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For Bakugou, it’s not that easy.
All his classmates are so…
Touchy-feely.
When he tries to even think about mixing in, he’s reminded that a single wrong move can lead to his quirk setting off and killing the nearest person.
So he removes himself from the equation.
It’s what he’s done ever since his quirk manifested.
First it was Izuku.
God, the kid was so… comforting? All the hugs, all the little hand touches, and knocking of elbows, and games of tag that…
That led to Bakugou pushing him away.
He couldn’t hurt his (formerly) best friend.
That would have utterly devastated him.
Next it was his mother.
His mother had never been… maternal.
But there were occasions when she would ruffle his spiky blond hair, or offer him her hand when they were crossing the street.
He put a stop to those too.
Bakugou never wanted to hurt anyone.
Now all he got from his mother was a cuff on the head when he cursed.
That was fine.
It had to be fine, because…
If it wasn’t, he’d have to confess that he hated being so…
Distant.
When he got to U.A, the self-named Bakusquad tried to include him.
Kirishima (Shittyhair) tried the hardest, slinging an arm over his shoulders, offering his hand for a high five, locking arms when he wanted to show him something.
Bakugou tried to get him to stop, like he did with Deku.
But Kirishima was persistent, dragging him down for movie nights, and class dinners, barging into his room to ask questions about homework, then staying because ‘but Bakubro, what if I have another question?’
And Bakugou let him.
Or rather, Bakugou stopped trying to make Kirishima go away.
Unfortunately, this drove a wedge in his walls.
Bakugou tried to throw it back up, because people could get hurt because of his quirk and he can’t have people close to him hurt because of him…
But the Bakusquad took this as the perfect opportunity.
This first one beside Kirishima was Mina, surprisingly enough.
She was always touchy feely… but she wanted advice. Advice on the people she was crushing on, even though Bakugou had absolutely no experience in that realm, and when he told her that, she just shrugged, ‘Then just let me vent a little?’
And he did.
And Mina got closer to him.
She grew on him, and Bakugou let her.
And then Mina made all the guys in the Bakusquad wear face masks, and Mina was… unafraid, wedging herself in between Kirishima and Bakugou just to put face masks on them and order them to stay still while she got her nailpolish…
Bakugou let her paint his nails.
Black, with little orange explosions.
He threatened to blast Mineta when he tried to make fun of them.
After Mina was Sero.
Bakugou was trying to put up some posters, All Might posters to be exact, but he also had a new Best Jeanist one that was being flattened on the floor.
Bakugou ran out of tape, and he was tentative about putting staples in his wall.
He was ready to give it up for the night, to wait until Aizawa came in, late Friday night to ask if anyone needed school supplies, or other school-supplied items. Like tape.
He could ask Kirishima, but he knew for a fact that Kirishima wouldn’t be able to find it, and he was the only person who knew about all of Bakugou’s posters.
Then there was a knock on his door.
Stomping over to answer it, expecting Kirishima, he was startled to see Sero in front of him. ‘Hey Bakugou, Kirishima said you could help with the math homework that’s due tomorrow… do… do you need help putting up some posters?’
And Sero wedged himself within the walls too, just helping Bakugou put up his hero posters without any judgement, laughing at the empty tape dispenser before dispensing some tape from his elbows.
The last was Kaminari.
It was odd that he was last, but Bakugou hadn’t planned to let anyone in, let alone the entire Bakusquad, so… someone had to be last.
For Kaminari, it was a training exercise… and Bakugou had to crack open his walls a little for him.
They were rescuing drowning victims.
Bakugou was paired with him.
Kaminari was really worried.
Understandably so, but Bakugou wasn’t scared, he knew that Kaminari could kill him in the water, but he could kill Kaminari at any time of the day.
“Oi,” he said, and Kaminari turned around.
“I promise I won’t set my quirk off, really, you don’t have to yell at me or anything, I’ll make sure I won’t, I’ll even stay out of the water if you want me to-” he stammered out, and Bakugou rolled his eyes.
“Chill the fuck out, I’m not worried,”
A little crack in the walls that Bakugou had created, and Kaminari slipped in like a beam of sunlight.
The training exercise went smoothly.
And there were 4 people who had seen beyond Bakugou’s walls.
Each of them were physical with him, undaunted by his quirk, undaunted by his personality… they forged on ahead, dragging him out of the room to cook dinner, or to join them for a game night…
Or Mina, kicking down his door to gossip.
Or Sero asking him for a paint scraper because he’s made a terrible mistake and needs to fix it before Aizawa finds out.
Or Kaminari, coming to him desperately for tutoring, and then sharing some worries about his quirk.
Then there was Kirishima. Who did all three. Gathered all together with minimal levels of self-confidence and red hair dye, asking for his help.
Bakugou’s fingertips were stained red for two days.
Then Kirishima told him that he liked him.
Liked… liked him.
Bakugou didn’t really know what to do about that.
But Kirishima seemed to know exactly what he wanted, spending even more time with Bakugou, now with their weekend dates added into the mix.
The first time Kirishima tried to hold his hand, Bakugou panicked.
He panicked in a way that he hadn’t in a very… very long time.
Kirishima hadn’t sprinted away, or told him to get over it.
He stuck with him, and when Bakugou had calmed, he asked ‘what happened?’ in the most gentle, sincere voice, his stupid shark teeth biting his lip.
And Bakugou shakily explained that he didn’t want Kirishima to get hurt by his quirk.
And Kirishima scoffed.
Full on scoffed.
And said ‘Bakubro, I’m literally invincible to most of your explosions,’
That solved some of his issues.
Bakugou tried to hold his hand again.
Weakly.
So that if he felt his quirk start to act up, he could yank his hand away.
But then Kirishima would grip his hand tightly, smiling at him stupidly as they walked around…
And Bakugou threatened to explode Mineta when he said something homophobic.
And Kirishima encouraged the change in other parts of his life too.
When Bakugou talked about his mother, his brow had furrowed as he said ‘Katsuki, mom’s aren’t supposed to act like that,’
And encouraged him to go for help.
Which led to a very awkward conversation with Aizawa, Kirishima at his side, gripping his sweaty palm.
But Aizawa hadn’t ignored him like the middle school teachers had.
He regarded him with angry eyes, and when his hand (with his phone) reached his face, Bakugou flinched back.
‘I’m not upset at you. We’re going to get you out of there, I just need to make a few calls first… for now you can stay with Mic and I,’ he comforted, and Bakugou nodded, unable to meet his eyes.
Then Bakugou was out of his childhood home, and into an apartment. With Shinsou and the little white haired girl Eri.
Shinsou had looked at him like he was faking.
Which didn’t make sense, but Bakugou accepted it.
Bakugou was the invader in the house, sitting through the awkward family dinners as he slowly grew accustomed to living with people who didn’t actively try to argue with him.
Shinsou and Bakugou were the early risers, partnered with Eri if she had night mares. But more often than not, Shinsou and Bakugou would sit awkwardly in the early morning, until Bakugou started his work out and Shinsou started on breakfast.
Shinsou was the first person outside of the Bakusquad.
Shinsou joined him on a run, one early morning, tying his shoelaces tightly, with shaking hands next to Bakugou as they ran out the door together.
Bakugou didn’t mention it.
But Shinsou did, when they got back.
“Sorry, I needed to get some energy out,” he said simply, toeing off his shoes.
“Aren’t you an insomniac?” Bakugou asked, and Shinsou shrugged.
“I get nightmares too. And this one was about you. So I had some energy, and I wanted to keep you in my sight for a bit… sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
“It’s whatever, don’t worry about it,” Bakugou said, as Shinsou wedged his way inside.
They made breakfast side by side, and Bakugou let it be known that Shinsou is welcome to join him on his runs.
Shinsou takes him up on it.
They don’t always talk, sometimes there's silence, sometimes they plop down on the side of the road to listen to Present Mic’s radio station, sometimes they talk, letting the run clear their head as they rant to each other.
Sometimes their conversations get uncomfortable.
Like when Shinsou told him how he came to live with Aizawa and Yamada.
Bakugou wanted to punch something.
And another time, when Bakugou explained, tight lipped, that he wasn’t used to the dynamic between Aizawa and Yamada.
Wasn’t used to not fighting with his parental figures.
Shinsou suggests that maybe his birth parents were in a quirk marriage.
Bakugou doesn’t argue.
Shinsou smiles at him, and when they get back inside, Shinsou nudges him.
“You can call me Hitoshi,”
“Then you can’t call me Bakugou anymore,”
And they were brothers.
Eri came about in a different way, less fighting for her way in, more slipping in between peoples legs and just looking at him and smiling until he accepted that she was beyond the walls.
It started when he was trying to help make dinner.
Aizawa and Yamada pretty much had it covered, but Bakugou felt bad for intruding in their household, so he offered to help. Aizawa just kept putting things in front of Bakugou for him to chop.
Then Yamada said “Hold this,” quickly turning back to the stove as Bakugou held Eri at arms length.
Eri was smiling brightly, even as Bakugou held her awkwardly. She was kicking her legs, giggling a little at his shocked expression.
And just like that, Eri was inside his walls.
He tried to keep her at arm’s length, but it didn’t work, as the little girl crept her way closer until he was hopelessly attached.
She was the only little kid who wasn’t hit with the Bakugou-effect.
That alone made her special.
After the two kids, came the parents.
His new parents.
Aizawa had let Bakugou into his house with no hesitation, calmly telling him that he was married, with two kids, each with their own trauma.
Yamada was making dinner, and he had smiled brightly, approaching Bakugou like he was welcome there.
Bakugou was tense.
He usually was, but being here, with this family was… odd. Every one of them knew each other so well, he was awkward, trying to figure out a roll in the family.
He eventually settled on brother for Eri and Hitoshi, the two of them welcoming him in.
It took a lot longer to feel welcomed as a son.
He tried to pick up where he knew, with chores and cooking, but oftentimes, things didn’t need to be done, or when he got there on weekends, Aizawa and Yamada looked at him strangely when he asked for cleaning supplies.
When he tried to explain that he did most of the cleaning for his mother, his birth parents were fashion designers, and were always busy, they needed a clean space… Yamada had looked at him sadly, and Aizawa had sighed.
“You don’t need to worry about that here, Shouta and I are grown men, we can clean,” Yamada had said, and Bakugou had swallowed roughly, still confused.
“But then what am I supposed to do here on weekends?” Bakugou asked, and their faces fell.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Aizawa was the first to recover.
“Schoolwork, cooking, training,” Bakugou listed, and Yamada looked down.
“Hey Dynamite, only one of those really counts as a hobby,” he said softly, and Bakugou… was confused.
“I don’t need a hobby for school,” he said, and Aizawa rolled his eyes.
“It’s not for school. Having a hobby helps you unwind,” he said and Bakugou felt like he was descending lower and lower in confusion.
“I hike to unwind,” Bakugou suggested weakly, and the two teachers smiled a little.
“That’s a hobby,” Yamada said.
“Well,” Aizawa said, and Yamada slapped him on the arm, and Bakugou let out a little huff of laughter.
“I have some stuff in a storage closet, if you want to try some things out? Maybe pick something to learn, that you can do if you have free time?” Yamada said and Bakugou nodded.
That’s how Bakugou started pottery.
There was something very satisfying about working with clay, whether it was throwing it to get the air bubbles out, or throwing it when he wasn’t very happy with it, or the splatter of clay…
He gave the first successful vase to Aizawa and Yamada.
It was basic, a little wonky, but colored with little divots of not completely smoothed clay, they were both smiling too brightly.
The vase ended up on the center table, available for anyone who visits to see.
They always talk about it.
Which encourages Bakugou to make more.
He works on a pitcher that Yamada says he’ll use to make lemonade. So, Bakugou hand painted the lemons on it before firing it. He presents it to Yamada and he smiles so big, Bakugou thought his face would split in half. Yamada uses it religiously.
Then he worked smaller, a mug for Aizawa that the man uses everyday in class.
Bakugou watched All Might run into Aizawa, and the mug shattered on the floor.
All Might had never faced such a severe tongue-lashing.
It made pride swell up in Bakugou, even as he made him a new, better one, and Aizawa…
Aizawa apologized.
For breaking it.
To Bakugou.
And Aizawa wedged himself into the walls, next to Hitoshi.
The clay became safe.
Safe for him to use and form any way he wanted, constantly morphing and changing.
The apartment became safe.
Safe for Bakugou to express himself without fear, and to be loved as he changed.
Changed into something better.
Bakugou let himself be sucked into the world of touchy feely.
He let himself tell them one by one to call him Katsuki, and they had smiled at him, Eri barely understanding, but loving the change.
Then Yamada asked if he had trouble hearing.
Katsuki admitted yes, tentatively, because any other time he had brought it up with his mother, she had scoffed.
Yamada smiled, showing Katsuki that he had hearing aids, because his quirk had made him hard of hearing, and Katsuki felt himself relax.
When they went to the doctor to get his hearing checked out, Yamada had stayed by his side.
When Katsuki was fitted for hearing aids, Yamada was by his side.
When Katsuki was finally able to hear sounds the way he had when he was a little kid… Yamada was there.
Yamada was there for the whole journey, there to smile at him when Katsuki realized that there were so many sounds in the world that he was missing.
Yamada was there to just sit and listen with him.
And so Yamada leapt into the walls, standing with the rest of his family.
Katsuki let himself be less afraid of his quirk.
Allowing himself to be physical again, only to discover that he absolutely craved it.
He began to relax into the hugs from his family.
Relax when Eri came up behind him to grab his legs.
Relax when Hitoshi shoved him jokingly while they made dinner.
Smiling when he read Eri bedtime stories, or frowning when Eri had another nightmares, asking to sleep in his bed so she didn’t bother their parents.
He let her, every time, even though it hurt that she went through it.
Hitoshi was up more often than not.
Sometimes because of insomnia.
Sometimes because the only sleep he got was disrupted by nightmares.
In the middle of the night, when Hitoshi would come to him, Katsuki would go down the stairs to the room dedicated to his pottery, and Hitoshi would sit across from him, watching Katsuki form the clay until the sun peeked over the horizon, and the two of them would go for a run.
Or on the days when Aizawa would patrol, and the three siblings were up late with Yamada, worried for Aizawa because he didn’t say that he was late, but each child seemed to unconsciously know that one of their parents wasn’t home, only to find Yamada pacing in the living room.
He welcomed them in, hugged them, and sat them down on the couch where they waited.
Hitoshi started knitting a scarf, shoulders tense as his brother and little sister watched.
Katsuki couldn’t bear to pull himself away to work with clay.
Even if he could, the clay wouldn’t work with him at a time like this, when his hands were shaking and he could barely focus on Hitoshi’s nimble fingers working the yarn.
Eri was sitting in his lap, gripping his nightshirt.
She was starting to doze, still young, even as she worried.
Aizawa came in through the doorway and was bombarded by the four other members of his family.
He reported that there was a thug on his way home that went down fairly quickly, but destroyed his phone and stole his pager.
Yamada nodded.
The three siblings nodded, and slowly, each of them headed up the stairs to go back to sleep, their worry diminishing as they wished their parents good night.
Sleep was always rough those nights, every child up earlier than they should be the next morning, running or playing with Eri to calm their shaken nerves before they had to head to school.
At school, Katsuki’s quirk felt less volatile than it did before.
It was still dangerous.
But there were less sparks than there used to be.
Katsuki felt less volatile.
He figures it’s because he’s relaxed now, no longer being constantly yelled at when he’s at home.
He was happy.
And changing.
And safe in the arms of his family.