A slight shifting on the mattress and movement between his arms roused Eijirou from his sleep.
His eyes flitted open, squinting at the bright light of another beautiful, sunny day. Once adjusted, they focused on Bakugou, who had just flipped in Eijirou's arms from his back to his side, leaving their faces no more than a dozen centimeters apart.
Bakugou's eyes were closed shut, lids twitching with sleep, his chest expanding and contracting slow and even against Eijirou's. He looked peaceful. Happy, even, and warmth bloomed in Eijirou, relief, and he allowed himself to breathe in the moment. Eyes wide, he studied Bakugou, gaze following the angle of his jaw and cheekbones, hands trailing softly up and down the curve of his spine.
Without even thinking, he brought a hand to brush a longer strand of hair behind Bakugou's ear and gently cupped his cheek. Bakugou's eyebrows scrunched together, and he let out a long groan, turning his head as if trying to smother himself with the pillow.
Through the fabric, Eijirou could just make out a muffled "You woke me up, you fucker".
Eijirou let out a huffy laugh. "Sorry, sorry." He wasn't sorry, though. His hand stayed put.
Bakugou didn't seem to mind. If anything, he relented, leaning into the touch, his face no longer hiding in the plush of his pillow.
With a smile stretching from ear to ear, Eijirou scooched forward, bringing their bodies closer together, gently nudging his face against Bakugou's, placing the softest of kisses on his cheek, then another, and another, and another, on his temple, his forehead, his nose, coaxing Bakugou to accept the affection. Eventually, Bakugou gave in and allowed Eijirou to cup his jaw again and press their foreheads together, their lips hovering apart.
Eijirou's thumb brushed against the corner of Bakugou's mouth. He closed his eyes.
"This okay?" he whispered, his voice so low he could barely hear it himself.
Bakugou didn't say anything. Just nodded against Eijirou's forehead. He grinned and brought their lips together.
No matter how many times they did this, Eijirou was never gonna get tired of it. The soft breaths, the gentle push and pull. It was addicting. Bakugou laid with his back to the mattress, getting comfortable, and Eijirou perched on his elbow over him. Like that, they allowed the kiss to linger, move, deepen a bit, just enough to get Eijirou's heart racing.
Eijirou pulled back, taking in the sight before him. Bakugou's sleepy eyes had finally opened, wide in wonder as they studied him, his lips upturned in a contented smile. Eijirou beamed, his lazy fingers brushing across a cheekbone, finding their way to ash-blond hair and combing through the strands.
As if a fire ignited in him, Bakugou brought his hand to the nape of Eijirou's neck and pulled him down for one last, searing kiss.
"Well, good morning to you, too," Eijirou muttered with a laugh.
Bzzz.
Against his lips, Bakugou groaned.
"Gahh," Eijirou laughed again and rolled onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes. "Stupid phone."
He could hear the yawn Bakugou let out next to him. "It's been doing that all morning. Keeps waking me up." Even after all that kissing, he still seemed half-asleep. "Silence it or something. I'm going back to sleep."
"Nope, nope, I'm wide awake." Eijirou elbowed Bakugou in the side. "Seize the day."
"No."
"Come on, dude," Eijirou whined, prodding at Bakugou some more. "I thought you're supposed to be the morning person in this relationship."
"Fuck off, 'm still tired," he mumbled again. He grabbed his pillow out from under him and smushed it over his head to block everything out. His voice came out muffled. "Seriously, can't we just wait for the alarm?"
That got a gear clinking in place in Eijirou's brain. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head to the side, apprehensive. Come to think of it, the room did look awfully bright for the early morning...
With a yelp, he lunged for his phone.
10:17.
Eijirou choked on his spit.
"Oh no, oh no no no, Katsuki!" He ripped the pillow away from Bakugou's head and shook his shoulder.
Bakugou squinted up at him. "The fuck—?"
"Get up, get up, we gotta get up—!"
"—I said, fuck off—"
"—We forgot to set an alarm!"
Bakugou bolted upright. His eyes were wild, tufts of his hair sticking out every-which-way. "We what?"
"It's past ten!" Eijirou said, shrill. "It's past ten, we're late for class, oh god, we are sooo late—"
"—Shit," Bakugou hissed under his breath. He threw his blankets off of him and scrambled out of bed in a mad dash for the ensuite. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—" The door slammed behind him.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." Eijirou scrolled through the wall of notifications on his phone — messages from Kaminari, that's what had been blowing his phone up all morning — and, well, fuck. There were so many.
[Pichu] 7:27
hey, I'm not getting the hang of English prepositions, do u think we could compare our worksheets before class?
[Pichu] 7:48
hey buddy I'm kinda stressing here, think u can get here any faster?
[Pichu] 8:03
class is starting. Something wrong? u sick?
[Pichu] 8:04
......... blasty's not here either (¬_¬)
[Pichu] 8:04
and u know how pervy my mind can be ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
[Pichu] 8:08
_(:3 」∠)_
[Pichu] 8:52
yoohoo~
[Pichu] 9:03
kiri?
[Pichu] 9:24
okay seriously, both u and Baku are gone, did something happen?
[Pichu] 9:52
....is something happening?
[Pichu] 10:01
people are talking...... about how you two've been acting funny lately................
[Pichu] 10:02
u do NOT wanna know what mineta just said, u really don't
[Pichu] 10:14
probably bombed the assignment, thx friendo (b-_-)b
[Pichu] 10:17
aaaaand now mic's threatened to take my phone so I hope ur happy ;-;
As Eijirou read, his phone buzzed as one final text came through:
[Pichu] 10:18
~u best have an explanation, loverboi~
Bakugou burst out of the bathroom and darted around, locating various clothing items with a mantra of curses under his breath.
Eijirou's legs wouldn't move. He could only look up from his screen, bug-eyed, drop-jawed. "Fuck. Fuck."
"Nope, nope," Bakugou tugged a white undershirt over his head. "Less fucking, more dressing." A beat of silence, then the tips of his ears turned violently red. "Not like that."
Eijirou choked. "...Oh my god—"
"—Shut up! You know what I meant!" Bakugou struggled to hop into some pants, not even bothering to tuck in his undershirt. "Fuckin', quit sitting there and hurry up already!"
"Right, right, right—"
Eijirou finally regained control of his limbs and leaped out of bed, rushing to the restroom to stumble through a speedrun of his morning routine. He'd never gotten ready so fast in his life. No shower, no hair gel, just deodorant and finger combing and furiously brushing their teeth in the little sink in the ensuite to make up for the lost time.
They tossed on some untidy resemblance of the school uniform before slinging their backpacks over their shoulders, rushing through the dormitory, jamming on their outside shoes from the dorm genkan, and sprinting across campus to the academic building. They changed into their class shoes as fast as they could, and finally, they were off to Class 1-A.
"It's between second and third period now," Eijirou huffed, breathless as they hurried down the hallway. "If we're lucky, we'll make it just as teachers are switching."
Bakugou grunted in response. When they reached the door, before either of them had a chance to catch their breath, Eijirou slid it open.
Heads swiveled their way, and all the chatter in the room came to a grinding halt.
Eijirou gave a cheery wave. "Morning!"
Thankfully there was no sign of a teacher, but pretty much all eyes were on them. Some waved back, some gave them a curious once-over, but most just turned back to what they were doing. Bakugou sulked after him, sliding the door closed behind him and ignoring the eyes following them as they headed toward their desks.
Eijirou slid into his chair. One seat over, Kaminari stared him down, arms crossed, expression unimpressed.
"Dude," he said.
"What?"
"Oh, don't give me that," he hissed. "You're like, three hours late! Looking like that!" He gave Eijirou his own pointed once-over, and Eijirou found his hands flying up to comb through his hair some more. "Just... what have you two been up to this fine morning?"
"Bro," Eijirou rolled his eyes, "whatever the heck you're implying, I'm pretty sure only perverts would jump to those conclusions."
"Well. Then I guess half this class is perverted."
Eijirou's eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders drawing up to his ears. He glanced nervously around the room. Behind him, Sato and Tokoyami spoke with each other in low voices, throwing the occasional glance his way. And to the other side of the room, Midoriya...
Eijirou ducked his head, a blush growing on his cheeks as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Shit. Really?"
"'Fraid so," Kaminari nodded gravely. "You two have gotten pretty friendly with each other."
Eijirou grimaced. Crap. What had they been thinking? Being absent together, showing up late together, looking as disheveled as they did — of course people were gonna notice! How had they not thought that through?
Eijirou let out a shaky breath. "I'm not sure we're ready for that," he muttered.
"Oof. Still keeping secrets, then?"
Eijirou's thoughts turned to the night before, and, well, Bakugou had just been so earnest. After all those things he'd said, for a moment Eijirou'd allowed himself to hope that maybe they were on the same page. No need to hide anything anymore. But they hadn't had a proper conversation, either, at least not enough to erase his doubts. Jumping to conclusions would only make things worse, right?
So with a swallow, he shrugged.
Kaminari gave him a sympathetic half-smile.
"Hey," he said, "I really wouldn't get worked up over all of this. They were just joking, except for maybe Mineta, which, no surprises there. And anyway, I covered for you guys! Although I don't think you two coming in together looking like that helped at all."
Eijirou groaned. "Well, what else were we supposed to do? We weren't just gonna skip the entire day!"
"Well, what happened that made you guys late?"
"It wasn't on purpose! It's just the stupid alarm—"
"—Really?" Sero leaned over toward them, catching onto the tail-end of their exchange. "Seems unlikely. Both your alarm and Bakugou's alarms didn't go off? The exact same morning? What're the odds of that, I wonder?" He waggled his eyebrows.
Eijirou shrank into himself. Sero was probably just trying to get a rise out of him — a harmless punch on the shoulder, an exasperated 'quit it already, man, it's not like that'. But instead, he'd stumbled mortifyingly close to the truth, and now Eijirou's cheeks felt like they could catch on fire.
"Uh, yeah," he tried to chuckle, but it sounded forced even to him. "Yeah, um." He swallowed. "Something like that."
And immediately, Eijirou had to bite back a helpless, hysterical sort of laugh. He'd never been the best under pressure, but come on! Could he have responded any worse? Now Sero was eyeing him, squinting with lips pursed in suspicion. He then turned to glance over his shoulder — in Bakugou's direction — and then his head snapped back to face Eijirou, eyes wide with dawning realization.
Nope. Nope.
With a defeated whine, Eijirou thunked his forehead against his desk and caged his arms around his head to block everything out. Maybe, if he hadn't instinctually hardened, he would've hit his head hard enough to not have to suffer through this any longer.
"Kirishima~!"
No such luck.
Pink hands splayed across his desk, and Eijirou blinked up to find Ashido rocking back and forth on her heels, a bright smile on her face. "Glad you could make it! You feeling okay? Kaminari was just telling everyone how you're, like, deathly ill!"
"I'm...?" Eijirou sat up, blinking a few times. He glanced to Kaminari for some sort of an explanation, but Kaminari just winced back at him, offering no help whatsoever. Eijirou tried to laugh it off with a little wave of his hand. "Oh right, I'm feeling loads better now, don't worry! Kaminari was just exaggerating," he pressed through clenched teeth as he kicked at Kaminari under their desks.
Kaminari yelped, but before he had a chance to defend himself, Ashido tapped her chin. "Well, I figured, but you are kind of a mess this morning? What's up with your hair?"
"Yeah, well, you know how it is," Eijirou shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, "being deathly ill and all that."
"Both you and Bakugou, huh?"
One of her eyebrows arched high, and Eijirou bristled under her attentive gaze. God, not Ashido, too! Maybe he really should've hit his head harder!
Finally, Ashido brought her hands together in a clap, making Eijirou jump. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling alright. The way Kaminari was talking, I was getting a little worried you wouldn't be able to come to movie night tonight!"
Movie night? Since when was that a thing? Just how much did he miss that morning?
"Oh, I'll definitely be there!" he smiled, forced, even as he was internally screaming. Why was he always agreeing to shit without thinking? After that morning? He'd rather do literally anything else. Shave off his eyebrows. Hang upside down by his toenails. Anything.
"Hooray!" Ashido cheered. "Well, I really gotta finish up that algebra worksheet. I'll catch you guys later!"
"Sure thing!" Eijirou waved her away with a forced smile, and as soon as she took her seat toward the front of the room, he spun to Kaminari with a harsh whisper. "Oh great, so now I'm supposed to be deathly ill? That was your big cover?"
"I was just trying to help!"
"Oh, sure."
Eijirou set his elbows on his desk and planted his face in his palms. He let out a little giggle that sounded more manic than anything.
"This is so stupid," he said.
"Tell me about it," Kaminari patted his back in a 'there, there' sort of way. "But seriously, if you guys are trying to be on the down-low, you might want to avoid the cafeteria during lunch. Ashido looks miiighty suspicious. She might try to corner you."
"Great. Just great." Eijirou wallowed in defeat for a while longer. Then, collecting himself, he reached out and poked Kaminari's shoulder. "By the way, bro, sorry about that English assignment. I know you were counting on me."
Kaminari shrugged. "Eh, that's alright, shit happens. I just bothered Jirou until she caved, so at least I got some of it done. Also, don't look now, but Bakugou's definitely looking this way."
Eijirou snapped his head up to look across the room, his eyes settling on red, and his heart jumped into his throat. Bakugou blinked as if only realizing he was staring. He recoiled a bit, then swiveled away, ears flushed red. Eijirou looked away, too, and rested his elbow on his desk, face on his fist, hoping to cover the silly grin that had found its home there.
Kaminari let out a low whistle. "Not the most subtle of guys, are ya? Either of you."
"Make fun of me all you want, but leave him alone!" Eijirou whacked Kaminari's shoulder. "He's just... flustered. That's all!"
"Huh. Imagine that." Kaminari regarded Bakugou from across the room with what seemed like genuine awe. Then he turned back to Eijirou with a wink. "Wonder what else you can do to make him flustered...?"
"Oh my god," Eijirou buried his head in his hands. "Stop it, stop it, stop it—!"
Kaminari cackled. "Whatever you say, loverboy!"
Just then, the door slid open, and Midnight entered the classroom, calling for the beginning of their Health course, and Eijirou let out a breath of relief. Finally, a distraction! Hopefully, as the day went on, everyone would just forget about this whole ordeal, no problem.
But just before the lecture began, Eijirou barely made out a mumble from under Sero's breath.
"... Loverboy...?"
Fuck.
This was gonna be a loooong day.
☆
Bakugou blinked warily at the bright scenery around them.
"Why the fuck did you drag me up here again?"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we're in crisis mode here," Eijirou huffed, sitting crisscrossed next to Bakugou's feet. He tore the lid off of the bento he'd quickly snatched from the cafeteria. "I figured that avoiding all of our problems and pretending like they don't exist was the best course of action."
He patted the open space next to him. Bakugou raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway, letting their shoulders brush against each other, a pleasant warmth. The sky was clear and the sunlight was nice on their faces, but the faint crispness in the wind was a reminder of how quickly autumn was approaching. Bakugou surveyed their surroundings some more as he picked up a seaweed onigiri from his tray and took a bite. He looked... amused. Something about the way his mouth quirked at the edge as he chewed.
"But the fucking roof? Seriously, Kirishima? Isn't that a bit... I dunno... cliché?"
"Listen," Eijirou sighed, leaning his head back so it rested against the parapet. "We were kind of in a rush this morning, yeah? So we weren't exactly thinking things through, but we were both absent at the same time — which, not a big deal — but then we burst into the classroom, at the same time, looking like we had just rolled out of bed—"
"—We had just rolled out of bed."
Eijirou snapped a finger. "Exactly!"
"So?"
Eijirou opened his mouth, then promptly snapped it shut.
Did Bakugou really not get how suspicious that looked? This seemed like the sort of thing that'd have him exploding everything in a thirty-kilometer radius, especially after how he'd reacted to the... incident yesterday. And the incident with Kaminari walking in on them sleeping a few weeks ago. Why did they keep having incidents? Were they just that bad at this?
Eijirou cleared his throat and tried again. "So, apparently that got some people talking. Making some... comments about it." He picked up a piece of tempura shrimp with his chopsticks and took a chomp. "I wouldn't even blink at that sort of thing if it came from Mineta, I'd just whack him upside the head. But apparently, it's, like, everyone."
Bakugou grunted. "So?" he said around his mouthful of rice. "I don't see why a few dirty jokes are such a big deal."
"Even when you're the butt of them?"
"Teens are stupid. They'll get over it."
Eijirou looked at Bakugou, surprised. "That's very... level-headed of you. Uncharacteristically so."
"Fuck off. That better?"
In spite of himself, Eijirou barked out a laugh. Maybe it was how he hadn't been expecting it, or maybe it was relief at Bakugou being so casual about everything, but the laughter came easily. Even Bakugou fell into gentle snickering beside him.
This was a side of Bakugou that others didn't get to see often — his sense of humor.
"Priorities, Kirishima," Bakugou continued, nudging their shoulder together. "Forget the pervy jokes, I'm more worried about fuckin' Aizawa laying into us later for being late to class. Not to mention the assignments we missed. Our grades better not take too big a hit."
Through his lingering smile, Eijirou chewed on his lip. Yikes, maybe Bakugou had a point there. That was how crazy the morning had been — he hadn't even thought about grades or anything like that! He'd been too preoccupied with the jokes, the rumors, the scandal, and what it could mean for their relationship. What if it scared Bakugou away?
At the reminder, Eijirou's smile fell away completely. He kicked his foot at the concrete a few times.
"But now they're thinking about it, aren't they?" he said. "Us. Being together. Like that. Even if it's just pervy jokes right now, that'll still make it easier for someone to connect the dots later."
The words hung weighty over them, like maybe Bakugou finally understood the gravity of the situation. At the very least, he wasn't responding, and with a wince, Eijirou shrunk in on himself, shoulders drawn up to his ears. There he waited for the alarm, the panic, the 'Fuck, I hadn't thought of that'.
But it never came. Instead, Bakugou just stared out toward the horizon for a moment, taking another bite of his onigiri. Eijirou kept holding his breath, and he almost said more just to ease his own nerves, try to fill in the emptiness around them. But before he had a chance, Bakugou beat him to it.
"Last night," he said. "Was I not clear?"
Eijirou stared at him, eyes widening.
Last night, when Bakugou had burst into the room and made a freakin' declaration of love, all determined and adamant and manly. He'd seemed so happy, so relieved, like the barriers that had been holding him back were finally gone.
Did this really mean the whole secret part of their relationship was finally over? Bakugou was as stubborn as they came, so what the heck was a big enough deal to change his mind? It didn't make sense. It couldn't have been Eijirou, it wasn't like he was anything special—
Eijirou shook his head to clear the thought. That wasn't how Bakugou saw it, and Eijirou knew it. Bakugou had said it to him, had shown it to him, more than enough times, and even if Eijirou didn't get it, even if his instinct was to feel doubt or disbelief, he had to keep fighting it. There was no way he was gonna let his own insecurities get between them. Not again.
Still. This was a big deal.
Eijirou looked back to his bento. Picked at his food a little.
"I'd wondered if that's what you meant," he finally admitted, letting a small smile return to his face. "Wished, more like. But you've never been okay with people knowing before, so I didn't wanna get my hopes up, or... I mean, just yesterday, you kinda had a conniption—"
"—Did not," Bakugou said.
"Did, too," Eijirou shot back. Then, more gently, "You were on the brink of a panic attack, dude."
After a bit of consideration and another bite of food, Bakugou gave a reluctant nod.
Neither said anything for a moment, which was fine, but it made the distance between them feel even wider. So Eijirou reached out his hand, leaving it palm-up in the air between them.
Bakugou blinked at the hand for a moment, confused, so Eijirou wiggled his fingers a bit. With an amused roll of his eyes, Bakugou set his tray to the side and gingerly linked their hands together. Their fingers intertwined and fell to their thighs.
Eijirou squeezed his hand. Bakugou squeezed back. He cleared his throat a bit.
"I know what relationships usually look like," he finally said. "Especially high school ones. PDA, just fuckin' on display. It's gross. I don't do sappy, performative crap. It's got nothing to do with you. I just don't like it."
And, boy, did that make Eijirou feel awful. Those past few weeks, as he kept trying to get Bakugou to hug him, and hold his hand, and— oh god, the library, that had really happened, and every time Eijirou thought about it, he wanted nothing more than to launch himself into the sun. Every time he'd crossed a boundary, made Bakugou uncomfortable, added up like tally marks in his head. With each one, his guilt grew and grew.
But he knew Bakugou. Bakugou'd played along willingly enough. He wouldn't want Eijirou to apologize for it, or get bogged down by guilt. What he'd really want was for Eijirou to take it to heart. To learn from it.
"That's okay," Eijirou said with a soft smile. "I don't need you to do those things for me."
Bakugou nodded in appreciation, but didn't immediately reply. He just watched their hands as he rubbed his thumb over Eijirou's. Silences like this were more comfortable than not, and for a moment, they both breathed it in deeply.
"Only you get to see me like this," Bakugou finally said, quiet, and it was amazing how just a few words could get Eijirou's heart exploding in his chest. "Only you. But that doesn't mean— That doesn't mean this should be a fucking secret, either. That's not fair. To either of us. If you want to take that step, then I do, too. That's what I meant last night."
Eijirou's chin wobbled. He still couldn't fully wrap his head around it, couldn't understand the thought process that had led Bakugou to this point, but fuck. It made him happy.
"What happened?" he asked, hoarse. He swallowed, thick. "What changed your mind?"
Bakugou thought for a moment, eyes forward. "I know what people think of me," he said. "They want to see me as a villain? Fine, I don't fucking care. I know who I am. But this isn't just about me. When word finally gets out about us, that's it. No take-backs. And it'll involve you." He closed his eyes. "And I just know, the first thing people will wonder is if I treat you like shit."
Eijirou sucked in a sharp breath.
"And why wouldn't they," Bakugou finished. He shrugged, simply, but the words sounded bitter in his mouth.
Eijirou hadn't thought about it like that before. How many people had seen Bakugou at his worst? The sports festival, live-streamed across the world for all to see — afterward, Eijirou'd stumbled across all those things people had said about Bakugou's meltdown. News articles, online forums, video comment sections piled high with crowds of people calling him a nasty piece of work, calling him irredeemable, calling him evil to his core, as if that one video of him at his worst was enough to make them think they knew shit about him. As he wasn't still just a kid.
And then, the kidnapping. That press conference with UA staff, interrogated and berated with accusations, saying that Bakugou was a lost cause, that maybe he wasn't worth saving, that he was as good as a villain anyway. Of course Bakugou wouldn't wanna make their relationship public. Not when people like that were so loud.
This whole time, Bakugou'd been worrying about something like that, and Eijirou'd been so caught up in his own self-critical shame spiral that he hadn't even noticed. Something in the back of his throat tightened.
"All those people, online, and on TV," he said, "they don't know you."
"But what about the ones who do?" Bakugou asked, quick. He turned to Eijirou, eyes searching. "I don't care about the fucking media, Eijirou. Not for something like this. I'm talking about people in our lives. The people we see every day. The ones I've hurt. Someone like that finds out about us, and they'll think I don't deserve you. And you know what? They can think whatever the hell they want, I don't give a fuck. But what if—"
Bakugou turned away with a tch, cutting his words off, but Eijirou heard them loud and clear.
'What if they're right?'
Eijirou's heart ached. He let out a heavy sigh and rested his head on Bakugou's shoulder.
"Katsuki," he said. "You're not a bad person."
"I was. You know I was."
"You did bad things," Eijirou conceded. "Really bad things. And I know that. But that doesn't mean you're a bad person. You're not stuck like that. It's what you choose to do from now on that really matters."
Under his chin, Eijirou could feel Bakugou take in a breath and nod.
"That's why I kept trying to hide us," he admitted. "But that clearly wasn't gonna work in the long run, not when it was hurting you. I had to make things right. So I did. And now it's over, it's in the past. And this," Bakugou squeezed Eijirou's hand again. "This is okay now."
At the explanation, realization hit like a sucker-punch, and Eijirou pulled away to look at Bakugou, eyes wide.
"You apologized," he breathed.
He didn't even have to say Midoriya's name, but Bakugou understood. Bakugou swallowed, thick, then nodded again.
"But—" Eijirou opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock. "But, holy shit, Katsuki. That's huge."
Bakugou looked down at his lap. Gave a little shrug, like it was nothing. Eijirou knew it was anything but nothing, and his heart swelled. He felt proud, he had to take a moment to soak it in.
"So," he eventually asked, low, leaning in close and nudging Bakugou with his elbow. "How'd it go?"
Bakugou pressed his mouth into a thin line. "He and I are never going to be friends."
"Well, I don't think anyone expects that."
Bakugou let out a 'hah', then looked out at the horizon with a chew of his lip.
"He told me he was happy for us," he said. "And that I had nothing to apologize for. Which, total bullshit, so we argued about that for a bit, and—"
"—What," Eijirou interrupted with a disbelieving huff. "About if he should forgive you?"
"Well, he shouldn't!" Bakugou exclaimed, defensive, throwing his hands into the air, and Eijirou let out a giggle. Like, an actual giggle. He felt so light.
"Holy shit," he wheezed. "You can't just forbid people from forgiving you, Katsuki. It's one of the few things you get absolutely zero say in."
Bakugou pursed his lips. Looked to the side like he was embarrassed or something.
"That's what he said, too," he mumbled.
"And what'd you say to that?"
"I told him to fuck off."
Eijirou threw his head back and cackled, belly-deep. "Unbelievable!" he said. "Unbelievable, you're the one person I know who'll pick a fight during his own apology."
"Well, when you put it like that—!" Bakugou said in a flail, almost shouting, but it was okay because then he was laughing, too. Like it was only just now dawning on him how ridiculous he was.
And he was ridiculous, so incredibly ridiculous, but also, Eijirou was so incredibly proud of him. Eijirou could imagine how heavy this had been weighing on Bakugou's chest, could imagine the relief he must've felt shedding all of that weight off.
Maybe it wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for Eijirou, but Eijirou wasn't vain enough to think Bakugou did this for his sake. Bakugou did this for himself. And now, he was brighter. More settled. No regrets. He really gave Eijirou a new reason to be proud of him every single day.
Eijirou breathed in deep, calming his laugh and letting it all out in a content sigh.
"See?" he said, smiling toward the horizon. "You're not a bad person. I think, maybe, it's just taken you this long to realize it."
The wind rustled the trees. Even on this roof, they could hear it. Could see some barely-golden leaves shake loose and fall away. Bakugou's grip on Eijirou's hand tightened so much, he could feel his fingers turning cold, so Eijirou turned to him. Took him in, every windswept strand of his hair, every flicker of his searching eyes, every crease in his brow, every emotion that flitted across his face, and for a moment, Eijirou watched in awe. Bakugou really was so expressive.
"I love you," Bakugou said.
Eijirou couldn't help his grin, couldn't stop the saltwater stinging his waterline. He knew. He knew.
"I love you, too," he answered. It was the easiest thing in the world.
Bakugou put his tray back in his lap and continued eating. Oh right. They'd all but forgotten their food, and lunch was almost over. Eijirou grabbed his bento, too.
"So," he said, taking a bite. "What now?"
Bakugou picked through some steamed veggies, deep in thought.
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted.
Eijirou shrugged. "Neither do I."
"I hate not knowing what I'm doing."
Eijirou hummed. Boy, did he know it.
"So if we're really doing this," Bakugou said, "we gotta have a gameplan."
"Definitely."
"And a strategy moving forward," Bakugou continued, gesturing with his chopsticks, "Because you know they're gonna be fucking nuisances about it. Our business is still our business. When it comes to explanation or elaboration, we don't owe anyone shit. Right? Not unless it's on our terms."
"Right," Eijirou agreed. "So how do we do it?"
They each considered it for a moment.
"Well, if we tell them today, I'm avoiding movie night. I don't wanna get hounded about it. I don't do well under that sort of social pressure."
"Movie night?" Bakugou asked.
"Yeah. I don't know anything about it except that it's tonight and I accidentally told Ashido I'd be there."
Bakugou's face split into a wicked grin.
"Oh, we'll be there."