Chapter Text
When the house next door goes up for sale, everyone is heartbroken.
The family that lived in it were beloved members of the community and close to everyone on the block. They’d lived there for over twenty years and finally decided after their third and last child moved out, there was no reason for them to have such a big house anymore. They’d downgrade, live simpler, but still come around to visit and of course they’d still see everyone at church on Sundays for mass and still join in for book club every other Saturday.
There were lots of tearful promises and heartfelt goodbyes even when they still hadn’t even moved yet, but that status didn’t stay that way for long.
The house got plenty of interest, being such a nice family home and in such a good area. Two stories with a fenced in backyard and three bedrooms, two baths, well kept and well loved, with plenty of good memories within and even more room to add more.
Everyone expected the house to go to another family, maybe a young couple with a baby already and another on the way, but that didn’t happen.
Kirishima didn’t know at first, being seventeen in high school and much more concerned about finishing his senior year, but as the days turned into weeks, turned into a month and then two and the sales sign changed to ‘under contract’, that’s when he started to pay attention, because people started to talk.
He heard it first from his mother on the phone in the kitchen, her voice low as she spoke to who he could only assume was one of their other neighbors.
‘Can you believe they’d sell to someone like that ?’
Rumors spread. People talk. It’s the one thing about living in such a tight-knit community-- there’s never anything secret for long.
And the more Kirishima hears, the more he listens. At first it’s all vague. Someone unmentionable, unwanted. It doesn’t sound like the family who goes to church and waves hello that everyone wants and in fact sounds about the exact opposite.
More details come out when the bi-weekly book club comes around and, afterwards, Kirishima finds out that the woman who used to live in the house, who’s selling it, is no longer welcome in their book club.
He hears that her defense was that it was an offer that they couldn’t say no to.
Cash thrown down, in full, and apparently the almost new owner didn’t seem so bad, by her words.
Everyone else’s words were much, much worse.
He heard his mother curse for the fifth time in his entire life that he could remember. Standing outside on their front porch with the neighbor from across the street, gossiping and drinking lemonade.
'This neighborhood is going to go downhill fast.’
‘I still can’t believe they’d actually think to sell to some...some...whore!’
‘Not just a whore, but a gay one!’
‘Disgusting. In a community with all these children too?’
‘He’ll go to hell with the rest of them.’
‘Damn right.’
---
Construction happens before movers show up. Trucks and vans with men moving in and out of the house. Kirishima watches them all from the windows or from the porch when he comes home from school, standing there just watching as people carry in large sheets of mirrors carefully with ladders and buckets and paint.
It’s here, standing on his porch, backpack still on his shoulders, that Kirishima gets his first sight of the new neighbor. The one people keep calling names and he hasn’t even moved in yet.
He comes out of the house wearing a tank top and shorts with black boots on. He’s easy to spot among the other men wearing uniform shirts, jeans, carrying tools and equipment.
The new neighbor is tall and lean with toned arms and legs that Kirishima can clearly see in his minimal dress. Ash blond hair in wild spikes and a sharp look in his eyes as he instructs someone working in the house that Kirishima cannot see or hear. The man turns, eyes catching with Kirishima’s, and he waves at him.
Kirishima startles, embarrassed for being caught looking, and quickly darts inside.
At dinner that night, his mother warns him to stay away from their new neighbor. Says that he’s dangerous, no good, will go to hell and burn for his sinful lifestyle. Kirishima’s made to promise he will, agreeing with her and everything she says, even though his mind races with every word that leaves her mouth, wondering very quietly how bad this man must be if he’s getting his mother so upset already.
At church, they pray that the new neighbor will leave. Pray that he’ll see the error of his ways. Pray that maybe he’ll find God living where he is and turn towards the light instead.
It all sounds contradictory to Kirishima, but he doesn’t voice this at all, he simply holds his hands tight and whispers out an ‘amen’ at the end of every prayer.
Even his youth group talks about him. Some of the kids were not even living on his street, but rumors spread quickly around the church.
They say he’s a stripper. That he works at a gay nightclub and got all his money by being a prostitute. They say already that he does drugs, that he’s a criminal, and all the kids giggle about it like they’re talking about a television show instead of someone’s actual life.
They also turn to Kirishima for information, asking him if he’s seen him, if he knows anything, if he feels comfortable now living so close to someone like that and Kirishima doesn’t know how to answer any of them.
He doesn’t want to say he’s seen him and won’t speak on how he feels about living so close, because right now he doesn’t feel anything. The man is a stranger and they’ve been told to not judge so harshly until they know someone’s true self, but here he is with people already wanting the worst.
He tries his best to ignore it all, but there’s only so much he can ignore until the moving truck shows up.
It’s on a Wednesday at least, so most people on the block are at work or school, but when Kirishima arrives home it’s clear that the house is now lived in instead of being in a transitional stage.
The man’s car is parked in the driveway. The windows are open, lights on, and Kirishima can see him moving around inside, boxes in hand, with the soft sound of music flowing through the open windows.
His name is Bakugou, Kirishima finds out, when his mother comes home from work seething as she talks to one of her friends on the phone. Kirishima sits at the dining room table doing his homework and she makes no attempt to be subtle.
“He’s there blasting music already!”
It’s not blasting. Kirishima can’t hear any of it being inside.
“Bet he’s going to put up one of those flags too!”
The house didn’t come with a flag holder on the porch. Kirishima wonders quietly what sort of flag he’d want to put up anyway.
“I tell you, he’s going to corrupt our children with that devilish lifestyle.”
That night, again, he’s made to promise to stay away, to not wander down a path of sin, and Kirishima nods while not looking his mother in the eye.
Over the days to follow, he knows that promise of keeping away is a bit hard to keep.
Bakugou is right next door, after all and Kirishima has caught glimpses of the man coming and going. And, well...not that he would ever mention this to his mother and she doesn't seem to notice yet, but Kirishima's bedroom window aligns almost perfectly with Bakugou's.
It’s not a fact that he really cared to think about when the previous family lived there, but now he steals more glances than he should.
Though, again, Bakugou kept odd hours because of his job. It's not like Kirishima gets more than a notice of the lights being on or the moving figure of Bakugou through the window.
Until he does.
Until Bakugou has a day off and Kirishima's in his bedroom doing homework, looks up when movement catches his eye to find his sinful neighbor in his bedroom-- lights on, blinds open-- stretching. It's not even overly sexual clothes, just a tight fitted workout shirt and a pair of shorts, but it's more skin than Kirishima's virgin eyes have ever truly seen on another person, at least in real life, and when Bakugou bends down and Kirishima can clearly see how the shorts spread across the expanse of Bakugou's ass, looking to be barely holding it at bay, well....
Kirishima has to immediately shut his textbooks, crawl into bed, and say a constant stream of prayers until his sinful thoughts move away from that backside. He’s never felt that before. Never looked at someone and felt...arousal. Not like that. It's so embarrassing he can barely look anyone in the eyes the next day.
But it happens again. And again.
Suddenly, Kirishima is seeing more than he ever expected of his neighbor. And sometimes, it's little things like watching the man walk around while brushing his teeth, but all he wears to bed are low hung sleep pants that give Kirishima the view of how his hips dip down.
Kirishima lays in bed thinking about his neighbor, confused, as his dick twitches at the thought of him and that sensation forces guilt to wash over him. He's never felt like this before, overwhelmed by a single being enough that his thoughts constantly stray towards sins of the flesh.
He hides it well, however, or as well as he can manage, though Bakugou is constant in his thoughts throughout the day-- school, church, at the dinner table when his mother asks him questions about his classes or friends.
Kirishima thinks one day he'll slip because he thinks of Bakugou so frequently. How a story about what happened at school will somehow morph into telling of what Bakugou's day-off routine is. How flexible his body is. How he doesn't like to wear a shirt while inside.
How Kirishima has seen him wear nothing except his underwear at least four times by now and his favorite pair so far are the tiny red shorts that look to have shrunk as they cup his ass so tightly Kirishima swears it's just like having seen him naked. But he never says a word to her about his small obsession, knowing full well the consequences that would bring.
He holds his tongue and acts like a good boy, a perfect son, and ignores the ache in his chest and groin when seeing him, the beating of his heart, and falls to his knees more frequently in his bedroom to ask forgiveness for something he hasn’t done and doesn’t yet fully understand.
---
"Hey kid, either pick the grapes or get out of the way."
Kirishima jolts from his daydream, jumping as he nearly drops the bushel of grapes he holds in his hands, stumbling over his apology before he looks up to find a familiar pair of sharp red eyes staring back at him. His heart stops as he recognizes who is scolding him.
"S-sorry," Kirishima says and steps out of the way, putting the grapes he still holds in his basket to quickly move as far away as possible from his overly attractive neighbor who is right there next to him, so much closer than Kirishima's ever seen him through the window.
It's dangerous just how good he looks up close. There's an air of intimidation around him that makes Kirishima shiver and his blood pump loudly in his ears. He's just about to run away when Bakugou addresses him again and, being such a good boy, Kirishima doesn't want to disrespect an adult.
"You're that kid who lives next to me, right?" Bakugou side-eyes him as he picks out his own produce. "The one with the mom who keeps calling me a whore?"
"Y-yes," Kirishima swallows. "I mean, ah- I'm Kirishima Eijirou!"
Bakugou gives him a sort of half smile before introducing himself as well and after the pair fall into silence. Bakugou picks through the fruits and Kirishima stands beside him longer than he should, gnawing at his bottom lip until finally Bakugou looks over at him again.
"You shouldn't stare at people."
Kirishima winces, hands gripping his basket tightly. He should leave, but his feet won't move. He can't.
"Something on your mind, hu?"
Kirishima swears he tastes blood on his tongue, but blurts it out anyway. "A-are you actually a w-whore?"
The question startles Bakugou almost as much as it startles Kirishima who's eyes go wide as soon as the question leaves his mouth. He's flustered and apologizing and is running away before he can even think about it, dropping his groceries on the floor as he darts out of the store.
Bakugou doesn't chase after him, at least not that Kirishima notices, and before he realizes it he's nearly home, empty handed of the groceries his mother asked him for and Bakugou still dancing in his head. The sound of his voice, his smell, eyes, how close he was…
He can't think of an excuse beyond him forgetting to give to his mother, something like having started to not feel well maybe, as he trudges inside, hiding his red cheeks even as his mother tries to pester him. He does his best to reassure her he just needs some rest before he goes up into his bedroom, closes the door, and falls to his bed.
He's hard, he can feel how his erection presses between his body and bed, but can't be bothered with that right now, not even a prayer of sorry as he tries to wrap his mind around the encounter and burn the look of bright, red eyes into his memory forever.
He's only asleep for an hour, maybe, when he's stirred awake by the hurt of falling asleep without eating. He grumbles a little just as his stomach does, dragging his body from bed to sleepily stumble down the stairs hoping to find leftovers he can eat quickly, still wearing his clothes from school.
Near the last step, Kirishima freezes when he hears the sound of his mother speaking-- her voice is low, but sharp. A deadly hiss of what she typically sounds like, far worse than even when she raises her voice at him. The words are hard to make out from her, but the reply from whoever it is she might be talking to is loud and clear.
"Look, I'm not here to cause any trouble. Your son left his groceries and I just wanted to stop by to give them to you and make sure the idiot kid got home okay. He was pale when he ran out."
It was very distinctly their neighbor, Bakugou Katsuki, his voice gruff with a sharp edge that told Kirishima he was trying to hold back. Put on a show of calm even though he sounded ready to potentially snap back at his mother for whatever she was saying to him.
Her reply came a little louder, crueler, but still the only words Kirishima could fully hear were the very precise 'stay away from my son' before their front door was closed with enough force Kirishima knew he would have got in trouble if he had done it.
He stood on the stairs for a few minutes longer, dazed, before he heard his mother's feet pad away from the front door and into the living room. Almost instantly, Kirishima had forgotten about his hunger pains and without a sound climbed back up the steps and into his room, shutting the door as soft as he possibly could.
Even after he'd run off like he did, after he'd practically called Bakugou a whore to his face, the older man still came around to deliver the food he's left behind. Check up on him. Make sure he was home. Those weren't typically the actions of a bad man. And even if his mother was likely saying biting remarks, he tried his best to stay level headed even though he had every right not to be.
...he couldn't be that bad, right?
Kirishima sat in his bed thinking all of this until the flickering of a light turning on caught his eye.
Across the way, Bakugou had entered his bedroom and appeared to be angrily shouting at himself while practically ripping the clothes from his body.
Kirishima couldn't hear any of it through their walls and the distance, but he could see the frustration. The fast tongue, the hand movements and curling of fingers. After a while, Bakugou seemed to tire himself out, standing at the foot of his bed panting in only his underwear with a single pant leg still hanging from his foot.
It was then that Bakugou's frame turned towards the window and Kirishima found himself ducking down, trying to hide with the realization that Bakugou could potentially see him there on his bed staring in.
He didn't hide very well, however, as he had flopped down to lay as flat as possible, but still he must have been seen because as soon as he peaked up from his sheets, Bakugou was there staring back at him, his own window now open as he leaned out towards him.
Bakugou quirked a brow as soon as their eyes met, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he gestured for Kirishima to get up and open his window as well.
Kirishima had half a mind to die right there on the spot, maybe praying God above would smite him down instead of force him to continue embarrassing himself as he was. Sadly, that didn't happen, and even not wanting to disappoint his neighbor he slowly rose and with a little effort, unlatched and slid his window open.
Bakugou's whispered voice instantly filled the air. "You spying on me kid?"
Kirishima flushed, unable to help himself as he sputtered, not wanting to tell the truth because he knew it was wrong, horrible, and yet lying was also bad. But it wasn't as bad. He could repent later. Just a little white lie.
"N-no, Sir."
Bakugou snorted, rolling his eyes and very clearly not believing the boy for a second, but letting him believe he did anyway. Thankfully, Bakugou changes the subject to something not about Kirishima's sort of peeking.
"Your mom's a real piece of work, you know that?"
Kirishima ducks his head, not saying a word as he bites his lip. He doesn't want to say anything bad about his mother, he loves her after all, she's a good woman, but it's true that sometimes she can be a little...intense. Opinionated. Stubborn.
Bakugou doesn't wait around for an actual answer, both of them knowing Kirishima would likely never give one anyway. He leaves from the window view for a moment before returning with a lighter and cigarette. Kirishima openly states as the man lights up and takes a long drag.
"Don't tell anyone about this, yeah? Supposed to have quit."
Kirishima's thoughts dance around in his head, all very confused and loud and some even inappropriate. Most inappropriate. He nods his agreement to keep the little secret that has been gifted to him, though he’s not sure who exactly he’s supposed to be keeping it from.
"T-thank you for bringing the groceries to us." Kirishima starts, because he figures actually saying something is better than letting the silence grow longer. "That was an inconvenience I'm sure. I can pay you back for them."
Bakugou waves him off with an outstretched hand, pulling a long drag before letting the smoke filter out between his lips on the exhale. "Don't mention it. You need anything else, just let me know. That's what neighbors are for, right?"
Kirishima's eyes went wide, having not expected such an answer.
He sounded so genuine and kind, even as he blew smoke up into the sky and Kirishima had watched him rampage around his room moments before.
"Hm," Bakugou waved his hand again. "You got a phone? I'll give you my number if you need something."
"E-excuse me?"
"Like if you need a ride or some shit. Emergency contact, whatever."
"A-ah, that's not really not- necess--"
"Just get your phone, kid."
Kirishima does. He listened without needing to be told for a third time, nearly falling from his bed as he grabs at his phone on his nightstand, dropping it twice from his suddenly very sweaty palms as he's then opening it and Bakugou is giving him his phone number.
He types frantically, the numbers spoken across the away, between their fence, not wanting to mess up and have to ask for clarification. His fingers shake as he types in the contact info, fills in the name, with his thumb hovering over the save button before he can actually hit it.
"Oh, by the way,"
Kirishima's head snaps up from staring at his phone screen, watching as Bakugou finishes off his cigarette and snuffs out the bud on the window sill.
"Never answered your question before."
Kirishima blinks. Question?
"Back at the store."
His blood runs cold.
Bakugou must see how his face grows pale because suddenly the man is grinning, sharp, teeth pearly, everything about him looking dangerous and sexy and all the things Kirishima has been warned about; has been taught for years are traits of a sinner.
"Only when I want to be." He winks, still smiling, right before slamming his window closed and pulling down the blinds, effectively blocking Kirishima's view into his bedroom, into his entire world.
Which leaves Kirishima sitting there on his bed, staring back in the dark, with his thumb still hovering over his phone, trembling, as he remembers the question to go along with the new answer.
Are you a whore?
Only when I want to be.
Kirishima's mouth is dry.
His thumb comes down before he can think about anything else and quickly shuts his bedroom window, climbing under his sheets and putting his pillow over his head so tightly he understands now why people in movies use it as a method of murder, and tries his hardest to clear his head.
To not think about Bakugou Katsuki, his gay stripper neighbor across the street. Not think about how he now has his phone number saved. Just in case. For emergencies.
Well, fuck.