Polaroid Nights | KiriBaku

Fucking Feelings

"Suki, I need help," Kirishima whined, pouting as he scribbled on the corner of his paper.

"You always need help." Bakugo's tone was flat, but he moved next to Kirishima to look at the problem he appeared to be stumped on. "Oh. That's actually kind of difficult. An independent clause is a statement that can be said alone, like 'The dog is brown. A dependent clause is—well, dependent. It relies on the independent clause to make sense, like if you said 'The dog is brown and likes treats'."

"Oh!" Kirishima perked up, suddenly much more understanding of Present Mic's homework. That makes so much more sense, okay."

"Didn't Mic explain it earlier? You seriously need to start—"

"Paying attention?"

"Yes," Bakugo said, exasperated.

"I know, I know." He paused, staring blankly at his paper and accidentally dropping his voice to a whisper. "I try."

Bakugo frowned, noticing how Kirishima seemed suddenly . . . sad? Unsure? He wasn't one for reading people, but Kirishima was such an open person that it was clearly nothing good. And, seeing as he'd gotten plenty of help from the stupidly cute redhead, he felt inclined to do the same even despite his lack of experience.

"Red?"

Kirishima perked up a bit at the nickname, trying to ignore the building butterflies in his stomach. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

His eyes blew wide, seeing how suddenly concerned and almost tender Bakugo was. "Uh—"

"Don't even start fighting me on this," Bakugo tapped his head with his favorite rolled up paper, though it didn't hold much malice after their weeks of bonding. "You were making a face."

Kirishima huffed, turning his head. Really, he didn't want to talk about it, but not for any truly concerning reason. For all the times he'd told his friends that talking about their feelings helped, he didn't do it often.

"Shitty Hair—Red—Oh, fuck it—Eijiro." Kirishima jolted, turning his head with wide eyes. "Fuckin' talk to me. I'm not as good as you with comfort but I'm pretty sure I can call you out on whatever bullshit you're thinking up."

"Uh, yeah." Kirishima nodded idly, the thought of Bakugo saying his given name fresh in his mind. "Right. Uh-huh."

Bakugo sighed, exasperated. "Not the answer I was looking for, stupid."

"Oh, yeah! Right! Uh. I don't know, just feeling down. Never been good at academics. I mean, I'm not like, stupid or anything, right? But I'm not like you or even Midoriya—sorry, that might be annoying, huh? But you gotta admit, his analysis skills are really impressive." Bakugo just grunted in dismissal. As annoying as it was, Kirishima was right and he didn't feel like denying it. "So I guess I'm just stuck on not being good enough or whatever."

"That was painfully easy to get out of you," Bakugo stated, almost impressed, before smacking Kirishima over the head with his paper. "Now don't be fuckin' stupid, stupid." Kirishima opened his mouth to retort, only to get hit over the head again. "You may not me some fucking genius in English or whatever the fuck but you're anything but stupid. You have a great fuckin' quirk and some of the strongest morals I've ever seen, who gives a fuckin' shit if you don't know some shit?"

Kirishima blinked once, then twice. "You know, coming from someone who wants to be the best at anything and everything—"

"Shut the fuck up before I kill your dumbass. I'm allowed to, you're not."

"What?! That's not fair!"

"Shut up! Die!" Bakugo smacked him over the head with his paper until, eventually, Kirishima snatched the paper and did it back. It quickly became a full-blown wrestling match, Kirishima launching out of his chair to tackle Bakugo to the ground and instead getting rolled onto his back and pinned down. The second he realized how close their faces were, how it was so close to being a kiss, he shoved Bakugo off and flung himself away with his hands in the air.