Shuddering breaths escaped him as Kirishima bolted upright, mind full of terror and trepidation, the shadows retreating slightly but still there, haunting him. The feeling was so intense that Kirishima felt like his duvet was suffocating him, enclosing him in a space he couldn't escape, squeezing him like a cobra, so he thrashed about, desperately trying to free him limbs. Barely aware of the river of tears flowing down his face, Kirishima ripped his arm out, then the rest of his body. Unable to breathe, even in his drowsy, nightmare-induced state he lunged for the window, but when his foot hit the ground it sunk into something soft, softer than he had been anticipating.

The thing beneath his foot groan and Kirishima leapt backwards with a cry, imagining the horrors that it could be. It rose, rubbing it's chest with an angry look on it's face. Kirishima was paralysed with fear, his body rigid. He wanted to activate his Quirk, protect himself but it was pointless - his brain wasn't listening to him.

"What the actual fuck, Kirishima?" the thing snapped vexingly, stepping forwards. "It's, like, 4 in the fucking morn-"

It stopped suddenly, and Kirishima took a look at the thing's face. It was familiar, but also not, the mouth wrong and the eyebrows wrong and they weren't infuriated. Kirishima's breaths were shallow, on the verge of a panic attack, and when the person took another step forwards, their whole face was illuminated by the dim moonlight shining through the window. 

It was Bakugo.

"Kirishima, what the fuck-" But he didn't get to finish his sentence because in that moment, Kirishima's body came back under his control, recognising that no physical danger was around and he collapsed into Bakugo's arms, not understanding that this was not what brave, strong, manly Kirishima would do.

But right here, right now, Kirishima wasn't wearing his mask. He was exposed, raw and open, and for this short time he didn't care.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was stiff, bolt upright as his arms hung limply at his sides, feeling Kirishima sob against his chest as the red-head gripped him tighter. There was an odd feeling in his sternum - no his heart - as he felt Kirishima nuzzle into his closer, clearly craving some sort of human contact, so against his better judgement, against every part of his mind screaming no! he brought his arms up, hesitantly resting one around his shoulders and neck and wrapping the other around his waist. It felt so, so intimate, and Bakugo felt the teen sag slightly, his knees giving out with the amount of effort he was putting into crying, so Bakugo pulled him up, arms still around Kirishima and Kirishima's arms still around him, and moved over to the bed, manoeuvring Kirishima so that they were sitting beside each other, the traumatised boy twisted to retain his hug.

It must have been at least half an hour before Kirishima's bawls turned to whimpers, the noises continuing even when it was obvious he was asleep. Even though Kirishima was asleep, even though Bakugo was no longer needed, he didn't want to move. 

Maybe it was the way Kirishima's body perfectly fitted into his, the dip of their chests slotting seamlessly together, or perhaps it was the pounding of Bakugo's heart, threatening that it would burst right out if he were to move. Bakugo didn't usually adhere to threats, so it was probably Bakugo's mind, telling him that this was where he needed to be, right now.

Eventually Bakugo followed suit, falling sideways as he succumbed to sleep.

The sunlight was creeping through the windows when he woke. There was the muffled sound of birdsongs, and the sweet, familiar smell of caramel greeted Kirishima's nose, oddly much more potent than usual. He groaned and mumbled something unintelligible, even to himself, and stretched.

Well, at least he tried to. Instead, one arm felt trapped between something soft and something strong and heavy, and his other was confined by something less heavy, but just as tight. His eyes snapped open, feeling puffy and swollen and slightly sore, and his gaze was met by the sharp, pale, undeniable jawline of Bakugo Katsuki.

Now, usually Kirishima would have freaked out, tried to escape and apologise immediately, laughing it off. As it was, there was something so...comforting, about his presence and his scent, and some part of Kirishima's mind that managed to convince him that it was fine, it was okay.

Then the events of last night - or early this morning- came flooding back, and Kirishima started, his body jerking upright in shock as he pulled away from the blond. Or, at least, tried to. Bakugo's arms instantly tightened around Kirishima, trapping him even closer against his chest. Kirishima felt light-headed, his mind whirling as he panted slightly, calming his racing heart. 

It's fine, he told himself firmly, sinking back down. It's just Bakugo.

So he lay there for a while longer, relishing in the embrace. Kirishima found his gaze wandering to Bakugo's face, marvelling at how serene he looked. Even when he was distracted, Bakugo somehow managed to have a perpetual look of irritation smeared across his features, yet as he slept there was a calm sort of peacefulness to his expression. Kirishima wondered if this was Bakugo looked like when his walls came down.

The blaring of his alarm, the tinny sound fainter than usual, snapped Kirishima out of his reverie, and he craned his neck to look for the alarm clock. When he couldn't see it on his nightstand he frowned.

"Bakugo," Kirishima tried, arching his back to free himself to no avail. The blond only grumbled something. "Bakugo, wake up."

Letting loose a particularly hard shove with his forearms, Kirishima glanced up only to see two burning orbs searing a mark into his face. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I - ugh - I need to get up?" The statement came out as more of a question, yet it still got through to Bakugo, because a look came over his face that clearly displayed to Kirishima that he hadn't recognised how they were sitting. Bakugo jerked his arms back, snapping his body upwards so he was sitting on the mattress, glaring at Kirishima.

They stayed like that for a moment, encased in awkward silence, until Kirishima felt the blush seeping into his cheeks and he quickly got up to hide it, disguising the reason with the goal to find his alarm clock. He got off the bed and knelt down, hearing the creaking that told Kirishima that Bakugo was getting off the mattress, probably to get ready. It took him a solid three minutes to spot the glowing red light of the digital screen, hidden down the back of his bedside table. The blush intensified when Kirishima realised he must have knocked it over in his hurry to open a window this morning.

The overly-loud slamming of Kirishima's dorm room door signified that Bakugo had left, and Kirishima let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. A sinking feeling in his chest accompanied Kirishima's many, many thoughts.

Bakugo will think I'm so weak now, he despaired as he stood up, gingerly placing the box on the surface it was meant to reside on as he went about getting ready. How can I face him? What if he tells everyone? He gelled his with shaking hands, noticing how the strands were a little more lopsided than usual but deciding it was presentable. 

No, it's Bakugo, he wouldn't tell. But he probably won't want to talk to me anymore. After all, how many times has he said he doesn't want to associate himself with losers?

Dressing up in his uniform, Kirishima stuck a smile on his face and strolled out of the door, making sure to collect his bag and books before he left.

The day was spent dodging Bakugo at every opportunity, yet simultaneously keeping a close eye on him. His stomach dropped every time he saw someone get close to Bakugo, fearing he the blond would pull them aside and whisper something in their ear, all the while holding eye contact with Kirishima.

Of course, that didn't happen, not once. Bakugo spoke to no one, and no one spoke to Bakugo. For a while, Kirishima was confused, thinking surely someone would talk to him, but as the ay went on it occurred to Kirishima that he was the only one who spoke to Bakugo. And it made him upset to realise that. Guilty, too.

Kaminari, Sero and Mina picked up on Kirishima's behaviour - the side glances, obvious changes of direction and forced smile, and eventually Mina mentioned it.

"Okay, look, I'm just gonna say it," she blurted at lunch, dropping her cutlery and slamming her hands down on the table. Her fierce yellow irises were directed at Kirishima and they burned with passion and intrigue. "What the hell happened between you and Bakugo?"

Kirishima held her gaze. "What do you mean?" he said, keeping up the innocent charade. He didn't want to have to explain last night to anyone.

Exasperated, Mina threw her arms in the air. "You haven't said a word to him all day! Usually the first thing you do is try to spark up a conversation with him, even if he doesn't seem interested. Not to mention you keep giving him weird looks."

Kirishima leant back, crossing his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mina. Everything's fine!"

Mina scoffed, tilting her head. "Come on, Kirishima. You can tell us, we're your friends!" Kaminari and Sero nodded their heads

But you wouldn't be if you knew what I was really like. 

"Bakugo was just...grumpier than usual, this morning. I wanted to give him some space," he lied, scooping up a spoonful of rice and stuffing it in his mouth.

Mina hummed, shooting Sero a look that Kirishima missed as he blinked. Kaminari nudged him. "You sure, dude? You have seemed kinda down too, today."

Kirishima forced a laugh that he hoped didn't sound as fake as he thought it did. "Course! Maybe I'm a little tired, it's weird sleeping with someone else in the room."

The group dropped the matter after that, and Kirishima successfully steered clear of Bakugo for the rest of the day, dreading the time when he would have to go back to his room. Getting back to Alliance Heights after school, Kirishima spent as long as he could in the common room, catching up with his other classmates and groaning about school work and impending exams. 

Then, after dinner (which Bakugo didn't show up to) Kirishima dismissed himself, heading up to his room. The ride up the elevator and the walk down the hallway went far too quickly, even as Kirishima tried to pace himself. He stood outside his door for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Forcing himself to act as casual as possible, Kirishima turned the brass knob and pushed it open, strolling inside.

Bakugo was sitting on his futon, legs crossed under him as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He didn't even look up as Kirishima entered.

He probably hates me now.

"Hey, Bakugo!" Kirishima greeted, as if he hadn't been avoiding the teen all day. Bakugo simply grunted, and Kirishima felt a pressure lift off of his chest. A grunt from other people might be seen as a sign of annoyance, but from Bakugo it was simply one of acknowledgement. Kirishima could feel a grin form on his face as he dropped his school bag in the corner and collected his pyjamas. At least Bakugo wasn't overly mad at him.

Despite this, the silence around them was uncomfortable, even as Kirishima got changed in his en-suite. He emerged, neatly folding his clothes and placing them on the dresser. Before Kirishima could even turn around, however, he heard Bakugo speak.

"Are you...okay?"

"Huh?!" Kirishima found himself stuck to the ground, unable to turn. He didn't want to see the look on Bakugo's face, fearing that it would be mocking him.

"I asked if you were alright, Shitty Hair," Bakugo snapped, which sparked Kirishima to turn and face him. Bakugo did look annoyed, but it wasn't directed at Kirishima.

Kirishima nodded slowly, glad Bakugo had broken the silence. He moved past the blond, jumping up and onto his bed. "Yeah, just a nightmare," he sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. He let out a short laugh. "Honestly, bro, I thought you were gonna hate me."

Kirishima could hear the scowl in Bakugo's voice as he spoke. "Why the fuck would I hate you?" he said. "It's a nightmare, you can't fucking help it."

Kirishima clicked his tongue. "I suppose. Still, it wasn't very manly of me."

"Tch." Bakugo shifted, and Kirishima noticed him putting his phone on the floor and lying down out of the corner of his eye. "You worry too much about being manly or whatever, Shitty Hair."

Kirishima huffed. "It's important to me, bro!" When he didn't hear a response, he rolled onto his side. "Thanks, though," he added after a moments pause. "I promise it won't happen again."

Still, despite his words and the quiet, Kirishima couldn't silence the voice that wanted it to, even if it was just to feel Bakugo's arms around him once more.