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It’s only at night that he realizes it. After a good day of training, a good fight – one he won, as always – and a good bath to wash the dust and the sweat from his body, Bakugo looks at his arms and sees them.

Scars. Fucking Deku.

“What are you looking at?”

Kirishima joins him on his bed, lying on top of him, shirtless – as always.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just a scratch.”

Kirishima giggles, a sound directly coming from heavens. “You make me think of the black knight in that movie.”

“Which movie?” If it makes Kirishima laugh they should watch it together.

“The Holy Grail? Never heard of it?” Kirishima takes his wounded arm into his hand, contemplating Midoriya’s work. “Does it hurt?”

“I didn’t even realize they were here until now.” It’s really nothing, it barely bled anyway but Kirishima kisses them nonetheless. Each reddened line on his pale skin gets a soft pick of soft, loving lips.

“Are you trying to replace Recovery Girl or what?” A soft laugh escapes his lips when Kirishima kisses him harder as his sole respond. He’s impossible. Impossible soft, directly out of the heavens.

Bakugo caresses his face with his free hand. Their eyes meet.

“Hey,” he takes out his left hand from Kirishima’s grip and runs his thumb on his top lid, where the scar is, “You never told me how you got this.”

Because no matter how reckless he is, with this unstoppable body of his, unbreakable as he calls it, there has never been a single scar left on his skin. Kirishima remains soft, perfect, smooth under his touch, battles after battles. Except for this one here.

Kirishima is looking away, he seems embarrassed.

“It’s stupid, really,” Bakugo caresses the scar again to give him courage. He’s so brave on the battlefield, but here in his arms sometimes, he feels so small. It shouldn’t – it should never – be the case. “It was the day my quirk manifested. Rather, it was the night.”

When he stops, Bakugo sits up, his face a breath away from Kirishima’s. “And?” he demands.

Kirishima still won’t meet up his gaze. He’s smiling only from one corner of his mouth with shyness, and it’s as adorable as painful to realize they are still things, memories he doesn’t feel like sharing with him without feeling this way.

“I had just woken up. I needed…to pee. I brushed my eyes and…” He mimics the act, his soft fist bumping into his right eye and laughs quietly. “It’s just as stupid as it sounds.”

“Why do you say that? You’re not stupid.” Bakugo kisses the tip of his nose, the top of his cheekbones. “Nothing, coming from you, is stupid. Nothing.”

He loves the blush that covers his face immediately after, so deep he can still see it in the mild darkness of the room. “Shut up. My boyfriend is stupid.”

Bakugo smirks, “You’ve got some nerves.” He’s being brave again. “Say that again?”

“My boyfriend is-“ Kirishima is stopped by a pair of lips, “My boyfriend is-“ a kiss again, “My boyfriend-“ Bakugo never stops kissing him until Kirishima doesn’t even try to speak anymore. They rest chest on chest, hearts to hearts, secured under the blanket of Bakugo’s bed.

Bakugo kisses the scar on Kirishima’s right eye, and wishes he had some of Recover Girl’s power to heal the old invisible wounds Kirishima knows so well how to hide. He knows he possesses them, the words that could cure him from his insecurities, but Bakugo doesn’t know yet how to use them. Words are powerful weapons for broken hearts, and Bakugo knows he’s not really careful with them.

That’s why, from now, he’ll do what he can do, and if it’s just holding Kirishima in his arms and kissing him then it’s fine.

Every scar disappear with time.