BNHA One-Shots and Short Stories (x Reader)

When He's Not Here : Katsuki Bakugou (+ Kirishima)

Bakugou stood without another word, sliding silently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.

For as long as you'd been sharing a bed, Bakugou had been aware of your recurrent nightmares. He'd always been a light sleeper, so it was unavoidable that your muffled whimpers and kicking would wake him up. He was there for you when you needed him, yes, but ... it didn't take long for Katsuki to realize that Eijirou was just better with this sort of thing.

Bakugou didn't know much about emotions, or comfort for that matter. He tended to just blast his way through things and hope others did the same. He had more important things to worry about than "feelings". But he'd be a damn fool to overlook how powerful they could be, especially when it came to you and Eijirou. Hell, even the weight of his own feelings for the two of you shook his world from time to time.

But it just wasn't something he was good at, and it frustrated him. He had to be the best. The best of the best, especially for someone like you. You were his partner, and he'd vowed to himself to be the best boyfriend to you no matter what. Maybe he was being a coward. Shouldn't he work on the things he wasn't good at? Even when they didn't come easy?

He had to at least try.

Bakugou came back into the bedroom with a fresh glass of water in his hand. You took it from him gratefully, letting the cool liquid clear your mind as it slid down your throat.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes. Thank you." You set the glass on the nightstand beside you, curling back into yourself.

The blond racked his mind. What did Kirishima do? Usually as soon as the redhead was awake and cooing over you, Katsuki would try to fall back asleep. He knew you were safe with him, so what was the point in doing anything more? Besides, Bakugou's sleep schedule wasn't something to be messed with. But now Eijirou was gone, and you needed someone to be there for you. You were more important to Katsuki than sleep. And you were still shaking.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bakugou finally managed.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. "It was just a dream. I don't want to think about it more than I need to."

"Oh."

Bakugou sat on the bed in silence. Now what? If you weren't going to talk, how was he supposed to know what to do?

"What does Kirishima do? When this happens."

You glanced at the rumpled blankets underneath you, suddenly—for seemingly no reason—shy. "He usually holds me."

Of course he did. That was your combined solution to everything. Figures.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," you threw out quickly. "I know you're not really in a cuddly mood right now—"

Bakugou gathered you up in his arms and shoved your body into his chest. You gasped at the abrupt motion but were just as quick to relax against him, suddenly feeling secure in his strong hold. His body was a little different from Kirishima's; still thoroughly well-muscled, but otherwise smaller and leaner. You breathed in his scent—also different, but still so heavenly familiar and sweet.

"What gave you that idea?" he asked, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.

"You, um, were facing away from me when we went to bed."

"Tch, dumbass." He shifted you into a more comfortable position on his lap, kissing your scalp. "Now what?" he mumbled into your hair.

"He ... talks to me."