2am Knows All Secrets [Kiribaku]

last night I woke the fuck up

And there Shitty Hair was, stepping into his space, touching him, hugging him, and Katsuki should've pushed away. He should've, but he didn't. He didn't have the strength anymore. Suddenly, in Kirishima's arms, in the middle of the goddamn hallway, he was falling apart. Tears brimmed at his waterline, overflowing and dampening Kirishima's shirt. Kirishima didn't mention it. Kirishima didn't make fun of it. Kirishima didn't pity it.

Katsuki didn't get it. Why'd Kirishima care? What was in it for him?

But this wasn't his mom or dad. This wasn't one of his old cronies, this wasn't Deku, or Aizawa, or All Might, or that stupid fucking therapist. This was Kirishima. Sincere, selfless Kirishima. The same person whose hand he'd trusted enough to take at Kamino.

In his arms, Katsuki couldn't help but wonder — was this really much different?

☆

Although, agreeing to a sleepover had been a fucking stupid idea. In what world did he, Bakugou Fucking Katsuki, willingly show a single ounce of vulnerability to some rando? But he wasn't a fucking coward, either. He wasn't about to back out on his word.

And anyway. At least it was Shitty Hair. At least it was Kirishima, and not someone else.

So, without much fanfare, the sleepover began, and all his secrets leaked out.

Katsuki had never admitted some of this stuff before. To anyone. But the more he opened up, the less he cared. It didn't matter anymore that these were his vulnerabilities, or his insecurities, or his deepest secrets that he was spilling. It didn't matter when he cried or descended into a full-blown panic attack, because it was just Kirishima. Kirishima listened to him. Kirishima cared. If it was just Kirishima, then Katsuki could do it.

Katsuki had never had anyone like that before.

When all was said and done, they got ready for bed, and for the first time in weeks, sleep came within minutes. No stalling, no building sense of dread. Just sleep.

Hours later, in the midst of nightmares, a gentle voice filled his mind and calmed the storm.

Later still, as the dim light of the still-rising sun filled his room, Katsuki woke with a jolt. It was hot. So hot, too hot, the uncomfortable stuffiness of shared body heat, and he froze. His breaths turned shallow and his muscles grew taut and his veins rushed like they were on fire. His brain screamed at him to get away, get away get away, the sweet smell of smoke tinging the air—

But then there was the soft beating of a restful heart in the chest under his ear, the comfort of the arms surrounding him, the lax hand resting on the small of his back — Kirishima's hand, Kirishima's arms, Kirishima heart, and at the realization, Katsuki's eyes stung. It was just Kirishima. He swallowed the lump building in his throat and gasped out a breath.

Just Kirishima. Just Kirishima.

He repeated those words to himself, over and over again, a lull, and before long, he drifted off once more.

Later that morning, when an alarm blared and the weight under him bolted from the bed in a panic, Katsuki couldn't deny that whatever the hell happened last night had worked. And he couldn't help but think that maybe, it was easier to deal with all this bullshit with Kirishima by his side. And maybe, that was okay.

And even later, when Katsuki woke up for real, feeling better rested than he'd felt in weeks, the thought occurred that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind all that much if it happened again.

☆

As a rule, Bakugou Fucking Katsuki didn't answer to anyone but himself. Why should he care about the thoughts or advice of a bunch of worthless extras? He was just gonna step over all of them, anyway.