Author's Note:
*sips tea*
So.
Technically, no one asked for this, but I wanted to write it anyway. Then someone requested a sequel, so I made this prequel first (because I had a clearer idea, nothing against them). It doesn't matter if you read Little Secret or Big Secret first, so do whatever if you're new.
Little Secret did surprisingly well, so I was more than happy to jump back into the mini AU. This takes place about a month before the events of Little Secret. I could not pick whether this is angst or crack, so I made it both. Both is good.
This is my first crack at angst (haha, see what I did there? I'm so smart and funny). If it's bad, then it's kind of just practice for me. If it's good and you decide you like it . . . hooray! I did something right (for once)!
Anyway, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!
-Sugar
Warnings: Mentions of/implied sex, but nothing actually graphically happening. Bakugou doesn't like the color pink. Also language from YoU kNoW wHo
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Bakugou stood in front of your door, scowling as usual.
Ever since you and Kirishima had started dating, it felt like the red-haired hard boy was impossible to be reached, constantly spending all his time with you. Bakugou had expected as much when the two of you had announced to him that you were a couple, but this was starting to get ridiculous. He was starting to feel a little too left out, getting angry at how much he found himself missing your presences as you had once hung out interchangeably in all three of your rooms. But that was before, when you were all just friends.
Just friends.
Bakugou shook his head before rapping impatiently at your door. "Oi, (N/N), have you seen Kirishima?"
"I'm in here."
Katsuki immediately recognized the sound of the redhead's voice on the other side of your door, causing him to frown. Of course. Just as he'd anticipated.
"It's open," you called.
And you were in there too. Gods, he hoped he didn't just catch you two doing something disgusting, like kissing or worse. He was almost to the point of praying that the two of you were at least decently clothed when he opened the door.
What he most certainly didn't expect was the sight before him, immediately smacking him in the face the moment he walked in.
Kirishima had just gotten up from laying belly down on the floor, clad only in a pair of loose black sweatpants, defined muscles clearly out for anyone to see. You were right next to him, sitting in your cute pajamas. Bakugou had tried telling you off for copying him by wearing that black tank top like he did, but you had insisted that it had been as much your idea as it had been his. His gaze wandered to your bare legs, accentuated by a pair of short (F/C) shorts.
The most shocking thing however, was the fact that both your faces were slathered in some sort of mint-green paste, hair tied up and pushed back with fuzzy animal-themed headbands.
"Need something, Bakubro?" Kirishima asked, yanking him out of his thoughts before he could get too far down a rabbit hole that would be painfully embarrassing to climb himself back out of.
"You have my notes. I need them."
It was true, Kirishima had asked to borrow Katsuki's lesson notes, like he always did at the end of the week. Upon finding the boy absent from his room, Bakugou could have easily let himself in and taken them off his desk, right where they always were. But for some reason, he'd been driven to go out and find the redhead. He didn't know why. Maybe it was to torture himself. He never knew why he even still bothered being around you two.
There was a new feeling ever since you'd become official; a sickness churning in the pit of Katsuki's stomach. Oddly, he vaguely recognized it from when that damned Deku would constantly show him up, but this one was always much stronger, somehow even more painful.
Why did he wince every time you went to grab Eijirou's hand? Why did he find himself with the urge to go be sick when he'd first seen Eijirou lean over to give you a peck on the cheek? It had been because it was gross couple stuff, right? Bakugou wasn't here for all that nasty touchy-feely stuff. He'd seen his parents do it, and it disgusted him. And now his best friends were doing it with each other; sometimes right in front of him, sometimes when you thought he couldn't see.
But he saw, and he knew. He'd heard you, late that night after training. Heard the two of you noisily entering Kirishima's room, clicking the lock on the door as you'd stumbled to the opposite wall. He'd listened to everything: the telltale sounds of skin meeting skin and coming together. He'd heard both your sweet, pretty voices, desperately trying to keep quiet as foreign waves of feelings coursed through your bodies on the other side of the wall. The thin wall, where every sound was as plain as if the barrier hadn't been there at all.
He should have stopped himself then. He should have given up all hope, closed down all his feelings. He'd laid awake the whole night, thinking about how his two best friends were now seeing each other in this way. You were third years, and having relationships within the class was to be expected. But his best friends? Together? And now it was just him. The sideliner. The outcast. The third wheel. Alone.
He'd been forced to listen. It hadn't been his choice. It was even less his choice when the two of you had approached him the next day, listening one last torturous time to you as Kirishima sheepishly explained that the two of you had become an item. Bakugou pretended like he didn't already know.
He should have stopped hanging out with you, distancing himself as the two of you grew closer. But this had all happened almost four months ago, and he hadn't been able to force himself away from either of you. He couldn't tell if he resented you both or genuinely enjoyed your company.
What did it matter? It was only his stupid emotions, stupid feelings bleeding through his inforced walls. He had other things to focus on, better things. Like being a hero. Training to be at the top of the class, climbing ever higher to surpass All Might and be the number one hero. That was his goal. That was his purpose. It had nothing to do with his idiot, overly supportive best friends—if he could even call you that anymore.
"My notes?" Eijirou's voice questioned.
"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Where are they?"
"My desk," Eijirou said. "Like always. My door should be open, you could have just taken them."
Bakugou scowled. "Oh," was all he said.
"Hey, we're having a spa night," you piped up.
"I noticed," Bakugou shot back.
"Ooh, you should totally join us, Bakubro!" Kirishima's green-caked face slipped into a grin with ease, flashing his ridiculously cute sharp teeth.
"Yeah!" It was your turn to beam, face lighting up in your smile. "Spa night for three!"
Just the three of you. That sounded wonderful. And also absolutely terrible.
Bakugou scoffed. "You're not going to get me to do your childish nonsense. I need to go study. And then sleep."
"The gren-nerd returns," you said, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Blasty, there is such a thing as too much sleep."
"Yeah," Kirishima agreed. "Besides, it's a Friday night. You have all weekend to do whatever. Have some fun with us and lighten up for a change!"
Katsuki glared at you, hovering inside the doorframe. You smirked and began pumping your fists in front of you, maintaining eye contact with him.
"Spa night, spa night, spa night—" Your voice took on a low, stage whispered chant, and soon Kirishima joined in next to you.
"Spa night! Spa night! Spa night—!"
"Fucking dammit," Bakugou finally said, slamming the door shut behind him and stomping over to where you were sitting in the middle of your floor. He hurled himself down into a sitting position, trying to make every possible inch of his body language convey that he didn't want to be here. "You're just a pair of idiots and losers."
"I refuse to be cast down by your simplistic labels and insults," you said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. "Gimme your face. Now."
Bakugou jerked his head back from you, even though you technically hadn't even reached for him yet. "What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously.
"We must start with the face mask. Eiji, go get him a headband."
"A what?! I am not—"
"Yes, you are," you said firmly. "Unless you want to go take another shower to get it all out of your hairline, because, trust me, it gets everywhere."
Kirishima came back and flopped back down beside you, handing over a fuzzy, pink and white fabric headband with small bear ears stitched onto the side. Bakugou looked from it to the ones you were wearing. You donned a sparkly pink unicorn themed one, decorated with a horn, ears and a fluffy puff of a mane. Kirishima wore one that was very similar to the headband you were now holding, except his was black and white, clearly panda themed.
Katsuki pointed at Eijirou's head. "I want his."
The redhead blinked. "What?"
"Yours is cooler and not pink. I want that one."
You sighed. "Katsuki, it doesn't matter."
"I'm not wearing pink!"
"What's wrong with pink?" Eijirou asked.
"It's too girly!"
"Hey, pink can be a manly color," Kirishima argued. You nodded your head in agreement.
"Then why aren't you wearing it?" Bakugou shot back.
Eijirou blinked. "I, uh—um—"
"See, you don't want to wear it either!"
"That's not—!"
Bakugou lunged towards Kirishima, grabbing at the item keeping his red bangs pushed off his forehead.
"AAH—hey! It's gonna smear—!"
The boys took a moment to scuffle, Eijirou desperately trying to hold back Katsuki's arms as they grabbed at him. You took a moment to look into an invisible camera like you were on The Office, heaving a sigh.
"Alright, that's enough." You pulled Katsuki off your boyfriend by the back of his shirt collar, shoving the pink headband into his hand. "You can either wear the headband, or you can let it get in your hair. Eijirou was here first, so that one's his. Got it?"
Bakugou donned his 'I just bit into a lemon' face, spitting out a "tch" before reluctantly putting it on his head, pulling it up so his forehead was on display.
You noticed the ears were a bit off kilter, leaning a little too far to the left. It set off a tic in your face, making you reach over and straighten it out. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou froze when your hands and face came nearer to his own, breaths stuttering and slowing to a stop. You sheepishly finished adjusting it, sitting back when you were satisfied.
In all honesty, you'd tried to ignore Bakugou's shift in behavior around you. He was as abrasive and irritable as ever, but there was something in the way you'd noticed him looking at Kirishima. You'd gotten briefly jealous until you realized he often acted the same around you. You told yourself to pay no heed to it, and now certainly wasn't the time to be sorting out and guessing at the feelings of your emotionally closed-off best friend.
"If either one of you takes my picture like this," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna fucking kill the both of you."
"Sure."
You glanced over and made eye contact with Eijirou. One of you had to do just that without him noticing by the end of the night. He was simply too cute not to; the pink matching his ash blond hair just right.
You tore your gaze away from Katsuki. I have a boyfriend right here, who I love very very much, you reminded yourself.
That much was true. Maybe you weren't allowed to order off the menu anymore, but it couldn't hurt to take another glance.
"Alright," you announced. "I'm getting the face mask back out." You got up and walked to your felt storage container of toiletries, grabbing the same green tube and package of face wipes you'd used only minutes prior.
"So why the fuck do you have three of these?" Bakugou asked, referring to his newly acquired pink ears.
"Sleepovers, duh. Also there was a sale and they're really cute and cheap, so there."
Bakugou let out another tch as you sat back down in front of him. You pulled out a wipe and began to work at his face, removing any oils that might have gotten on there throughout the day.
"Relax your face," you ordered, and Bakugou surprisingly complied. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that. You know, the whole frowny thing."
"You sound like my mother, dumbass," he commented, keeping his lips turned down in a frown.
"Well, your mother is right."
"Feh."
You ignored his dismissive noise. "You have really nice skin, you know," you commented, moving back to your seated position and tossing the wipe in the general direction of your trash bin. "Do you have a routine? I found out today that Eijirou doesn't so that's what got us started."
The redhead shrugged behind you, having taken out his phone while you tended to Bakugou.
"Um, I wash it sometimes," Bakugou admitted. "My mom said something about how our sweat helps keep it clear, but she still sends me stuff every now and then."
"Neat." You sighed. "Wish my sweat actually helped my skin. Other than, you know, keeping it cool and whatever."
You took the tube from the floor next to you, popping the cap open and squeezing some onto your fingers.
"What is that stuff?"
"Avocado oatmeal clay mask," you said, glancing at the label. "Purifying."
"Huh."
You leaned forward again on your knees in front of him, beginning to spread the green paste over his cheeks and forehead like you'd done to Kirishima.
"I'm not a baby, you know," he protested. "I can do it myself."
"Oh, come on," you countered. "It's fun having your friends take care of you. Just let me do this."
Bakugou sighed through his nose. He had to admit, there was a teeny tiny part of him that liked how close you were, the way your fingers glided over his cheeks and forehead.
But you had a boyfriend. A very sweet, loving, cheerful boyfriend. He was yours and you were his, and Bakugou was . . . unavailable. He'd stay yours and Kirishima's friend, and he'd just have to accept it.
You finished fixing up his face, going back to your criss-crossed sitting position and wiping your fingers off with a tissue.
"Now what?" Bakugou asked.
"We can wash it off in about ten minutes, we just have to wait for it to dry."
Bakugou sat back, assessing the sensation of the mask on his face. It was cold and sticky, but he had to admit it smelled good. He'd never done anything like this before, and the tiniest part of him actually didn't hate it.
You started talking about a meme you'd seen on Instagram, and you laughed with Kirishima. You both were cute in your face masks and headbands. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but maybe Katsuki would be willing to sit through something like this again if it meant seeing you both like this.
You sat back and seemed to go into thought for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do next. "Eijirou, let me see your nails." He presented them to you, his face questioning. You studied his cuticles, clicking your tongue. "Imma get you some nail oil. We could probably all use some."
You got up again and grabbed the little bottle, twisting off the cap and beginning to brush the liquid onto your boyfriend's nails.
"What does that do, exactly?" he asked, watching you concentrate.
"Strengthens your nails," you explained. "Keeps them hydrated so they won't crack and break off so easily."
"Look at that Bakugou!" Kirishima proudly proclaimed. "Imma have strong, manly nails!"
You giggled, beginning to blow on them so the solution would soak in and dry faster.
"Babe, I just realized something," Kirishima said.
"Yeah?"
"We look like Shrek."
You looked up at him, his face caked in the solid green mask, then turned your gaze to Bakugou. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but, yeah, we totally do."
You both started cracking up again, and Eijirou laid down on the floor as he laughed. He had the sweetest laugh, the absolute best. You provided hefty competition, however; your slightly higher voice adding to your own pretty sound.
"No hate on my mans Shrek, though," Kirishima said, sitting back up as his audible joy died down a bit.
"Shrek is love, Shrek is life," you said, nodding your head solemnly.
"I thought I was love. For you." Kirishima's expression changed to puppy eyes, pretending to be more hurt than he was.
"Uh, yes. But I've known Shrek longer than you, so he represents life."
"What the fuck, guys."
You both ignored Bakugou's comment, proceeding to bicker.
"But he doesn't love you like I do," Kirishima argued.
"He's shrekxy."
"I—" Kirishima blinked, shaking his head a little in bewilderment.
"Fite me, it's a scientific fact."
Instead, Kirishima turned his gaze to the blond, who was watching the full affair with barely concealed intrigue. "Bakubro, I'm getting jealous of a fictional 2-D green swamp ogre. I think my girlfriend is going to leave me for him."
"Actually he's 3-D," you corrected.
"See?" Kirishima exaggeratedly gestured at you in mock offense. "She doesn't appreciate me anymore for who I am. I'm going to rebound to you, Katsu."
Bakugou stiffened at the proposal. He knew it was just a joke, but now he couldn't get the thought out of his head of actually being with Kirishima. Allowing his hand to grasp his. Placing a kiss on the boy's cheek. Waking up next to him in the morning. Was that his problem? He wanted what you had with Shitty Hair? Or did he want what Kirishima had with you?
"Like I'd ever date you!" Bakugou finally spat, after maybe a bit too long of a pause. "You're a dumbass idiot, just like your girlfriend. You two are perfect for each other!"
Both you and Kirishima blinked at Katsuki's outburst, turning to make eye contact.
"Thank . . . you?" you said, unsure if you should take it as a compliment.
You were both used to Bakugou being brash and loud, often yelling insults he probably didn't mean. But this was a bit unusual, even for him.
What is going on with you, Katsuki?
You sat back and made a little "pthbb" sound with your lips, taking the cuticle oil and starting to apply it to your own nails.
"So when are you going to go back to rubbing my back?" Eijirou asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Or is that only for Shrek?"
You snorted. "I love you, Eiji. I'd give you a kiss on the cheek to prove it, but you've got some artificial avocado there."
Bakugou's frown shifted a bit. At least the masks were good for one more thing.
"Where?" Eijirou teased, feeling at his face as though it wasn't slathered in a thick layer of green paste.
"Ha ha," you said dryly. "I'll go back to personal masseuse-ing after we wash these off."
"When's that?"
You leaned over and tapped at Bakugou's face, finding his still a little moist. "Five minutes," you wagered.
Eijirou started a conversation about training, lightheartedly arguing with Bakugou over one of his techniques.
You watched the nuances of how the two interacted. They'd been friends for so long, they just sort of flowed together and bounced off each other perfectly. Kirishima was clearly more physical, wrapping an arm around Bakugou's shoulders or touching him on his arm or his back. Bakugou never yelled about this like he would with probably anyone else, instead choosing to silently glower while Eijirou finished his thought.
Finally it was time for the masks to be washed off, the three of you crowding around the sink in your cramped bathroom. Eijirou helped you wipe yours away first with some damp paper towels, delighting in being so close to you and your beautiful face. Bakugou opted to simply wash his own off in the sink, splashing cold water over his cheeks. He watched the little green flakes and chunks swirl down into the drain, some of them catching stubbornly on the porcelain surface.
He straightened and looked at his newly washed face in the mirror. He didn't look or feel any different, sans the fuzzy pink bear ears that still wrapped around his forehead. Bakugou tugged them off, stepping away from the sink so Kirishima could take his own turn in washing.
The blond watched the both of you finish up, Eijirou rubbing gently at his face while you patted toner into yours. There was something so mundane about it, even in your tight closet of a toilet space. He liked the little smile you took on as you gently slapped liquid onto your cheeks, and how Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut and gave little shakes of his head to escape from the rivulets of water streaming over his features.
Kirishima stood back up, taking a look at himself in the mirror much like Bakugou had done moments before. "Wait a minute—I still have acne!" He leaned in and closer examined a small cluster of raised bumps.
"Of course you do, ya goof," you said, snickering and setting down your bottle of toner. "It's just a clay mask. If you want magic, use calamine lotion overnight. That should do the trick."
"Why didn't we do that instead?"
"Because these are more fun. And a lot shorter."
Eijirou shrugged and pulled his own headband off, soft red bangs falling over his eyes. Katsuki took a second to admire it. What would it feel like under his fingertips? He wondered for a brief moment how soft it truly was before he ripped his eyes away again. No. No. NO.
"So are you going to rub my back again?" Eijirou asked, puppy-dog eyes shining at you hopefully.
"Maybe later," you said, sliding your headband over your head and undoing your hair. "Right now it's Katsuki's turn. And mine, if it's not too much trouble."
Kirishima sighed tragically, slumping forward. You grinned and went up behind him, rolling the pads of your thumbs into his shoulder blades. He tilted his head back, sighing and closing his eyes at the feeling.
"Babyyy," he said, drawing out the last syllable. "Don't tease me like that."
You giggled and kissed his shoulder. "I'll get back to you soon enough, just be patient."
Bakugou watched the two of you yet again. He had a strange feeling like this was more complicated for him than it should be. Why couldn't he just pick one of you to hate more than the other and move on? Why couldn't he decide which one of you he would rather be in your situation?
"Yo, Katsu," you said to him, bringing him out of his own head. "Get over here." You had sat yourself back down on the floor in the middle of your room, and Kirishima was stationed behind you.
Bakugou walked over and flopped down in front of you, unsure of what to expect.
"Lay down perpendicular to me," you said, tapping his shoulder.
"What? Why?"
"You'll relax more. Do it."
The blond grumbled a bit more before turning himself and laying down on his stomach. "Happy, dumbass?"
"Indeed." You began to work at his shoulders through the barrier of his shirt. Behind you, your boyfriend did the same, running his large hands over the muscles on your back. "How often do you get this done?" you asked the boy under you.
"What? A massage?" Bakugou was really trying to ignore how good your fingers felt on him, pushing and applying pressure in places he didn't even know he needed.
"Yeah."
"Never," he admitted.
"Wait, what?" Eijirou said from behind you.
"Yeah, how?" you asked, stilling your hands. Bakugou resisted the temptation to squirm under you to get you to resume what you had been doing. "That can't be good what with all the training you do."
"I have those foam rollers," he said. "They work just fine."
"Aw, come on," Kirishima said. Bakugou was glad his face was more or less planted on the floor so he wouldn't have to look up at him. "It feels so much better when you have someone else do it for you."
"Tch."
"Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki," you tsked, going back to your motions on him.
The blond quietly sighed through his nose, allowing himself for a moment to sink into the feeling of your fingers dancing over his muscles. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, it felt really nice. He was surprised at how skilled you were, alternating between your thumbs and your knuckles to provide the most pressure, working out tension as you went along. Your hands, which were so small compared to his and his friend's.
Maybe he was starting to like this a little too much.
You and Eijirou had picked up another conversation about nothing. Bakugou was more than content to zone in and out of it, picking up on your even voices. He listened to the little breathy sighs you'd let escape as the redhead pushed into your back much like you were doing to Katsuki. They were almost too cute, and the more he was left in his own mind, the less comfortable he became.
He began to shuffle under you, a part of him wanting to get up and leave, another willing for him to stay.
"You comfortable, Bakugou?" you asked him. "Want a pillow or something?"
The way you'd said his family name; Bakugou. He was an outsider. He shouldn't be here. He pushed himself up from the floor and out from under your hands.
"Woah," Kirishima said. "Where you going, man?"
"I need to leave." Bakugou rammed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to your door.
"Wait, are you okay?" you asked, moving to get up too. "Did I do something wrong?"
Bakugou ignored you, adjusting his black t-shirt as he flung your door open and shut behind him.
You slumped back into Eijirou in defeat. "What is going on with him?" you lamented, eyes glued to the closed door.
Your boyfriend rested his chin on the top of your head, pondering as you pressed into him. "I have no idea. He's been acting weird for a while . . . . Could it be something going on at home?"
Your eyebrows scrunched a bit in thought. "I don't know about that. Do you think it could be us?"
Kiri shifted himself so he could lean in and look at your face inquisitively. "What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know," you shrugged. "It's just that . . . you and I are together and he's . . . alone. I mean, we're still friends, but he might feel . . . left out."
"Ohhh." Kirishima sat back again, pulling you further into his chest. "What should we do?"
You sighed, curling up against his bare skin. "I don't know."
...
Bakugou sat, finally alone in his room. What was happening? What was going on? What was wrong with him?
He hated this, these new feelings. The jealousy he felt whenever you and Kirishima were close and he was left to the side. He wanted to join you, feeling your arms wrapped around him and Eijirou's kiss on his cheek.
But he would never be able to.
Surely, you both would hate him if he said anything. You'd think he was just being sad and greedy, maybe even a creep. It would completely destroy your relationship with him, and he'd lose the two best friends he'd ever had.
Katsuki's bed dipped beneath him as he sat down onto it, placing his head in his hands. Infinite loops of yes and no spiraled forever around in his brain, willing him to just do something.
But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do. He'd have to choose either parting ways with you both or just feeling this way . . . forever. He was tired of it already. He wanted the feelings to go away. He wanted to stop hurting like this and being so confused. His rational mind told him to just turn and leave. It made sense. He'd be able to focus fully on his ambitions and become the best hero ever. And yet a tiny, stubborn little part of him knew, just knew that he wouldn't be able to go. There was something between the three of you, and even the tsundere-lord Bakugou Katsuki couldn't ignore it.
He laid back on his bed, closing his eyes. In the dark, he listened. But this time there was no sound. His mind wouldn't rest however, racing and screaming and hurting. It would be hard, but Bakugou would have to do it.
This would all just have to be his big secret.
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Author's Note:
No happy ending?? Well guess what, this is a three parter. The epilogue/sequel/part three will be purely Kiribaku(+you) fluff, so get ready for that. I know I am!! Also remember Little Secret exists. CUDDLES!! and TICKLES!! YES!
Thanks for reading,
-Sugar