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Hitoshi is laid out on the couch in the communal room, his hand-held console the only light in the darkness of the night, mindlessly gaming away.
He knows that Aizawa would hate to find him here, that he prefers it when Hitoshi tries to sleep in his room, but Hitoshi has been there, done that and tossing and turning and staring up at the same ceiling gets old five hours into the night.
It's not as if Hitoshi gave up immediately—he always tries first, even though he damn well knows that his insomnia is not going to grant him even a little boon and five hours is his own set time.
If he's still awake, still helplessly staring at the ceiling, then he's allowed to come down here and play as much as he wants to.
Either he falls asleep and ruins his own run, or he'll at least be occupied for the rest of the night, until the rest of the class starts to wake up.
It's a working system—mostly because neither Aizawa nor Yamada know about it—and Hitoshi is not going to change anything about it any time soon.
He's concentrated on a fight, one that already kicked his ass like seven times in the past hour, when he hears a noise down the hallway.
Hitoshi freezes, subsequently dying on his best run yet, because of course why wouldn't he, and he moves just enough to be able to peer over the back of the couch.
He expects Aizawa to come forth like a wraith or maybe Tokoyami, who has kept him company every now and then but when Bakugo shuffles into the communal room, Hitoshi blinks in confusion.
Bakugo keeps to a strict sleeping schedule and he gets highly irritated if something disrupts it so it's beyond rare to see him down here at—Hitoshi quickly checks his phone—three thirty in the morning.
He watches how Bakugo moves further into the room, dragging his feet like a zombie and it takes Bakugo an embarrassingly long time until he seems to notice Hitoshi.
Bakugo freezes when his eyes fall onto the couch and Hitoshi can see the tension flowing through Bakugo's entire body.
"Hey," Hitoshi awkwardly offers because suddenly he feels like an intruder, even though he was here first and for a moment Bakugo only blinks at him.
"Fuck," he finally mutters out, seemingly coming back to himself and he's already halfway turned around before Hitoshi manages to scramble up and lean more comfortably over the backrest.
"You don't have to go, room's big enough for both of us," he offers, because it's clear that whatever woke Bakugo up tonight was bad enough to make him flee his own room and Hitoshi thinks it's unfair if he has to leave this room, too.
And it really is big enough for the both of them.
Bakugo hesitates, but he doesn't move closer. He drags a hand over his face, and then glares at Hitoshi when he does nothing but watch him.
They lock eyes for a moment and it strangely feels like a fight—that Hitoshi has no intention of even fighting, because he has no clue what's going on—and then Bakugo lets out a deep sigh.
"I need you to not be an asshole tonight," he finally mutters, his eyes darting away as if he's suddenly wholly unable to keep Hitoshi's gaze. "Just—this one night, I can't take any of your bullshit."
Hitoshi tilts his head in consideration because usually it's the both of them who are full of shit and who try to rile up the other first; Hitoshi usually wins because Bakugo is laughably easy to rile up, and normally it's all fun and games and Bakugo has never really given any indication of hating it, but clearly tonight something is different.
And Hitoshi is never an asshole for being an asshole's sake, so it's easy to nod.
"Fair enough," he gives back and flops back down on the couch, though this time, he tucks his legs close to offer Bakugo some space.
There are enough other couches around, so if he really wants to be alone he could choose one of those, but just like Hitoshi suspected, Bakugo shuffles over to his. He drops down at the other end of it, desperately trying to not make eye contact and Hitoshi doesn't comment on his behaviour at all.
Until he dies again in his fight and needs a distraction for a little bit.
"You want something to eat?" he asks, shutting his console off and he's not surprised when Bakugo shakes his head.
If there's one thing he's more rigorous about than his sleeping schedule it's his food and Hitoshi has yet to see him consume something that someone other than Bakugo himself cooked.
He eats take-out just fine, but whatever comes out of this kitchen has to be made by his own hands or Bakugo is not touching it.
"'kay," Hitoshi mutters and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen, but when he moves past Bakugo his hand shoots out and clings to the hem of his shirt.
"Don't leave," Bakugo quietly says, his eyes fixed on the floor and Hitoshi frowns down at him.
He's so unlike Bakugo tonight and it's only when Hitoshi really looks at him that he sees the haunted look in his eyes.
Nightmares then, he thinks with understanding and he mentally adjusts his plan.
"I won't," he promises and gently pries Bakugo's hand off his shirt. "I'll be right back."
Bakugo's hand hovers in the air for a moment, before he curls his fingers and takes it back as if Hitoshi had slapped him away.
"Fuck you," he says, and even though the words are right, his voice is all wrong.
He doesn't even sound like Bakugo.
"Not this night," Hitoshi mildly says, and dares to reach out and pat Bakugo's head.
He doesn't get his hand bitten off and his face is not exploded either and that is such a huge red flag, it's crazy.
It's also kind of nice, Hitoshi distantly thinks, because Bakugo's hair is crazy soft. Still, he forces himself to take his hand back before he really pushes Bakugo into biting it off and makes his way over to the kitchen.
He had wanted to make something to eat for himself but now he gets out everything he needs for Yamada's patented hot chocolate.
It takes him barely five minutes to make—already way too practiced at the motions—but Hitoshi still expects Bakugo to be gone by the time he comes back.
But he's still sitting there on the couch in the same position Hitoshi had left him in and he reaches for the mug Hitoshi offers him more on instinct than with an actual desire to take it.
Bakugo eyes the hot chocolate with distaste and then his eyes slide over to Hitoshi.
"I'm not going to drink this shit," he courtly tells him and Hitoshi shrugs, completely unbothered.
"I know."
He never expected Bakugo to—that's not why he made it.
When he first came to live with Aizawa and Yamada, Yamada had made this almost daily, always handing a cup to Hitoshi, even though he had to pour it down the drain more often than not because it was too rich in flavour, too heavy for Hitoshi's stomach in general, who had been deprived of the finer tastes of life for most of his childhood, but still—Hitoshi had always taken the cup.
Mostly because it was nice of Yamada to think of him, to make something for him, but also—holding something warm, something that smelled this sweet was more calming to Hitoshi than any reassurance Yamada and Aizawa tried to give him.
Hitoshi figures that maybe it can work for Bakugo, too.
And he seems to be right, because Bakugo wraps both hands around the cup, inhaling the sweet scent of it and Hitoshi doesn't comment on the way he melts into the couch.
He definitely doesn't mention it when Bakugo takes a tentative sip after a few minutes but he can't help the satisfied smile when Bakugo's eyes go wide and he almost drains the cup in record time.
"Your parents teach you how to make this?" Bakugo asks, once everything is gone and still, Hitoshi doesn't call him out on it.
"Nah. Parents died when I was too young to remember them and my foster parents sure never gave enough of a fuck to give me anything even remotely comforting," Hitoshi says with a shrug, more comfortable speaking about this now that he has a good home and guardians that care.
Enough to give him all the comforting shit he could ever ask for, including hugs and love.
"Where did you learn this then?"
"Oh, Yamada taught me," Hitoshi says and watches how Bakugo's eyes go wide.
"Present Mic is teaching you how to make hot chocolate?" he asks for clarification and Hitoshi gives him a shit-eating grin.
"No, Yamada Hizashi, my foster father, is," he clarifies and Bakugo chews on that for a minute.
He comes to terms with it quicker than Hitoshi would have guessed but there's still clearly a question plaguing him.
"I thought Aizawa would be the one to snatch you up," Bakugo finally says, his eyes glued to the empty cup and Hitoshi huffs out a laugh.
"He did," he simply says and lets Bakugo put two and two together and he manages it much faster than Hitoshi would have expected.
It's entertaining to watch the journey his face goes on—confusion to disbelief to quiet contemplation and finally acceptance—and in the end Bakugo only mutters a quiet "That's good".
Hitoshi has to agree, because it's the best thing that ever happened to him but he only shrugs, letting silence settle around them again.
Bakugo seems more like himself already and there's a bit of the spark Hitoshi is so used to back in his eyes but still, he doesn't talk and he certainly doesn't give Hitoshi any shit, like he clearly loves to do during class, so Hitoshi matches him.
They eventually pick up a whispered, inane conversation about the strange noises the dorm building makes and Bakugo retreats back to his room shortly before the first light of day reaches them.
For a moment Hitoshi is unsure if his presence helped in any kind of way, when Bakugo simply walks off without a look back but right before he vanishes into the staircase, Bakugo looks back over his shoulder.
"Don't tell anyone about this, fuck-face," he says and then gives Hitoshi the middle finger for good measure too and his retreating footsteps are accompanied by Hitoshi's laughter.
Yep, Bakugo is back to his old self alright.
~*~*~
Hitoshi is an asshole, but not in any way that counts and so of course he doesn't mention his nightly meeting with Bakugo to anyone.
Still, Bakugo is tense all throughout the day, glaring at Hitoshi more than is normal, but it isn't until he overhears a conversation between Jirou and Hitoshi that he finally relaxes and backs off.
"He's going to bite your head off during training," Jirou says as if she couldn't care less but Hitoshi knows well enough that the fact she even brought it up means she's worried about him. "What did you do to him?"
"Rude of you to assume I did something. Maybe he just woke up extra bitchy today," Hitoshi gives back, not at all worried about the glares, because he's not going to give Bakugo any kind of reason to really bite his head off but Jirou only narrows her eyes at him.
"You know something. You did something," she accuses him and Hitoshi shrugs.
"I did jack shit. What, you think I went to his room last night and annoyed the shit out of him? I value my life, thank you very much."
"Yeah, I can believe you went into his room for something," Jirou says with a wiggle of her eyebrows and Hitoshi watches in fascination how Bakugo goes bright red before he turns away and doesn't spare a single glance for Hitoshi for the rest of the day.
He does not miss Bakugo's eyes on him because that would just be stupid.
~*~*~
It keeps happening.
Hitoshi tries to make the time move faster on nights he can't sleep—so every night—by entertaining himself with whatever he can find in the communal room and Bakugo joins him more often than not.
He looks haunted and lost most of the time, but by the time morning rolls around, there's a bit of bite back to his voice and a fire in his eyes that was missing before.
Hitoshi isn't in the habit of praising himself for things, but he can't help it, because there's no one else around who he could accredit this to.
One night Bakugo asks him why he doesn't stay in his own room, why he always comes down here and Hitoshi finds that 'I need something to distract myself with' tastes like a lie, because by then he comes down here for Bakugo.
Not even just to be a silent support for him but mostly because he likes his company.
It's a revelation Hitoshi wasn't prepared for and so he shoves it all the way to the back of his mind and continues to spend his nights on the couch in the communal room, in the hopes that Bakugo will show up and then feeling bad about that, too, because it means Bakugo is practically haunted by nightmares.
Hitoshi has never enjoyed anything quite as much and he has also never felt more like a villain for it.
~*~*~
Hitoshi sleepily blinks his eyes open when there's a loud banging at his door. It takes him a moment to understand what is happening, but when he does, he smothers his groan in his pillow.
It's not often that he manages to fall asleep with no problem—it happens maybe four times a year and yes doctors have been consulted about it and it was decided he's just wired like that—and to be waken up during one of those rare nights really fucking sucks.
Enough so that Hitoshi practically leaps out of his bed, yanking the door open and fully intending to kill whoever is on the other side before he freezes when he comes face to face with Bakugo.
Bakugo eyes him from head to toe, before his eyes fall on Hitoshi's bed and it wipes the scowl right off his face.
"You were asleep," he mutters out. "Shit, you were asleep and I—"
"Yeah," Hitoshi sighs out, fury forgotten and body now weighed down with exhaustion. "Come," he then says, tugging on Bakugo's shirt and getting him in the room before he closes the door behind him and he doesn't stop tugging on Bakugo until he's in bed with him.
"Nightmare?" Hitoshi asks once he manhandled Bakugo around enough to have him cuddled up to him, arms slung around him and he is too tired to freak out about it.
Small perks, he guesses, because otherwise he would have never been this brave.
"Yeah, I—you weren't there," Bakugo says, surprisingly compliant with Hitoshi's manhandling even though he's still stiff and before Hitoshi can ask him what else, Bakugo goes on. "You made everything worse," Bakugo says, curling up smaller. "You made it so complicated, my feelings are all over the place because you make it so complicated," he gets out and he sounds desperate in a way Hitoshi has never heard him before, which is reason enough for him to open his eyes again.
The look on Bakugo's face is desperate, too, but strangely enough, it all makes it easier for Hitoshi.
"Yeah? You woke me up on one of the, like, four nights a year I can actually sleep and instead of killing you I got you into bed with me. How complicated do you think this is?" he wants to know and just in case Bakugo didn't get it he presses a kiss to his forehead for good measure, too.
"Oh," Bakugo sighs out and Hitoshi smiles sleepily at him.
"Yeah, oh," he gives back and pulls Bakugo closer. "Now can we just sleep, maybe and sort the rest out tomorrow?"
"Whatever," Bakugo grumbles, though he does shove his face into the hollow at Hitoshi's throat and stays right where he is.
It's a very good place to have Bakugo in, Hitoshi thinks and falls asleep with Bakugo's soft breath tickling his skin.
(They do sort the rest out the next morning, though it involves very little talking. It just—happens. The class is mildly caught off guard when Bakugo brings a bento for Hitoshi, they seem downright terrified for Hitoshi's life when he drops a kiss to Bakugo's hair and they are confused beyond belief when they continue to rile each other up during class like nothing at all changed.
And maybe it didn't; maybe the change happened during one night weeks ago and it's been like this ever since. Neither Hitoshi nor Bakugo care to find out, because this works just perfectly for them.)