To busy himself, he picks up the controller and keeps playing, wandering a little aimlessly as he fails to distract himself from the focused way Bakugo tugs at his hair. His bangs keep slipping free, and he can hear Bakugo cursing them out as he keeps trying to wrangle them back, which by all means shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.
Eventually, Kirishima tells him to leave it and he does. Bakugo manages to braid back most of Kirishima’s fluff of hair to a degree that satisfies him. He leans back when he’s done and mutters something along the lines of “get fucking braided you shitty hair, no match for me” and Kirishima loses the nail-breaking grip he had on not falling in love with his best friend, slides the rest of the way down the cliff he’s been facing down since first year.
Again, Kirishima has the traitorous thought that he could picture this being the rest of his life. In fact, he wants it to be. What follows is the even crueller thought that this is going to end in a few months. He believes Bakugo is a good friend and a good person. Most of the time he believes that Bakugo really loves him, even if it’s not in the same way Kirishima does. But he still knows how Bakugo can get and how distance and time changes things, and that sometimes when people cling the way their whole class has, so tight for so long, as soon as they let go they can never reach out again. Trauma has done strange things to them all, and Kirishima knows that for all the times he really believes him and Bakugo have some special codependency, that nothing could ever tear them apart, there’s still a good chance Bakugo graduates and never looks back, and the only times Kirishima will ever see his face again is on merchandise he passes in the store. The thought terrifies him.
He’s literally jostled out of his thoughts by Bakugo’s knee, shaking him aggressively.
“Eijiro.” Bakugo snaps. Kirishima blinks and realizes he’s been sitting and staring at his unmoving character on the T.V. for a distinctly noticeable amount of time.
“Uh, sorry.” He blurts.
Bakugo leans over him, eyes sharp and brows furrowed. “Where the fuck did you go?”
“Nowhere, sorry.” Kirishima insists, avoiding Bakugo’s gaze. “Was just thinking.”
“Obviously.” Bakugo scoffs. “About what?”
Kirishima shrugs, which earns him another knee to the ribs.
“I hate when you do that shit.” Bakugo mutters.
Kirishima turns to face him fully, eyes darting to Eri. She’s so little where she’s curled up beside him. He doesn’t want to get into it all with her here. They’re supposed to be babysitting, and Kirishima’s having existential dread about the future while Animal Crossing music plays in the background.
“I’m just gonna miss you.” He mutters. “When we graduate.”
Bakugo’s eyebrows furrow deeper, somehow. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak the doors closest to them fly open.
“You insist that you’re not judging my purchases but I’m getting some real ‘ judging Denki’s purchases ’ vibes from you.” Kaminari’s voice announces loudly. He’s looking over his shoulder at Jiro, who’s trying to protest through her cackling. There’s a whole crowd of them, Kaminari and Jiro and Ashido shoving through the doors at the same time, their shopping bags crinkling and shoulders bumping as they collide. Sero and Yaomomo follow behind them, Sero’s shouting over Ashido to get some other jab in at Kaminari, and Yaomomo is politely hiding her laugh behind her hands as she steers Ashido off a collision course with the pile of shoes by the door.
“Shut up idiots.” Bakugo snarls, astoundingly quiet for him.
“Hey guys!” Ashido says, just as loud, her eyes fall on Kirishima and she squeals, “Kiri! Your hair looks so cute like that, I could die!”
Kirishima holds his hands up, chuckling. “Thanks Mina. But can you–”
Kaminari gasps as he shoves his bags into Sero’s arms, using both hands to point at Kirishima's hair, then to Bakugo. “You learned that from me!” He shouts. “You do pay attention when I talk!”
“Huh, what was that?” Bakugo grumbles, looking away.
“Guys, seriously,” Kirishima tries again
“Aw, come on Kacchan, don’t be like that now!” Kaminari whines. Sero chuckles as he passes Jirou the bags that are apparently hers.
“I’ll kill you!” Bakugo snaps. Which is what finally wakes Eri up. She sits up, rubbing at her eyes as she peers over the back of the couch.
Ashido gasps again, slapping her hands over her mouth.
“Oh my god, Eri!” She squeals as she runs over to the couch, “Hi my angel! Did we wake you up sweetheart? I’m so sorry!”
“Mina,” Eri mutters. She smiles and holds her arms up, and Ashido squeals again and lifts her over the couch. Jiro and Yaomomo crowd closer to say hi to her while Sero and Kaminari flop onto the couch beside Bakugo.
“Dude, not you playing this two years late.” Sero teases as he nods at the T.V.
Kirishima laughs. “It was the only non-violent video game Kats and I had for Eri.”
Sero snorts. “Shocking.”
“Eri was asleep when we walked in.” Kaminari notes, “You still had the game up.”
Kirishima grins up at him. “Maybe I’m starting to understand your addiction.”
Kaminari waves his hands frantically. “Nuh-uh, no way man. You had your chance. You can’t get into this now . You’ll pull Hanta and I right back into that hyperfixation hell with you and then we’ll all fail our exams, again. ”
“Not that it’d make much of a difference for you idiots.” Bakugo snorts.
“Hey, we’ve grown!” Kaminari insists.
“Yeah right.”
Yaomomo mentions tea and Sero stands to help her. Ashido and Jiro are couched to talk with Eri, but when Jiro mentions she’s heading upstairs, Kaminari is off the couch and following like a puppy. Eri takes Ashido’s hand as she leads her back to the boys.
“How did you two get trusted as babysitters?” She asks with a hand on her hip.
“We’re great fucking babysitters Raccoon eyes!” Bakugo snaps.
“Midoriya was busy.” Kirishima says with a chuckle.
Ashido nods to his response before she shoots Bakugo a look. She tosses her hair over her shoulder– an action she has not stopped doing since it grew out long enough to do so– and crouches beside Eri again. “Was Bakugo mean to you, Eri? You can tell me, I’ll beat him up for you.”
Bakugo rolls his eyes and gives Ashido the middle finger. Eri clasps her hands together and shakes her head.
“Bakugo isn’t mean. He’s just loud.” Eri says. Ashido bursts out laughing, but Eri continues, “...and I shouldn’t be afraid of him because he’s gonna be a hero just like the rest of you. That’s what Aizawa always says.” She mumbles.
“He’s talking about me behind my back?” Bakugo snaps.
“Aww, wait, wait,” Ashido’s voice softens as she smiles and waves a hand, “That’s actually really sweet.”
“Yeah, man, that’s a compliment coming from Mr. Aizawa” Kirishima nods.
“You’re gonna be a hero just like the rest of us,” Ashido coos. She dives forward to pinch Bakugo’s cheeks, which sends him cursing and rolling off of the couch. He knocks into Kirishima, who laughs and lets him roll across him to try and escape.
“Mina, stop terrorizing them!” Sero calls from the kitchen. “Come get your tea.”
“Caffeine!” She cheers, forgetting the boys and turning to skip over to the kitchen. Bakugo basically growls at her as she leaves, his hair wild and shirt disheveled from his escape. Kirishima laughs as Eri shuffles closer to his side. She’s smiling too, and it always makes Kirishima soft to see her enjoying their class antics. He pats her shoulder gently, both of them ignoring Bakugo’s consistent cursing as he stands and fixes his shirt.
“Sorry we woke you up.” Kirishima says quietly. “I hope you slept okay before that.”
“It’s okay. I like when it’s noisy in here.” She says softly. She smiles. “And I slept good. Bakugo has nice shoulders.”
Kirishima laughs as he stands. “Yeah, he sure does.” He doesn’t think the blonde is paying attention until Bakugo freezes and narrows his eyes at him. Kirishima stills.
“Damn right I do,” Bakugo says slowly, sounding confused. He shoves his hands in his pocket as he steps up beside Kirishima, like it’s natural to stand in the space beside him even if they aren’t going anywhere. Kirishima wonders if he’s imagining him shifting closer. Eri blinks as she looks between them, and Kirishima thinks that he really has to stop accidentally flirting in front of the kid, she’s been through enough.
He is once again saved by the opening of a door. This time when he turns towards it he sees the familiar hunched silhouette of Aizawa, looking significantly grumpier than he did before the meeting, though his expression softens when he sees Eri. Amusingly, Present Mic is with him, which Kirishima realizes now is a pretty common occurrence that was simply never noteworthy before.
“Hey kiddos!” Mic says with a big wave.
“Kirishima, Bakugo.” Aizawa greets with a nod as they reach him. “Glad to see everyone’s still in one piece.”
“Can’t believe you doubted us.” Kirishima jokes. He grins maybe a little too wide as he says, “Hi Present Mic.”
Bakugo snorts quietly and elbows Kirishima in the side. Aizawa narrows his eyes at them as he picks Eri up.
“If I’d truly doubted you in regards to Eri’s safety, I wouldn’t have left her with you in the first place.” Aizawa says firmly. Ashido, Sero and Yaomomo greet their teachers from the kitchen, and Mic wanders away to chat with them. Aizawa’s eyes follow him for only a second before they focus on Bakugo and Kirishima again. Kirishima’s heart aches a little bit. Hadn’t they been friends in high school, too? Maybe he wasn’t entirely hopeless.
Aizawa looks at Eri and asks, “Were they tolerable?” Eri nods and giggles, and Aizawa smiles fondly. “Good.”
Mic returns after a moment, and when he reaches Aizawa he parks himself in the space beside him. The movements are all so familiar that Kirishima feels like he’s looking in a mirror for a second, and has to try not to get his hopes up even more. Aizawa looks to Mic and says “Ready?” It’s so soft that Kirishima wonders how he never saw it before. He waits for Mic’s confirmation before he looks at the boys again.
“We’ll let you two get back to your studying.” Aizawa says, with a slightly pointed eyebrow raise.
“Wouldn’t have gotten distracted in the first place if it weren’t for you,” Bakugo grumbles. Aizawa only hums like he doubts it, giving them one last look before he turns for the door.
“Bye Kirishima, bye Bakugo.” Eri calls as she waves at them over Aizawa’s shoulder. Kirishima waves back, and he’s almost a little sad that the time passed so fast.
There’s a loud clatter from the kitchen as soon as the teachers are out the door. Ashido yelps, and Kirishima looks over to see Sero catching a mug with his tape just before it hits the floor. Ashido lowers off of her tiptoes sheepishly.
“Good catch.” She compliments.
Yaomomo shakes her head gently. “I can’t keep creating new dishes, Mina. Iida is starting to be able to tell the difference between the originals and the replacements.”
Sero laughs while Mina apologizes. Bakugo scoffs as he turns on his heel and bumps Kirishima’s shoulder with his own.
“Let’s get out of here. Not gonna get any studying done with the other idiots around.”
“Alright, sure. Just let me clean up.” Kirishima says. Bakugo moves for the table where their notes are still out while Kirishima finally turns off Animal Crossing and puts his Switch away. By the time he’s done, Bakugo has brought his backpack over for him, with everything tucked away neater than he would’ve done himself.
“Thanks man!”
Bakugo nods and leads the way to the elevator. He waits for Kirishima to get in and slaps the button to shut the door like he’s afraid someone will try to follow them. As the elevator noises hum quietly between them, he adjusts his grip on the strap of his bag and asks, “Your room or mine?”
It hits Kirishima again then, hard enough that it feels like it knocks him out of his own body. He doesn’t know if it’s the wording sounding so familiar, or the simplicity with which Bakugo says it or the act of leaving the common room that makes him think of endings. Maybe it’s the reminder that they have different rooms that makes him think of distance, wondering if they’re doomed to always have one wall left between them. Whatever the trigger, Kirishima is overwhelmed again with the crushing fear of change and finality and loss, of losing this with graduation. And despite the fact that he has quiet images of him and Bakugo in a house together with a kid, it doesn’t have to be that. He would settle for this, Bakugo standing next to him. He doesn’t care how he’s with him, just as long as he is. And he has so little control over if that’s the case it's almost enough to drive him mad.
“ Eijiro. ” Bakugo snaps. Kirishima blinks to see him leaning forward to hold the doors open. At some point they reached their floor. His face is showing blatant concern now. “What the hell is going on with you today?”
Kirishima hesitates. Overwhelmed by Bakugo’s attention, he hurries out of the elevator, like everything will be fine if he can make it to his room. He hears Bakugo shout, then the heavy footsteps of him following.
“Can you stop being fucking weird?” Bakugo snaps.
Kirishima stops in front of his door, fumbling to unlock it before he turns to Bakugo. “I have to ask you something.” He blurts.
Bakugo visibly tenses, stare sharpening. “Okay?”
Kirishima shoves the door open and Bakugo follows him into the room, looking like he’s braced for a punch. Kirishima shuts the door and spins to face him.
“When we graduate, would you move in with me?” He watches Bakugo’s reaction, and breathes a small sigh of relief when it’s not blatant disgust or suspicion, just…confusion.
“...What? Why are you asking me that right now?” He mutters.
Kirishima shrugs. There are a million ways to word it, too many of which border on a confession. He settles on the one that summarizes them all. “We make a good team.”
“I’m not starting a family with you.” Bakugo says flatly.
“Shut up,” Kirishima whines. He shoves Bakugo’s shoulder when the twitch of the blonde’s lip gives him away. “That’s not what I’m asking, man.” Bakugo visibly smothers his laughter.
“I’m serious.” Kirishima insists softly.
“...Fine.” Bakugo says.
Kirishima blinks. “Fine?”
“You deaf?” Bakugo snaps. “Fine. Yes. Sure, whatever.” He crosses his arms and looks away.
Kirishima remains in a state of shock. That was… so easy. He hesitates, self-consciousness creeping up. “I mean…hey…you don’t have to agree to it like right this second, you know? It’s just an idea. And it’s sort of a big decision. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. And obviously if something better comes up and you want to back out that’s totally–”
“Hey,” Bakugo interrupts. Kirishima goes silent. “Idiot. I already said yes. I don’t fucking agree to shit I don’t wanna do. You want to live together when we get outta here, we’ll live together when we get outta here.”
“Yeah?” Kirishima whispers. Suddenly all his fear of losing Bakugo is pitifully small and easy to ignore, because he’s going to stay. They’re going to move in together.
Bakugo smiles, soft and crooked. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” Kirishima breathes.
And after they graduate, they do.