Archive of Our Own

Katsuki knows that Kirishima is a weird guy.

Not in the sense that he’s got an uncanny obsession with dressing like a highlighter half the time and has nondescript chompers, but in the sense that Kirishima hangs out with a guy like him.

Katsuki knows he’s the best at everything he does, that he’s fine-tuned and sharpened his skills and his quirk. His only “flaw” is that he doesn’t do people. He doesn’t like them in general, and he thinks everyone’s a weirdo until proven otherwise. Despite this, Aizawa keeps yelling at him to be nicer to citizens as if they’re snowflakes that will deteriorate at a few words.

Whatever.

Kirishima, however, is sunshine-incarnate, tolerating even that asswipe, Mineta sometimes, which is insane to Katsuki considering that the grape-headed creep doesn’t have much else to his personality other than being a lustful freak.

That being said, of course, Katsuki has to wonder how the redhead does it. He finds himself throwing glances at Kirishima—discreetly, because he’ll be damned if he’s caught—observing how he interacts with other people.

It’s not hard to be subtle when the redhead insists on latching onto him like a hummingbird to nectar, talking his ear off about his internship, how manly Suneater was during a villain takedown, how funny Denki was during class, and blah blah blah.

Katsuki may not be good at this whole talk-about-your-feelings thing, but he can listen and watch, and he can retain. 

Somehow, this whole plan to observe Kirishima be a good person devolves into bearing witness to Kirishima be… more than nice to other people. But Katsuki guesses, if there’s anyone who would witness it the most, it would be the guy that the redhead chooses to latch himself onto the most.

Which he supposes… is him.

(Ick.)

1.

Katsuki is laying on Kirishima’s lap in the common room, reading a book while the redhead chooses to play a game on the TV with Kaminari and Sero, when Yaoyorozu approaches them.

The book is a well-written romance, with pieces of mystery layered in it. It was a gift from Kirishima that the dumbass said made him think of him.

“You’re such a nerd sometimes, Katsuki.” When Kirishima had said it, his initial reaction was to deny it and scold him, but then he just smiled at him and Katsuki couldn’t help but snatch the book from his hand, pouting away from Kirishima’s gaze.

Stupid fucking smile. 

“Hey Kirishima,” Yaoyorozu greets, chewing her lip in thought.

“What’s up, Yaomomo?” Kirishima says smiling brightly, eyes switching from the TV to her in quick darts. 

There’s humor in the redhead’s actions and Katsuki watches as Yaoyorozu seems to physically relax at his antics.

“Um… so… I don’t know how to ask this without it being embarrassing,” she starts, still pursing her lips.

“Oh,” Kirishima lets his avatar die on screen much to Sero and Kaminari’s delight as they loot his body in-game.

What the fuck.

Katsuki watches as Kirishima turns his full attention one of their top ranked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Don’t worry about it, Yaomomo,” Kirishima reassures her, “No judgement here! Oh-! Do you wanna’ talk about it privately?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Ever the busybody.

“Well… it’s just… doyouthinkIcanborrowahoodie?” Ponytail asks, honestly its more like a jumble of words than it is a question being asked.

“Uh, what?”

Even Katsuki has to raise an eyebrow at her. 

“Just… um… do you think… I could borrow a hoodie…?” she requests, more slowly this time but her cheeks are red.

“Oh, I mean yeah, but can I know why?” Kirishima asks sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure half of my hoodies are either in Bakugou’s room or Mina’s.”

“Yes!” Ponytail shouts, before flinching as if she startled herself. “I mean… it’s just that I saw Mina with one of your hoodies and I’d never seen or felt material like that before, and they look so comfy. I tried to order a similar one but it won’t come for another month.”

She seems genuinely troubled by her predicament, and embarrassed if the shade of red on her cheeks are any type of indicator.

“Ah yeah, Ka-Bakugou’s mom sent him a bunch of prototypes for a hoodie line she was thinking of designing for a teen fashion line, and Bakugou ended up giving them to me,” Kirishima explains, chuckling. “They were testing a new type of material, but it didn’t look like how Mitsuki wanted it to so she just sent them over to him and tried a different type of material.”

“So you just have a closet full of those soft hoodies?” Her eyes seem to sparkle at the idea.

“Me and Blasty actually!” Kirishima says cheerfully. “and I guess some are in Mina’s room too now haha…”

“You’re not getting my shit, Ponytail,” Katsuki quickly shuts down, turning another page in his book.

“N-noted…” Yaoyorozu responds, voice clipped out of embarrassment.

Kirishima’s eyes soften and he offers her a kind smile, “I got your back, Yaomomo.”

He taps on Katsuki’s chest, signaling for him to lift off of his lap so that he can get up. Katsuki grunts in acknowledgement before lifting off and minutely meeting Yaoyaorozu’s gaze.

“Gonna go help out Yaomomo for a minute. I’ll be back,” he announces, as he leaves his controller on the couch, more to the other two who are currently beating up more monsters on the TV.

The two idiots find this noteworthy as they pause the game just for Kaminari wriggles his eyebrows at Kirishima, while Sero gives the redhead a smirk before lifting his eyebrows up suggestively.  

Yaoyorozu smoothly latches onto Kirishima’s arm, as he guides them to the elevator to go onto his and Katsuki’s floor.

Katsuki continues to read his book, although after a few pages, he realizes his leg has started moving up and down before consciously stopping it himself.

(Weird.)

“I can’t thank you enough, Kirishima-kun,” she says cheerfully.

“After you, Yaomomo,” the redhead gestures to the elevator.

Thirty minutes later, Kirishima comes down the stairs without Yaoyaorozu trailing behind him.

Something settles in Katsuki’s chest as he sees the familiar lonesome figure, as he makes his way back to his spot on the couch and allowing Katsuki to return to laying down in his lap.

“Took you long enough,” Katsuki murmurs, adjusting into his spot.

Kirishima huffs out a chuckle, “Bratty.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow at him, awaiting an explanation.

The redhead rolls his eyes but there’s only fondness in his eyes as he looks back down at Katsuki’s face.  “Yaomomo took a while to pick one that she liked and then after that, I walked her back to her dorm.”

“Tch,” Katsuki scoffs, “whatever. Didn’t ask.”

Sero lets out a wolf-whistle and Katsuki’s made aware of the fact that the two idiots on the floor have been eavesdropping on their conversation. 

“Good on you, Kirishima,” Kaminari gives him a thumbs up. “I’m sure she loved it.”

“Guys, it's not like that-” Kirishima tries, a whine building in his throat.

“Oh but it is so like that, dude,” Sero counters, before continuing to beat Kaminari’s character up in-game.

They don’t leave room for Kirishima to debate them as they get swept into their round of Smash.

Huh. They changed games. Katsuki didn’t even realize. 

(But Kirishima is mindlessly ruffling through Katsuki’s hair, so Katsuki decides that the topic is no longer worth his time or brain space anymore.)

2. 

It doesn’t surprise Katsuki when he sees Yaoyaorozu donning his mom’s proto-hoodie when they’re in the dorms. Actually, he can’t stop hearing about it.

It seems to be the hot topic between all the girls as they take note of Kirishima’s chivalry in their daily bout of gossip. The Class 1-A girls are talking about it right now.

“Kirishima-kun is so sweet to offer you one of his hoodies while you wait to get your own.”

“Do you think he would give me one too?”

They chatter at the table near the kitchen as Katsuki makes dinner for himself and the redhead. He’s been prepping since yesterday for their meal today.

(He’s not so sure when he started cooking enough for two. The same as how he doesn’t know when Kirishima stealing pieces of his food turned into Katsuki making another portion and his dinner time becoming Kirishima’s.

He’s not upset about it though.)

“Kirishimaaaaaaa,” Ashido groans as she holds her stomach, stalking over to the boy as he returns from his shower.

Katsuki looks up as he plates their food and watches Kirishima from behind the counter. Kirishima and Ashido seem to get the attention of the girls who were chattering at the table.

The first thing Katsuki notices is Kirishima is wearing a black tank, skin tight on his body as it outlines every single ab-line on his body. His arms are bulging.

(He also notices the black sweatpants that he has on and knows for a fact that those aren’t his own, because of how it cuts off before his ankle.

They’re fucking Katsuki’s.

And this hulking giant who never skips a gym day is going to stretch out a pair of his sweats because of his fucking thunder thighs. This is what he gets for doing laundry with Kirishima.

The blonde takes a moment to mourn his well-being from ten seconds ago and makes a mental note to buy another pair of sweats the next time he goes out.)

The next thing he notices is how Kirishima helps Ashido stand, asking what’s wrong and gently patting her back.

“Kirishimaaaa, I’m on my period, can you buy me food?” she whines in pain, leaning her head on his shoulder.

She gives him a sheepish smile and a giggle, so Katsuki guesses that she might be slightly joking. But Katsuki also remembers that sometimes his mom would call off from work because she couldn’t get up from bed—even the times she could, she was significantly more drained than Katsuki remembers his hellfire of a mother.

After grade school, when he saw his normally fiery mom throw up in the sink from her stomach cramps, he realized that for all of the glory men get for being strong and powerful, nothing was as inspiring than seeing his mom wipe of the vomit, brush her teeth, and take him to school. 

Katsuki couldn’t have been more grateful to have been born a boy.

“Oh, I don’t have my allowance in yet,” Kirishima pulls out his phone, tapping for a moment, before giving it to Ashido. “But I have some snacks and ramen from when my parents sent some stuff over. Do you want a Shark Week pack?”

The girls from UA begin to whisper among themselves, “What the hell is a Shark Week pack?”

Ashido voices the sentiment, to which he replies, “It’s just some stuff that’s supposed to help during your period.”

Ashido giggles at the idea, “Oh my God Kiri, what would you know about a girl’s period? You’re always talking about how to be manly.”

Kirishima seems to take no offense to the suggestion that he’s clueless instead clashing his fists together and answering with, “It’s manly to be educated on how to take care of the women you care about.”

The pinkette seems genuinely surprised by how genuine he seems, but in Katsuki’s opinion, what was she expecting?

Kirishima is literally a Crimson Riot fan and is all about chivalry.

(Kirishima pardons himself for a second as he makes his way to Katsuki, placing a hand on the small of the blonde’s back before moving to the side and talking low enough just for the two of them to hear, “Hey Katsuki, how was your day?”

“Shitty, I had to finish my incident reports from a robbery yesterday,” Bakugou grumbles at the memory. “Hurry the fuck up with Racoon Eyes so we can eat and you can talk my ear off about whatever the damn you get up to or something.”

Kirishima’s eyes seem to smile at him, as he squeezes Katsuki’s waist before he leaves again to head over to his room.)

Five minutes later, he returns with a small caddy and gives it to Ashido who look at the contents curiously.

“Oh my God, heat packs-” and she continues to rattle off the contents of Kirishima’s “Shark Week” pack. 

The other girls flock to her and examine the caddy with her, taking out the pads and tampons of various sizes, the different snacks, mini water bottles, the pack of painkillers, and beauty products.

It starts attracting some attention from the other guys in the common room.

“What’s going on?” Sero asks, joining the crowd of girls.

“I would also like to know what is happening,” Iida says, waving his hand in a chopping motion in emphasis with his words.

“Kirishima-kun gave Ashido-san a caddy with some stuff to help with her time of the month,” Uraraka explains, looking absolutely delighted by it. “Ugh, I, so need a boyfriend that’s prepared like this.”

“What do you mean by that, Ochako-san?” a green haired boy asks curiously.

“Ah, well… it’s just that most guys don’t really seem to be all that knowledgeable about what we, girls, struggle with especially during our time of the month,” Yaoyaorozu gently starts, “so its really nice and considerate of Kirishima-kun to be as prepared as he is. Whichever girl dates him would be so lucky.”

“Ah, I see,” Iida lifts his glasses as if to signify understanding, before he approaches Kirishima.

“Kirishima-kun, would you be able to help me in making one of your packs so that I could help the girls during their… p-periods…?” Iida flushes red as he makes the request but Kirishima only grins at him, putting a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

“Of course man, just stop by and I’ll show you how to make a Shark Week Pack,” Kirishima says, giving him a thumbs up.

“I would also like to learn,” Midoriya says in determination, mumbling about how efficient and effective his idea to create these “Shark Week” packs is.

“Sure, the more the merrier, dude” Kirishima gives his full-tooth smile at the mumbling boy.

“How did you even make this?” the pinkette asks quizzically, holding up a pair of face masks and a pad.

“My mom used to have me carry them around in a bag, just in case, something about being an ally. The habit kinda just stuck as I got older,” the redhead shrugs. “I arranged them in a caddy this time though because I bought an extra on accident.”

“Oh my God, Belgian chocolate and mochi,” Uraraka’s jaw drops. “This is literally heaven in a basket, Kirishima-kun.”

“You’re just stocked with feminine hygiene products and you didn’t tell anyone??” Hagakure questions, shocked.

“Well, no, Asui and Jirou stop by every month to ask for them,” Kirishima answers, scratching the back of his head. 

“Yeah, he takes forever in the store looking for fucking pads,” Katsuki adds, “‘It’ll be a quick run’ my ass.”

“Aw Bakugou, I apologized,” Kirishima pouts and Katsuki just rolls his eyes. “Besides, you helped me pick out the stuff and price match, so if anything, you’re an accomplice.”

Katsuki scoffs at that. “Whatever.”

(But Katsuki still peeks upward in his scowl, catching Kirishima’s gaze that sparkles with amusement. 

Katsuki quickly directs his eyes back to cleaning the kitchen, but it’s too late. His cheeks and neck are burning.)

“Kirishima-kun, would you mind if more of us asked for a Shark Week pack from you, at least until the guys get the hang of it?” Uraraka asks hesitantly.

“Sure, just bring back the caddies when you receive them. That’s usually what Jirou and Asui do and I just restock,” he explains with a wide grin.

“Ugh, Kirishima-kun, I wish more men were like you,” Hagakure exclaims, seemingly resting her head in her hands.

“Thanks Hagakure,” Kirishima smiles brightly. “But honestly, this should really be the bare minimum considering how hard it is for you guys. Iida, Sero and Midoriya seem interested in helping too so eventually you’ll have multiple suppliers!”

The girls all seem to coo and aw at the redhead, and he sheepishly accepts the praise.

“Yeah yeah, blah blah, Shitty hair’s great, big fucking surprise, now leave us alone. I want to eat in peace,” Katsuki shooes them away from the bar area, where he places his and Kirishima’s plated food and drinks.

The girls wander away and the redhead settles next to Katsuki, thanking him for the food before they both dig in as he launches into a story about something that happened during his internship.

With the way his eyes seem to glimmer, Katsuki can tell it’ll be a long one.

He’s not upset about it at all, as he lets Kirishima’s voice fill his mind.

3. 

It’s a regular weekend night at the dorms. 

At least, it was.

Until the idiot brigade came rushing in.

Now, Katsuki isn’t going to say that he prefers them annoying him than them going without, but he will admit that he has an okay enough time with them to not hate his life whilst being in their presence. 

This time, it was Ashido and Jirou who wanted to go to the mall to buy some makeup products and clothes. Of course, this meant that Kaminari and Sero wanted to tag along, because they also wanted to update their wardrobe, which meant that they just had to invite Kirishima.

They had ruined a nice study session.

Kirishima was picking up the material faster than usual. He was through the English terms and grammar rules especially well, and understanding the chemistry concepts that were starting to get slightly more complex.

Katsuki mourned for a second when he heard a knock on Kirishima’s door and the loud chatter echoing in their rather secluded hall. 

Kirishima didn’t even seem to realize as he continued murmuring to himself.

“Hey Ei,” Katsuki called, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Hm?” Kirishima hummed in acknowledgement, finishing balancing and converting some mole calculations into particles.

“Someone knocked on your door, dummy,” Katsuki told him, “you should figure out what the fuck is going on befo-”

“Bro, Kirishima’s not here…” Kaminari announced, voice muffled because of the door.

“Bruh… ugh, where the hell is he…?” asked a muffled Sero.

“Duh, where else?” Ashido replied, giggling. “We were gonna ask Explosion Boy anyways.”

“Fuck…” Katsuki mutters to himself, dragging a hand over his face as he mourns the next few minutes of his peace and semi-quiet with Kirishima. Then he hears the knock of four different hands on his door, somehow all rapping at his door unsynchronized.

“No,” he says immediately to the disturbance.

“Katsuki, you can’t just say no to people like that,” Kirishima says, chuckling softly and it makes something in Katsuki’s heart squeeze. “besides, what if it’s an emergency?”

“As if they would come to me in the case of an emergency,” Katsuki rolls his eyes, but the smile that tugs at his lips and lack of heat in his words only makes Kirishima chuckle.

The redhead puts down his pencil stretching slightly before heading to the door as another knock resounds. He’s greeted by Ashido, Jirou, Sero and Kaminari all clustered by the door.

“Kiri!!! We were about to go to the mall and buy some stuff,” Ashido tells them, clapping her hands in excitement. “Do you and Boom Boom boy over there wanna come?”

This evokes chortles of laughter from everyone except Katsuki.

“No,” Katsuki repeats, arms crossed.

“Sure!” Kirishima turns to him, sunshine radiating off of his face as if he was the sun itself, bearing down on him with his smile. “Come on Ka- Bakugou! It’ll be fun.”

“No,” Bakugou says again petulantly. 

He hates crowded places, and loud ones. Moreover, he’s still getting used to the anxiety medication that his psychiatrist prescribed to him, and there’s no way in hell he’s risking going out like this.

He usually has enough energy to get through whatever Kirishima wants to drag him to on the weekend, but the meds are making him more tired than normal. Meaning, he’s more irritable too.

He knows he won’t be good to anyone in the state that he’s in right now, because he’s not nice to anyone when he’s exhausted or on edge.

He’s too sensitive—too vulnerable—right now.

Kirishima frowns at that for a split second, but turns back to their friends with a grin, “Hold up a sec guys, I’ll grab my stuff and then get ready to headout.”

“Cool, we’ll meet you down in the common room then, Kirishima,” Kaminari said, shooting him finger guns that Kirishima shoots back before closing the door.

“You okay, man?” Kirishima asks, seemingly concerned.

“I’m just… tired,” Katsuki tells him, biting his lip as he tries to word an explanation in his brain.

“It’s cool if you don’t wanna’ tell me everything,” Kirishima offers softly, and his expressions reminds him of kittens and clouds.

Cute and soft.

“It’s not… that,” Katsuki says quickly. “My psych gave me some shitty meds and they’re fucking up energy since my body is still adjusting to them right now, okay? I can’t go because I don’t know what’ll happen when I hit zero.”

Realization seems to dawn on Kirishima’s face and he gives Katsuki a grin. “Don’t worry man, everyone knows you like your alone time anyways.”

“Not from you,” Katsuki counters, trying not to pout at the statement. “I don’t like alone time all the time, if its you.”

Kirishima softens at that before his nose wrinkles.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be bothering you perpetually so I can get my dumb ass through UA,” Kirishima chortles, packing away his stuff slowly.

“Tch, that a threat?” Katsuki smirks, challenging the other.

“A promise,” Kirishima rewrites, throwing back what Katsuki’s sure is his own fiery expression. “Want me to grab anything for you?”

Katsuki shakes his head. “Be back before five-thirty. Dinner should be ready by then.”

“‘Kay ‘Kay Kat, see you in a few hours,” Kirishima grins back at them.

Which is how Katsuki ends up finishing his plating after cooking their monster of a dinner: braised pork ribs served alongside roasted potatoes, carrots, onions, and lime-cilantro steamed rice.

The vegetables and rice took a small chunk of time. It was the ribs that Katsuki had spent almost three hours cooking to perfection. He’d made enough for both him, Kirishima, and leftovers for tomorrow for lunch for the two of them.

He’s about to finish packing everything up when Kirishima comes rolling in, a sheepish grin on his face, with Ashido and Jirou hanging onto either of his arms, which carry about three shopping bags each.

Five-twenty. Not bad.

Katsuki eyes the group, taking note of how Sero and Kaminari seem to be hanging back carrying their own bundles of shopping bags, grinning smugly as they watch the interaction between Kirishima and the other two girls.

“You really saved us there—”

“—Yeah, I really thought he was going to kidnap us or something—”

“—It just helped that you were there to look intimidating honestly—”

Kirishima sighs loudly, before giving them his bashful smile, “I would do it again in a heartbeat, but honestly, you both would’ve handled yourselves just fine even if I wasn’t there. I was just doing what would’ve been the manly thing to do.”

The hardening hero clashes his fists together proudly.

“And you sure were manly, Kirishima-kun,” Jirou smiles back, punching her fist together as she mimics Kirishima’s movement.

“Yeah Kirishima,” Kaminari raises a fist as if in solidarity. “You were like a knight in shining armor, saving the damsels in distress.”

“Okay maybe not damsels… but that was still really cool of you Kiri,” Sero commends, clapping him on the back.

“What even happened?” Hagakure ventures curiously. 

Kirishima seems uninterested in the retelling of his apparent heroics as he drops the shopping bags, carrying over one singular bag. If Katsuki had to guess, it was probably a new pair of sweatpants since Katsuki had been wandering around in Kirishima’s middle school Crimson Riot ones since his old ones were now stretched out.

Katsuki decides to focus his attention on the story that Ashido is telling as Kirishima approaches him in the kitchen and the blonde makes it look like he’s putting things away.

“All of us had kinda split up, Kirishima at one store, Kaminari and Sero at another and me and Jirou went to go buy our things. And then there were these two guys who kinda’ just started following me and Jirou at one point, and then started hitting on me and Jirou, but when we tried to leave—because duh we were uncomfy and they were weird—they tried to grab us by our wrists,” she starts, her tone turning into disgust and frustration as she continues. 

“Wait— wait— I didn’t know this,” Kaminari pauses the story, making Katsuki roll his eyes. “Why didn’t you just use your quirk?”

“I didn’t know if I should have activated my quirk because of how corrosive it is, and Jirou was having trouble too,” Ashido huffed at him, before turning away. “Anyways, then Kirishima just came up to us and was like ‘Hey, are you guys okay? These guys bothering you?’”

Hagakure gasps before dissolving into giggles as she envisions the scene in front of her, as Ashido tells her story. 

“And you know how Kirishima is; he’s like this tall ass guy with muscles the size of my and Jirou’s heads combined, just hulking around asking if we needed help from those assholes,” Ashido chortles, “I mean… they ended up running off when that happened but it was still such an… icky situation…” Ashido frowns, before giving up a wistful smile. “I mean, they had their hands on our wrists, y’know?”

Jirou nods in agreement, “In a way, Kaminari really is kinda right. He was our knight in shining armor, because of how paralyzing it is to be put in that situation.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys are alright,” Hagakure says to them, laying a hand on both of their shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “I’m sorry that you had to experience that though.”

“Honestly,” Jirou half-smiles before sighing, “I’m just glad it's over.”

“Me too!” Ashido agrees before grabbing the bags Kirishima previously dropped and dividing them between the two, as they did a showing of all of the things they’d bought from the mall.

“Well, well, look at you knight and shining armor,” Katsuki chuckles lowly as he sits with Kirishima, eating their food at the bar table. “They’re practically falling at your feet.”

Kirishima chuckles with the blonde, “You know it’s not like that.”

He takes a bite and does a little dance in his seat. “Katsuki, this is really good!”

“‘S whatever,” the other says between swallows as he shovels his food into his mouth.

(“Thanks for sharing this with me, man,” Kirishima looks at Katsuki through his eyelashes and his eyebrows are furrowed along with him—oh, and now he’s batting his eyelashes at him.

“It’s whatever…” Katsuki repeats back. “Eijirou.”

Kirish—Eijirou startles but he doesn’t look unhappy with it. Instead, he melts into this look of adoration for Katsuki, and it’s too much, so he looks away.

They finish eating, and Kirishima offers to do the dishes. Katsuki sits in the chair as he does them, listening to the redhead hum a tune that Katsuki’s sure is from an anime that he’s been watching with Todoroki.

They leave together to head up to their floor, and no one bats an eye.)

4. 

Chocolate.

That’s all that Katsuki is staring at on his desk when he sees multiple chocolates wrapped up in pink and red hearts and ribbons. His desk looks like Valentine’s Day threw up on it, and he very much, does not appreciate it.

He’s pretty sure the amount of chocolate on his desk is likely to make him a pre-diabetic, even if he spaced it out throughout the week. He looks through the papers tied to each bunch of chocolate—thankful that most of them seemed to be giri chocolate from his classmates.

But there was still a good pile of his bunch that had too many hearts and drawn kisses for them to not be considered honmei chocolate, and Katsuki could only stare at the pile in contempt as it took up space on his desk. 

How the fuck did that many people get in here before him without him noticing? He knows for a fact that he’s not late because, thanks to the weird jump in popularity in his second year, he now has to carry an extra bag with him on Valentine’s Day.

He shoves the boxes and goodie bags off his desk, using his arm to swipe them into the bag he’d brought specifically for today. He places it under his desk, taking out his notebook when he notices Eijirou handing out his own Valentine’s Day candy.

Katsuki knows for a fact that Eijirou had been baking chocolate cupcakes for everyone in class today, even some for the people in 3-B. He’d come strolling into their room smelling strangely like chocolate rather than his usual citrus orange, which led to the redhead spilling his guts before Katsuki could actually ask.

Katsuki can’t say he’s surprised when he hears about it, and he’s hit, not for the first time, with the realization that Eijirou is a culmination of everything decent in this world. 

His consideration for others in so out of Katsuki’s realm that, sometimes, despite how close they sit during movie night, how often they trade light touches, how they’re one of the few that call each other by their given names comfortably, Eijirou feels like light years away.

The redhead passes out his cutesy cupcakes out to each of their classmates, corresponding ribbon to signature colors from their hero costumes and branding designs. 

“Woah, Kiri, this is kind of insane,” Sero says, punching him lightly on the shoulder as he looks at the curled black, gold and white ribbon. 

“Thanks man-”

“Kirishima-kun, how did you get your ribbon like this?” Yaoyaorozu asks curiously with her cupcake in hand, wrapped with heart patterned wrapping and tied with red, white, and yellow ribbon.

“Ah, YouTube,” he responds brightly, “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

Yaoyaorozu seems to settle with a satisfied smile on her face. Jirou offers Eijirou a fist bump to which he enthusiastically accepts, continuing to make sure everyone has one.

“Wow Kirishima-kun, you’re truly a jack of all trades,” Izuku murmurs in awe, “it’s truly amazing that you’ve done all of this. I’m sure it took a lot of time!”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Midoriya!” he smiles, giving him a thumbs up, and the green-headed nerd has the gall to blush.

“Dude, you’re lowkey making me swoon,” Kaminari jokes, putting a hand on Eijirou’s shoulder as he holds his cupcake. 

They both laugh before Mineta is groaning in disgust, “Uhhh… Kirishima-kun, this is giri chocolate right? You’re not in love with me, are you?” 

“Literally, shut up Mineta,” Ashido says, annoyance clear in her tone. “Besides, if Kiri’s giving anyone honmei chocolate, you wouldn’t need to ask. Kirishima doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body.”

“Hey!!!”

“I love it for you though,” she chortles, leading to other snickers at the group.

Everyone’s comparing their colors and the other included goodies within the cupcake wrapping. By the end of it, everyone is in awe of Eijirou’s giri chocolate and the effort he put into it, settling in their desks as the bell tolls for the late bell. 

Aizawa strolls in, late by five minutes, but considering he’s been stuck with this particularly problematic class, he feels it's owed to himself.

Everyone has a cupcake on the corner of their desk—that he notices very clearly—except for Bakugou Katsuki, who seems to have swept all of his goodies into a bag under his desk.

“Happy Celebration of Capitalism to you too, problem children. Announcements…” Aizawa starts, and he drones on about how to start preparing for graduation in the next coming terms.

It’s everything Katsuki’s heard about already on various occasions, and he doesn’t put off things as important as his literal dream so the announcements are of no use to him. 

The blonde finds himself thinking of how Eijirou hadn’t given him a cupcake yet, but everyone had gotten something special attached to their cupcake apparently: a small note of a appreciation. 

Katsuki knows because he watched him pack it in with the cupcake.

Did Katsuki do something wrong last night? Should he have offered to help? It’s dumb to think about this—it shouldn’t matter.

But Eijirou’s his best friend. Why wouldn’t his best friend give him giri chocolate? 

Is it because he didn’t give Eijirou giri chocolate? 

(He made him a bento today for lunch but he wasn’t going to give it to him now.)

Before he could think harder about it, he hears Aizawa finishing making his announcements and a, “Now open your books up to page two-eighty-three.”

Everyone groans unified by chocolate and their hate for talking about Hero Economics.

When their study period before lunch begins and everyone disperses into their groups, the novelty of Eijirou’s giri chocolate still hangs in the air as people open it up to read their notes.

Katsuki still hasn’t received his, but Katsuki would rather die than approach Eijirou about a cupcake. He figures he might as well stop spiraling and just do something about it later—maybe even yell at Eijirou a little bit when they go up to their rooms.

“This is super impressive, man,” Tetsutetsu says, holding up his cupcake. It’s wrapped similar to all the cupcakes that everyone else received from Eijirou, but his ribbon is green, silver, and white. 

“Yeah, Kirishima, whoever you have as your Valentine sure is lucky,” Kendo adds from next Tetsutetsu.

“Yeah, dude… did you end up…” the silver haired boy seems to look around before whispering something into Eijirou’s ear that has his entire face blending in with his hair.

Eijirou rapidly shakes his head as his mouth thins out into a dejected line. “Still deciding if I do… I don’t know how it’ll go and I’m a little worried.”

“Dude, just go for it!” Tetsutetsu encourages the other, before glancing at Kendo and using his eyes to motion to the redhead.

“Yeah! How would you say it…? Ah— ‘Being honest about your feelings is the manly thing to do!’” Kendo smashes her fists together to complete the full imitation, before the three of them dissolve into laughter.

“Alright, well, we better go before Vlad seriously kicks our butts for disappearing for too long,” Tetsutetsu says, slinging an arm around Kendo’s shoulders. “And if you ever want to take me up on that double date, let me know.”

The silver haired hero-in-training winks at him before the couple leave to head to their own class. 

Katsuki looks back at his homework and class notes before Eijirou could feel his stare. But after overhearing that conversation, he’s starting to wonder if he should even give his bento to Eijirou.

Wouldn’t that be insensitive to the fact that Eijirou already seemed to like someone?

Ah… Katsuki’s pencil has just broken.

As he gets a new pencil from his pencil pouch, he realizes that they’re right. Anyone who would be Kirishima Eijirou’s Valentine would be the luckiest person in the world.

It’s so obvious to anyone who’s known him for longer than two minutes.

Katsuki finds himself drawing an umbrella with his name under it. 

The other side never gets filled.

(“Katsuki,” a raspy baritone voice calls softly when they’re the last two left, and Katsuki doesn’t even have it in him to feign nonchalance.

His eyes are on Eijirou before he even knows it, and he’s looking right back at him. 

“Here, this one's for you,” Eijirou smiles at him as he gives him his own cupcake ribbons of orange, green, black, and a singular ribbon of red. 

The blonde finds himself looking at it harder, as if blinking will make it dissolve but even when he looks away for a second, it’s still there.

“Do you get it?”

Katsuki goes into his bag, pulling out a bento box. Katsuki looks down nervously before he offers it to Eijirou. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Eijirou.”

The explosion hero looks at the other through his eyelashes before realizing that the redhead’s mouth is open, gaping as if he can’t believe it.

“Is this really for me?” Eijirou asks wondrously.

“Agh,” Katsuki scratches his head, “Who else do I cook for in this godforsaken school?”

Eijirou only smiles at him, nudging him with his shoulder and Katsuki’s lip twitches.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Katsuki.”)

+1

Katsuki is nonverbal today.

Against his will, obviously, because he has the strongest urge to yell at Midoriya for fucking up porridge (Seriously? You couldn’t just pay attention to the pot and stir? He didn’t even write for there to be anything added into it, oats and fucking water.)

His throat had some kind of infection, blah blah blah, and he now has swelling developing near his vocal chords. The doctors said, no talking, more of this syrupy medicine stuff that’s supposed to coat and numb his throat, and soft foods only.

His body had been weaker than usual, and when he got an actual fever for the first time in thirteen years, he made it a point to take his ass to the doctor Friday afternoon before the clinic closed.

He’s been writing on a notepad to Midoriya to get him things, but sometimes, he gets distracted and forgets where his head is. It tempts him to send a text to a certain redhead, make him worry just a little bit—think about him a bit more.

But Eijirou’s on a mission with Fatgum, and the last thing he needs is Katsuki to interrupt him during work about how his throat is fucked up for a couple days.

So Katsuki says nothing, but his so called friends decide to send a photo of him tucked under his covers, looking every bit exhausted with his cooling pads on his neck and put it in the group chat with Eijirou in it.

Katsuki’s sleep-deprived and sickly brain looked at the “[Attachment: 1 image]” and “Come help your boyfriend, Kiri” texts with an eyeroll, assuming it was some thirst trap of some character the redhead liked and muted the group chat to get more sleep.

But when he awoke, there was movement around his room. He could hear the chair being pulled over and plastic rustling near him, and it almost made Katsuki want to roll over to get away, but the doctor had advised not to sleep on his side or stomach for fear of irritating his throat more.

“Katsuki,” a gravelly voice called, low and soft. Calloused hands shook him lightly before patting at his face gently.

Katsuki opened his eyes and threw the person before him a glare.

What the hell.

Katsuki hoped to convey, which… maybe he didn’t because the redhead started giggling, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky and not like his sneeze was disgusting beyond measure.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re sick,” the redhead said, brushing back his hair from his face and Katsuki did not lean into his hand like he was a cat getting head pats. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Katsuki writes on his notepad littered with evidence of scribbles and threats to kill Midoriya.

You were on a mission. Didn’t want to bother you.

“You should’ve told me,” Eijirou chortles, fond smile resting on his face before he goes to place a cooling cloth on his head. “I would never be bothered by you.”

The blonde rolls his eyes, writing on the notepad again.

You have the worst attention span. I bet if you found out any earlier you would’ve been just as fucked up as I feel.

Eijirou chuckles at that, “I would’ve still made it back, and I would still want to take care of you just like this.”

He folds some of Katsuki’s laundry that had been pushed to the side, before turning on the air purifier in his room. He organizes the room to what Katsuki remembers it looking like before the blonde had begun neglecting it because of how tired his throat infection made him.

Katsuki watches as the other blurs through his room, placing books back onto his desk, coats off the bed and onto the coat rack, old bowls and cutlery into a bag to bring to the kitchen, and bringing about more blankets and cooling packs to assuage the swelling in his throat.

The redhead is thoroughly attuned to Katsuki’s schedule too; Katsuki didn’t have to ask him once for food or anything, having it already prepared before the blonde could ask.

It was relievingly smoother than his first day with Midoriya, who managed to burn porridge and spill water all over Katsuki while trying to help. The blonde feels a headache come up as he remembers it.

“Is the soup good?”

Katsuki eyes the other before lifting the spoon to lips and tipping his head back to swallow. 

Huh. Not bad.

He nods stiltedly, but its a nod nonetheless and Eijirou seems thrilled at Katsuki’s approval. Eventually, the redhead decides to take over and help him feed, raising the spoon to him lips, and lifting Katsuki’s chin gently so that he could swallow easier.

The warm soup and the feeling of Eijirou’s calloused hands make him feel dazed, as he focuses on the bubble that shrouds the room.

He feels a sense of peace rumble through him, and he imagines that if he were a cat, he would be purring. When he finishes his food, Eijirou helps him drink his water too, helps him mix the medicine and pills, and Katsuki feels himself swallowed up in his pillows and blankets as he lets the redhead take care of him.

“M’gonna take a shower,” the redhead yawns, “then maybe hit the sack, need anything KitKat?”

Katsuki shakes his head no, but frowns at the thought of being left alone with his own sickness. He feels pathetic, and turns his back on Kirishima.

“Alright, if you say so man,” Kirishima says, "Holler if you- oh wait… uh text me if you need anything.”

Katsuki doesn’t move or respond, and he can hear the small click of his door closing. His throat simultaneously feels dry and aches in a way he can’t believe. There’s a small part of him that is grateful that there isn’t anyone–other than the two he reluctantly let help him–to see him like this: pathetic in his entirety and beyond anxious for recovery. That part of him dreads the idea of them fussing about his state of being, doing all that they can to ensure that he recovers.

The larger part of him misses the fussing, perhaps not wanting the pity, but the company of someone who cares that he recovers in a painless way. He aches for the presence of someone who won’t look at him with pity, but with the acknowledgement of his pain.

…Or something like that. Maybe it is true that misery loves company, and Katsuki isn’t anything but a cliché. 

Katsuki allows himself to drift off, and when he wakes up, it’s fifteen minutes until curfew before he hears a knock.

“Hey Katsuki,” Kirishima lets himself in, and it would aggravate Katsuki slightly if it weren’t for the fact that his throat feels throttled and he’s just woken up. “I brought some medicine for your throat, painkillers and some tea.”

Kirishima turns on the lamp on his desk, which makes the whole room feel warm as he puts everything down on his nightstand. He’s wearing a face mask, Katsuki sees now, as if his sickness is contagious.

He props Katsuki to sit up and rests a hand on his back as he feeds Katsuki the medicine cap, two painkillers and some warm tea.

Dazed, Katsuki, despite the ache in his throat that seems to dull as the seconds pass by, opens his mouth to speak, “You should stay.”

His voice rasps despite himself, and he can feel his sickness flare at the strain, but he doesn’t regret saying it.

Kirishima chuckles, cupping the other’s cheek and rubbing a thumb along a scar that run down the side, “Wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

It should make Katsuki think a little harder when he sees how easy it was for Kirishima to slide into the covers with him, how Kirishima spoons Katsuki’s body in a familiar way.

“… Shut up, he’s still sleeping,” a whisper chastises. Katsuki agrees—shut the fuck up.

“How you manage to not only get into bed with him—on a twin XL, might I add—and get him to make that kind of expression,” another louder whisper comments, “is beyond me.”

“Why wouldn’t I cuddle with my sick boyfriend?” the whispers turns into a mumble into Katsuki’s hair, and it feels like a supernova has blacked out all thoughts swirling in the blond’s head. 

Katsuki doesn’t even care that he’s awake and still feels like shit, because it’s Kirishima who’s gently rubbing his back as if he senses him stirring and wanting for him to rest longer, and—wait.

A slightly dramatic gasp resounds in the quiet of the morning.

“Oh my god, you guys are dating?” the other whisper is now a more audible voice. 

Katsuki’s going to have to agree because this is the first he’s hearing it.

“Been, Denki,” Kirishima says quietly. 

What. 

“How long?”

“We usually celebrate in September.”

Pause. Katsuki always thought that those brunch and hiking plans were always a little much for a friendaversary but—

“Ah… so that’s where you guys always sneak off to.“

“I fear that makes too much sense,” Kaminari concludes solemnly. “… So you think you can convince him to lend me his study guide for the upcoming English exam?”

“I’m his boyfriend—not God,” Kirishima chuckles, nuzzling a little bit further into Katsuki’s hair. “you can ask him yourself.”

“This has to be the greed they talk about in the Bible,” Kaminari groans, “just make sure to come down stairs in the next hour or something.”

“Yeah yeah, thanks man,” Kirishima dismisses as if starting to drift off to sleep. Katsuki feels like his world has just tilted on its axis at the multitude of revelations that he has just been supplied by a singular conversation between idiots.

    Revelation #1: Katsuki’s in love with the red head that’s sleeping right next to him

    Revelation #2: His love is reciprocated.

    Revelation #3: Kaminari Denki knows that Kirishima knew before he did.

    Revelation #4: He’s been dating the love of his life and he doesn’t even know when they got together.

“Katsuki… what’s wrong?” Kirishima asks into his hair. They’re close enough that even a change in breathing could be recognized if they looked for it.

“Eijirou,” Katsuki starts, the words long and measured. It’s raspy and crackled with how strained his throat is, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday. “How long have we been dating?”

“Two years now, why?” Kirishima’s tone sounds a little too dismissive and light-hearted for the turbulence that swarms in Katsuki’s head.

“Two years…” Katsuki flounders before turning away from Kirishima.

He didn’t even know.

“You… love me?” The words flow out of Katsuki before he can even register what he just muttered. 

Fuck. Now, he’s going to seem like a terrible boyfriend.

Katsuki both fears and anticipates the panic that appears on Kirishima’s face when he says it.

“I- We haven’t said the L-word yet, but—” Kirishima looks panicked and he’s not facing Katsuki directly. Instead, he actually buries his face in Katsuki’s neck. “…of course, I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you since you grabbed my hand at Kamino and I couldn’t stop falling in love with you since.”

Kirishima peaks up before chuckling, “You look surprised, did you not know?”

Kirishima feels like the sun.

It wouldn’t be the first time and it’s certainly not the last, but it never fails to amaze Katsuki at how blinding his light is. 

Katsuki wonders if Kirishima knows that Katsuki adores him.

“Hmmm… I can’t wait until we can say it together, but for now, let’s rest a bit more before the others come in again to get us.”

—-

(In the end, Katsuki never really got better with people. It’s just that the more that he looked at these people through Kirishima’s eyes and saw how happy they made him, it became increasingly harder to deny the affection that they extend to him just by association to the red head.)