As Eijirou woke, a surreal aura of calm surrounded him. He didn't even have to open his eyes, he knew where he was -– lying on his side, in Bakugou's bed, in Bakugou's room. He knew whose body his arms were still wound around, whose soft, yellow hair was tickling his chin and lips, whose forehead was resting against the dip between his collarbone and his shoulder. But this time, he didn't feel the need to panic. This was okay now, wasn't it? Bakugou had given him permission, in his own strange way, right?
He took a deep breath, basking in the young morning sunlight, taking note of the soft scent of musky campfire, immersing himself in every surrounding sensation.
Wow.
Bakugou's body just felt so relaxed against his own. The feeling of his chest expanding and contracting with every breath cast a soothing spell over him. It was slow and even -– he was definitely asleep.
This window of serenity gave Eijirou an opportunity to reflect. As he felt the strong arms that were wound around him, arms that belonged to the thorniest person he knew, he reminded once more of how uncharacteristic his relationship with Bakugou was. Bakugou didn't seem like the type of person who would let many people enter his space like this. Yet here was the blond, willing and comfortable. And over the past few days, Eijirou had seen emotions from his friend that he reckoned not a lot of people got to see. Bakugou trusted him enough, and was able to forget his pride long enough, to allow Eijirou to help him when he needed it.
Honestly, he felt honored to be there. His heart swelled with pride.
Wow, wow, wow...
A back part of his mind wondered what time it was, but a majority of him didn't care. Thanks to him, Bakugou was sleeping better every night. He was helping. No matter how late it got, he would stay like this, silent and still, for as long as Bakugou needed him -– no hesitation. But as Eijirou lay there in complete content, an inkling of a doubt began to tug on his thoughts:
How many more times would Bakugou let this happen?
He frowned.
Soon, he wouldn't even be needed anymore, would he?
Just that thought was enough to send low tides of bittersweet emotions rampaging through Eijirou's soul. A strange feeling overtook him, like his heart was struggling to connect with the emptiness that was beginning to fill the rest of his body, and he pressed tightly into Bakugou, trying to suppress that void. The notion that he would eventually have to let go of this, and so soon...
... He would stay like this for as long as Bakugou needed him, but...
It was selfish, really. And confusing, as he struggled and failed to place a finger on exactly why these emotions were so strong. But a rather large part of him was hoping that this would never stop. Wished that he would never have to pull away. It went beyond wanting to be there for Bakugou, it went beyond the yearning to help a friend.
Who was to say that things like this needed to happen out of necessity? Why couldn't friends talk through their problems, and support each other, and comfort each other like this just out of virtue of being good friends? Why was this only acceptable when it was tied to unfortunate circumstances?
It was ridiculous to think like that, though, Eijirou knew. And anyways, Bakugou certainly wouldn't see things the same way. He didn't ask for sleepovers so they could bro-bond. This was just so he could sleep, so he could be prepared for hero training. Any emotional baggage that was revealed because of this was just a result of his exhaustion and subsequent lack of inhibition. That realization sent a stab of disappointment through him.
Eijirou sighed. He would just have to make the most of this while it lasted, right? He tightened his hug, just barely, nuzzling gently into blond hair, letting the soft smell fill his lungs some more. He could feel Bakugou's warm breaths against his skin, coming out in relaxed puffs of steam that tickled his very nerves. He could feel his own heart beating, perhaps even racing, and a part of him wondered why it was so fast, but he didn't dwell on it.
And then... he couldn't help the yawn that bubbled up inside of him, he really couldn't. So he yawned a big, hefty yawn, and he brought his hand to his mouth to stifle it. As soon as he took the hand away from the shoulder blade that it was resting on, the body next to him roused, and then suddenly tensed up.
And just like that, the spell was broken, and everything shifted abruptly into focus. For a split-second, doubt permeated Eijirou's mind once more, along with the butterflies that fidgeted in his stomach. Bakugou was awake. For the first time, the two of them would have to address their position, actually acknowledge it without the pretense of night or sleep, and he just hoped that Bakugou would take it well.
Bakugou shifted, looking up to catch him at the tail-end of his yawn. When their eyes met, the butterflies in Eijirou's stomach fluttered with new fervor, but his doubts disappeared instantly. Bakugou's eyes were wide, tinged with vulnerability, with an underlying sense of trepidation. There was embarrassment, and some sleepiness, sure. But his eyes were not angry. After a few seconds of staring, the blond gave in to his own yawn.
"Ha," Eijirou grinned, partially from mild amusement, partially from his hopes of easing any lingering apprehension. "Guess those really are contagious. Sorry for waking you."
There was a pause as Bakugou finished his yawn. "'S fine," he grumbled, his voice grouchy, but Eijirou was starting to realize that 'grouchy' was just how his bro spoke sometimes, and it often had nothing to do with how ill-tempered he was feeling that day. "Time?" The blond asked.
Eijirou hummed, turning to his side, making a grab for his phone. The arms that were still around him loosened their hold, and he hid his reluctance as best he could as he shuffled away to sit up on the bed. "9:45-ish." He set the phone on the mattress. "A full 11 hours."
"Fan-fucking-tastic."
Bakugou sat up as well, and the two of them slung their feet to the floor. Now that they were seated side-by-side, with distance between them, Eijirou started feeling awkwardness circle around them. Perhaps he was reading the atmosphere wrong and it was all in his head, but as the quiet dragged on, with neither of them moving or looking at the other, he felt the urge to say something, anything, to quell the tension.
"You slept really well last night," he began encouraging, his voice barely carrying above a whisper. "You started having a nightmare, but I, uh... Well. The nightmare stopped."
There was a grunt, prompting the redhead to watch Bakugou from the corner of his eye. He saw his friend's face morph into that pout, the one that meant he was disgruntled for whatever reason. The one that Eijirou was beginning to find very alluring. Wait, what?
"Hey... Uh," He began, trying to distract himself from his own weird head-space, "However long this takes, I don't mind, really. It's, uh, actually kinda nice." Eijirou winced. Oh my god. Did he really just say that? "I mean, uh. Getting to know you better. It's nice." God, why. If he had been misreading the atmosphere before, he certainly wasn't now. His ears were flushed, he could feel it, and he kinda wanted to slink into the shadows and hide.
In his embarrassment, Eijirou felt as though he was hyper-aware of every detail that surrounded him as well, like how Bakugou was now avoiding his gaze entirely. How his red face looked like he was about to blow his top. How his jaw was set and his nostrils flared for just a second. He also noticed how how well-rested Bakugou looked now. How he was probably rested enough to send Eijirou on his way and never ask to hang out ever again. At his core, he didn't want to leave, not yet. He wanted to be there for Bakugou, for whatever he needed. But his dumb, sappy self had just gone and fucked up an otherwise perfectly wonderful morning, and if Bakugou felt the same discomfort that he did... Oh god, he had to get out of there, he had to escape, before the awkwardness swallowed him up whole.
"Um, I forgot to stop by my dorm yesterday, and I don't have clothes here? So I'm gonna go get dressed."
Bakugou tensed up even more, completely avoiding eye contact, his eyebrows pinched together. It... almost looked as though he was trying to say something, but couldn't.
"Right. Well, I'm gonna go..." He stood up, remembering to grab his phone at the last second before crossing the room to the door.
"Uh, Kirishima?" It was rushed, like Bakugou had spit it out in panic before he lost the nerves.
The redhead paused and looked back over his shoulder, praying that the hopefulness he felt wasn't too obvious on his face. "Yeah! What's up?"
"Um." The blond shifted in discomfort, and Eijirou couldn't shake the feeling of recognition – this was the posture of someone who was hesitant about asking for a favor. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but...
"... Same thing tonight?" he prompted slowly. Hopefully.
At first, Bakugou didn't give any sign that he had even heard. But then gave a little shrug, looking away with that adorable pout of his, trying his best to look disinterested. "Fucking whatever."
An amused grin spread on the redhead's face, and relief spread in his pulsating heart. "So, I have some laundry that I want to get done, but I'll head over after dinner or something. Text me."
Bakugou nodded, and while it was still stiff, some of the tension visibly left his shoulders.
Eijirou gave one last smile before closing the door behind him and dashing to his own room. He leaned against his closed door, clutching at his heart, letting out a breath. He was happy, sure. Very happy. It was nice, feeling like he was helping a friend, and he was looking forward to hanging out with Bakugou more. But that didn't explain his overwhelming relief. Even if they didn't have another sleepover, he would still see Bakugou at hero training on Monday, and every day that week. It wasn't like he would never see Bakugou again when the sleepovers stopped. So why were his palms sweating? Why his heart felt like it wanted to pound itself out of his chest? Why did he feel so strange? What was wrong with him?
He probably just missed his middle school friends so much that he was craving closeness with his new peers. Or something. Probably.
He needed a shower to clear his head.
It was evening. Eijirou had finished heating up a plateful of microwave gyoza, and was trying to simultaneously shove them into his mouth and bring his drying laundry inside before the sun finished setting, when his phone let out a ding.
[090-1790-1357:]
Finished homework. Was fcking easy. wbu
Eijirou squinted at the notification in confusion for only a second, before he realized that it was Bakugou's number. He smiled to himself, punching in a new contact page and saving the number before responding.
[Me:]
Yah, I finished ᕙ( •̀ ~ •́ )ᕗ You still down to hang?
Maybe it was just in his head again, but the reply seemed to take forever to come in, and Eijirou's nerves decided to start acting up for absolutely no reason. When his phone buzzed again, he let out a sigh.
[King of Explodo-Kills:]
Fuckn whatever, dipshit
Which, Eijirou was quickly beginning to figure out, meant 'yes'. So he finished moving his food and laundry as quickly as he could, before heading over to Bakugou's. When he was settled on his futon, the two didn't talk about much. They mostly were on their phones, with the occasional comments about their classmates and training lessons.
Then, they went to sleep rather early, so they could be well-rested for hero training the next day.
Then, when Bakugou had a nightmare, Eijirou was there to comfort him, easing him out of his distress with soft encouragements and gentle hair pats, staying by his side until morning.
Then, they woke up together at the alarm, got ready for school together, went to class together. The afternoon, they separated to work on homework, or socialize, or eat dinner.
And then, Eijirou got a text.
And the cycle repeated.
Tuesday passed, then Wednesday. By Thursday night, Eijirou didn't even need to wait for a text, he just knew to head over as soon as he was done with dinner. By Friday morning, Eijirou had accumulated his own drawer in Bakugou's dresser filled with toiletries and pajamas, and an extra uniform hanging in Bakugou's closet.
Every night, Eijirou would feel happiness in his gut as he helped his friend rest. And every morning, he would wake up, feeling both content and confused as he battled with an array of emotions that he didn't have words for.
This routine was so easy to fall into. And it was really, really strange, once he thought about it. Like, this was totally not a normal habit for two teenagers to have. Eijirou knew this, and he suspected that Bakugou knew it as well. Yet, neither of them gave any indication of wanting to stop anytime soon, regardless of how strange it was.
Plus, there was always the futon. That was the safe-guard. Bakugou had the bed, Eijirou had the futon, and their two spaces only meshed when it was necessary. This was the one justification that stopped this whole thing from becoming too weird.
It seemed to be working, too. Eijirou started noticing on Tuesday that Bakugou's nightmares didn't seem as bad. Maybe, he was quicker to comfort his friend, cutting the dreams off sooner, but Bakugou's explosions didn't seem as loud, nor his cries as panicked. Which was just a constant reminder of how few nights they probably had left together. That thought still made him sad, but if it was a result of Bakugou getting better, then he should be happy, shouldn't he?
But during the days, Eijirou started noticing another pattern. It was slight, so slight that the other students may not have even noticed it. But Bakugou was starting to fit into the class, just a little bit better.
He was starting to remember everyone's names, for one. He called Iida by his name on Friday – well, he actually called him 'Class-Prez Iida-sama', and in a totally disrespectful and mocking tone, but it was a start. Kaminari's name had been promoted from the general 'fuck-munch' to a more personalized 'Pikachu you fuck', which Eijirou still considered an upgrade.
Bakugou would also give out suggestions during their training. Sure, sometimes the suggestions were uncalled for, making him look like a complete smart-ass, and other times they sounded more like insults than advice, but it was progress nonetheless. Eijirou always knew that the guy was smart. But now, he was applying his smarts to helping his classmates succeed, and that spoke volumes about his improvement.
And bit by bit, Bakugou's temperament improved as well. Everyone still treated him like the same antisocial, raging fuse that could go off at any second, and many times the blond did act like it. He was still Bakugou, after all. But he wasn't nearly as hostile.
Was this what Bakugou looked like when he was trying to make friends? Even if his efforts were lackluster, it was the thought that counted, and it still made Eijirou overflow with pride.
But Friday night, something was different.
At first, it resembled every other night from the past week. Eijirou had been fast asleep, on the verge of dreaming, when the explosions started, just like the nights before. But when he looked over to Bakugou and saw the sweat beading on his forehead, heard his whimpering, he knew something was wrong. The explosions became louder faster, and Bakugou's cries were much more frantic, he was shouting out, his face twisted in anguish. This was far, far worse than previous nights, and for several seconds, Eijirou couldn't even move, he was in such shocked distress.
Then, Bakugou started hyperventilating, and it physically hurt in his chest, seeing his friend so undone, he had to do something. Eijirou forced his body to move, as quickly as he could, and he did his best to slide next to his friend, embracing him.
The explosions immediately stopped, and a strangled cry filled the room. "Kirishima?" Bakugou choked out, disoriented and in a panic as he awoke, his body shaking.
"I'm here. I'm here."
"Kirishima," he rasped out again, clutching onto Eijirou like his life depended on it. His broken voice whimpered, a quiet wail filled with pain and relief and anger, but he sounded restrained.
"Shhh, I'm here, it's okay. It's all okay. Let it out. Please, you need to let it out..."
And Bakugou did let it out. He threw a fit, tears and sweat streaming down his face, letting out cries in frustration as he pounded his fist into the bed, over and over again, and each impact was like a blow to Eijirou's heart. Tears brimmed on his own eyes, because honestly, Bakugou was so broken, it was causing all sorts of emotions to well up inside of him. But he had to hold them back, for Bakugou's sake.
"I got you, Katsuki, I'm here, you're fine. Let it all out, shhh..."
He pressed into Eijirou, his face hidden against the redhead's chest, his arms squeezing Eijirou's torso so tightly that it hurt, his voice catching as if he was trying to suppress the sobs that continued to wreck through his whole body. There he cried, until he was so tired that he couldn't anymore. Eijirou just did what he could, running soothing fingers through Bakugou's hair, rubbing slow circles into his back. He kept speaking, the words falling from his mouth without much thought, anything that might bring his friend some reassurance.
It took a very long time for Bakugou to calm down, much longer than any other night. But eventually, his gasping leveled out, just a little, turning into softer snivels. Slowly, his body fell limp, his arms releasing much of their hold, and Eijirou couldn't tell if he was asleep or awake. After several more minutes, Eijirou's words came out quieter until they were nothing, the silence in the room pressing against his eardrums. He himself was beginning to drift off, when into the still darkness of the room, Bakugou let out a shaky breath.
"I can't keep fucking relying on you, you know."
Eijirou blinked his eyes open. His heart sank. He tightened his hold. "I know."
"I need to work this out, by myself if I have to."
"I know."
"We can't do this forever."
Why not?
"I know."
—————
Notes:
Wow, this fic has fanart inspired by it now!! That is so incredible, please be sure to check the artist out!
By tumblr user santeria, a piece inspired by Chapter 5.
(fan art shown at the top of the chapter)