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Katsuki Take My Hand, We Are More Than Friends

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Kirishima hated Bakugo’s girlfriend. Some wild haired bitch without an impressive quirk. She didn’t even go to UA, just a girl from back home who managed to get on every last one of his nerves.

Bakugo Katsuki was the coolest guy at UA. His quirk was powerful and impressive, flashy and eye grabbing to the point that Kirishima couldn’t help feel jealousy at how much easier it would be for him to catch the eyes of pro-heroes. His jealousy was overwhelmed by admiration, though. Most of the other kids thought Bakugo irrational, angry, a straight up dick even, but Kirishima saw him for what he was; driven, full of pride, yes, maybe still angry and irrational, but also unafraid of speaking his mind…on most things, that is…he didn’t seem to handle expressing positive emotions very well.

As time had passed a few of the other kids were beginning to see it too, that Bakugo was more than just a hot headed accident waiting to happen. People like Sero, Mina and Kaminari. But Kirishima had a connection with him hardly anyone else hope to have. Mutual respect and peer status, even if it wasn't always obvious.

Kirishima held that fact close to heart. As close as he held his disdain for Miyagi Fuka, the girl who had taken Bakugo’s attention from him.

To be fair, deep down she might have been a nice person, or a cool girl, but Kirishima would never attempt to know that. He didn’t care if she was fucking Mother Theresa. She could go to hell.

Because he was madly, insanely, deeply, in love with Bakugo Katsuki and she was in the way.

~

“Oi, shitty hair!”

Kirishima looked up at the wildly ironic nickname, coming from the guy whose hair looked like an explosion had been set off on his head. He flashed a sharp toothed smile at his friend as he sauntered through the library to crash down into the chair opposite Kirishima. His blond hair was as wild as ever and his ruby eyes looked like they could burn holes into concrete.

It was technically the weekend, so Bakugo was out of uniform even though he was at school, his light t-shirt falling almost like it didn’t exist on his firm chest. It was distracting as always, but Bakugo slamming his orange and black boots on the table between them was even more distracting as well as highly disrespectful to his surroundings. A shout, as if from God or the unseen guardian angel of proper school behavior, cut through the library, demanding for Bakugo to get his feet off the table; apparently Iida didn’t have enough of a life not to be here on the weekend either.

Bakugo snapped back at the class rep, but did as he was told, instead pulling his legs crossed underneath him, which was hardly better, but at least less obvious.

“What are you doing here?” Bakugo asked Kirishima, nudging his books with his finger disdainfully.

“I have to study,” Kirishima sighed, “Midterms will be here before I know it and I don’t want to be cramming like I did with finals last semester. That was just too close.”

Bakugo scoffed amusement. “It wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t an idiot.” Bakugo leaned over the table and karate chopped the top of Kirishima’s head playfully, not too hard, just hard enough to make his point.

Kirishima rubbed the spot and smiled sidelong at him, prepping a retort.

“Fuck you, man. At least I didn’t fuck up the licensing exam.”

Bakugo shot to his feet and a minor explosion erupted in his hand.

“You wanna go?” he shouted, which brought multiple shushing sounds that he promptly ignored and another berating from the still unseen, but very heard, Iida.

Kirishima’s hands went up and he shook his head, laughing.

“I’m just fucking with you,” he assured the kid who was half ready to blow his face off, “Why are you here anyway?”

Bakugo blinked a few times and let his stance settle some, rolling his eyes at his shark toothed, red headed friend. He could get so aggressive, but Kirishima was never really worried that Bakugo would actually make good on his threats. It helped that he never showed fear towards them, which from anyone else would have just pissed Bakugo off further. He was easily amused by watching Bakugo get riled up and, he hated to admit, easily aroused as well. What wasn’t to love about such aggressive top energy? Kirishima always instantly felt bad for it, though and apologized, still feeling like he’d been the one who’d won somehow even though he was the one saying he was sorry.

“I was going to tell you to meet up with us tonight. We’re going out.”

Kirishima lit up and then felt his expression suddenly drop. He had to recover it some to ask the next question and not seem indignant.

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“You, me, and Fuka,” Bakugo shrugged.

Of course, Kirishima mentally groaned. That bitch was always with Bakugo whenever he was home or out of school. It was a constant source of frustration to never get Bakugo to himself in his off time. The dorms had helped get him more time with his friend and even a few opportunities to slip into his room when he wasn’t around.

Dishonest and disrespectful, perhaps, but desperation was a hell of a drug. He wanted to regret the things he’d taken from the room, the pen, the shirt, the ripped up picture of Bakugo that the boy’s mom had sent and he'd tried to throw away.

But Bakugo would never notice them missing.

It was rare that Bakugo asked, or rather told, Kirishima to come out with him and his girlfriend and Kirishima couldn’t rightly refuse an extra opportunity to spend time with him, even if it meant being around her.

Bakugo wasn’t normal around her. Kirishima saw him easily as a leader, the one that forced his way no matter what, but when it came to her she pulled all the strings. The only person he’d ever seen push Bakugo around like that was Bakugo’s own mother and in that case Kirishima had only found it endearing, adorable even. But his mother wasn’t a rival for his affection like Miyagi was. It felt wrong for her to do that to him, when Kirishima knew Bakugo was better than that. Bakugo should be the one pushing people around, not getting pushed around. It was all levels of wrong.

Nonetheless, despite all of his feeling towards one Miyagi Fuka, he pulled a large smile and threw out a fat thumbs up.

“I’ll be there!” he beamed through the internal rage and pleasant images of punching her face through the pavement, “If I can finish my school anyway…so much to do...”

Bakugo rolled his eyes again. “I’ll be back...stupid…”

“You’re the best, Bakugo!” Kirishima chuckled as Bakugo went to get his own knapsack to help Kirishima with his studying.

It wasn’t obvious to most, but Bakugo was smart, like big brain smart. He was the only reason Kirishima hadn’t failed his finals, even if he’d had to endure a few bruises from Bakugo’s impatience. He fondly touched the few places he recalled getting smacked while he waited on Bakugo to return. He was built with a quirk perfectly suited to take it and even if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have minded the harsh treatment. It put a smile on his face to fall into thoughts about it, about other ways he’d love to have Bakugo abuse him…

He shook it off. No use indulging fantasies, at least not here in the middle of the library. He could save those thoughts for the privacy of his room. Lord knows he’d need it after having to endure spending time with Miyagi tonight.

When Bakugo got back they studied through the next couple hours, Kirishima purposefully getting a few things wrong just to rile Bakugo back up again. They took small breaks to talk or laugh at some of the stupid things their classmates had done that week, like Mina melting Kaminari’s shoes. It was just small insignificant things, but Kirishima savored every minute of it.

Whenever they finished up and they packed up to get ready to go out, Kirishima stealthily swiped one of Bakugo’s erasers. It had burn marks all over it and it put a smile on Kirishima’s face just to look at the little pink eraser having been subjected to Bakugo’s annoyance much like he himself had many times before. Another little thing Bakugo would never notice missing.

They parted ways at the dorm and Bakugo called after him in that rocky, deep voice that put shivers in his spine.

“Don’t be late, Kirishima!”