Chapter Text
Bakugo shrugged one arm through his dark green flannel shirt. He casually slid his other arm through the adjacent sleeve, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. The thick cotton material immediately stuck to every part of his freshly showered and still sweaty skin. He made a mental note to adjust the agency’s thermostat and send a request to maintenance. The locker room felt like a damn furnace. It was the middle of winter, but still, there was no reason for it to feel like the building was sitting right outside the gates of hell.
His palms were sweaty and his heart was racing. It had been a normal patrol; nothing major happened. Shitty Hair had even handled the one measly purse thief that was too drunk to realize what part of town they were in. Yet, he couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.
Why am I so worked up? He thought.
He stole a quick glance over at Kirishima next to him, stripped down to his jeans and nothing else. Left over droplets of water from his shower ran down his neck and exposed chest, slowly gliding over each muscle. Bakugo's heart hammered painfully against his ribs. He coughed, feebly trying to cage the hummingbird threatening to escape his chest.
“Here.” He fished an ordinary bronze key out of his pocket and held it in his palm.
Kirishima’s eyes widened as he froze in place, confused and unsure of what to do.
“Um, I mean…” He gulped painfully, completely at a loss for words. Finally, he stammered, “ Wha… What's that?”
“A key, dumbass.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes. “I know, but for what?”
He turned towards his locker and slammed the key between the two of them on the worn wooden bench. He started buttoning his shirt, silently cursing himself for not bringing a t-shirt instead of this claustrophobic monstrosity to wear instead. He only wore the damn thing at all because it was a Christmas gift from Kirishima. He had looked so nervous when Bakugo was opening the wrapping. "I thought it would look good on you!" He had exclaimed nervously when Bakugo didn't react quickly enough after opening the present.
I'm so fucked. He thought to himself, because even though he was mildly allergic to the itchy fabric, he would wear the damn thing any chance he could because Kirishima had bought it for him.
“Oi! Don't make a big deal about it!” Bakugo scoffed. “That shithole you live in with Denks and Mindfuck is disgusting.” He hesitated for a moment. Taking in a deep breath, he lamented, “You'd have your own room. Be closer to work.”
The implications of what Bakugo was implying finally clicked in Kirishima’s head.
“Oh. Oh!” Kirishima reached his hand down slowly, searching for the bench. He swallowed thickly, using his sweaty grip on the bench to guide himself down.
His mind started spiraling. Sure, they had casually mentioned sharing an apartment before when they first opened their agency together, but nothing ever came of it. Bakugo was better off, already being the number two top hero. He also already had his own loft near the agency. Kirishima was number ten and made good money in his own right, but he insisted on putting up his equal share of the cost. Living with Kaminari and Shinsou was practical and cheaper.
Staring at the key, he started panicking. Things were moving too fast. There were moments over the last few months that Eijirou tried not to read into too much, but it was difficult. It started out as something simple. Bakugo accidentally made too much food for lunch one day, so he brought two bentos instead of one. That was three months ago and he's brought two bentos every day since. Two months ago, Bakugo sprained his knee during patrol, so Kirishima walked him home. He's walked to Bakugo’s place after every shift since that evening before taking the train home.
They were listed as each other's emergency contacts.
When working out, Kirishima would catch Bakugo staring at him, his brow furrowed and eyes lidded with a deep, unreadable expression. When Bakugo caught him staring in the locker room, he would smirk with a mischievous glint in his eye before looking away, graciously giving Kirishima a chance to tear his eyes away and make up a pitiful excuse for being caught.
One night, about a month ago, they went out for drinks after a particularly grueling shift. The memories are still hazy, but according to Denki and Toshi, Kirishima became very handsy with Bakugo. The only thing he remembers clearly is waking up in Bakugo’s bed, naked. He had no recollection of the events of that night. Did they sleep together or did they sleep together? The next morning, they ate breakfast in silence and went about their day, as if nothing had happened.
“Shitty Hair?”
“Red?”
“Kirishima?!”
Bakugo’s shouting pulled Kirishima out of his thoughts.
“You want to or not?”
“Um…” Kirishima muttered nervously. He fumbled with the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head without a shred of grace. He shimmied into his black stretch t-shirt, wishing he had just brought a hoodie to wear instead.
Get it together! He thought to himself. You aren't even dating! He's your best friend! This is what you want! Sure, it's a little more complicated now, but you can do this.
“Yeah. Um, I mean, yes! Thank you, Bakugo!” Kirishima smiled a toothy grin. “If you're sure?”
“I wouldn't have offered it if I wasn't sure.” Bakugo lowered his voice and averted his eyes. “It'll be good to have you around or whatever.”
Kirishima’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He smiled brightly. “Then it's settled. We're off the next two days, if I managed to make the schedule right this time.” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his spiky hair. “I'll move in first thing tomorrow.”
Bakugo nodded. He peered down at his watch. “I've got to go.”
“Oh, okay man.” Kirishima said, standing from the bench. “Just let me grab my jacket.”
“No!” Bakugo snapped tersely. He instantly felt guilty at the sight of Kirishima’s hurt expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “I'm not going home. I need to finish up some paperwork for the new support wing we added. I...” He huffed, making a split second decision and hoping he didn't regret it. "I forgot to send in some of the plan design forms and permits that you gave me last week."
“Oh.” Kirishima stammered out dumbly. It was very uncharacteristic for Bakugo to forget something so important. “Well, if you're sure? I don't mind to help. It is our agency after all."
"Go home. No need to stay because of my fuck up." Bakugo grunted, slammed his locker shut, and left without another word.
Kirishima watched him stomp off. What the hell just happened? He grabbed his bag and keys.
Yeah. He thought. This pace is fine.