I just wanna take a minute and thank you all for your wonderful comments and feedback on this fic so far :') It's definitely not my best writing but I'm having fun with such a light plot since I'm usually writing really angsty stuff (some of which is coming your way soonishly, heh) and so far it's been really well received and I'm super happy about that. ♥ I appreciate all of you!!

And ack, 4K reads already?! That means so much to me ToT ♥♥

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Bakugou

"By the way, your father and I will be coming to visit this Saturday sometime in the afternoon."

"...what?!"

"I love you and we'll see you then. Bye, Katsuki!"

The line went dead before Bakugou could get another word in, and it took every last ounce of self control he had not to yank the phone away from his face and smash the 'call back' button because he damn well knew that bitch wasn't going to answer if he called again, and he'd sure as fuck get an earful if he bugged her about it.

No wonder she fucking called, he thought bitterly. She doesn't call unless she's gonna drop some shitty bomb on me like that.

Usually his mom stuck to text message to check up on him because of her busy schedule, and he knew she kept tabs on him through that asshat Aizawa because of course she didn't trust him to tell the truth—or at least not the whole truth. And she was right not to, because he was notorious for keeping shit from her, like the fact that he'd been reassigned dorm rooms (which she knew through that damn principal, of course) and now that he was actually friends with the bright ball of fucking sunshine he shared a room with (which she incidentally didn't know through Aizawa, at least not yet).

So he was more than a little suspicious when his phone lit up with an incoming call and he'd let it ring for a minute before hesitantly tapping the green answer icon. At first it seemed like any normal check up, but Bakugou knew better and remained skeptical for the entire conversation (in which he'd been half-assing all of his answers to her shitty bombardment of questions), and rightfully so, seeing as she'd dropped that bomb on him without any damn warning.

As a result, the blonde found himself in a bitter mood for the remainder of the week in anticipation of seeing his parents. It wasn't that he had a bad relationship with them or was adamantly against seeing them, but wasn't part of the point of this whole shitty boarding school situation for him to gain some damn independence and act right on his own without them checking up? Plus there was not a single damn doubt in his mind they wouldn't find some ridiculous way to embarrass him. They were his parents for fuck's sake.

His grumpier-than-usual attitude had everyone who already avoided him avoiding him more, and those who didn't usually had started to. It got to the point that as soon as he'd showed up for lunch (late, as usual), Deku and his stupid group of nerds had gotten up the second they saw him coming and made a bullshit excuse to leave, and he knew better than to think their excuse wasn't just that and that they really had somewhere to be.

So he'd ended up with Dumb Hair and his group of nerds—who he, admittedly, was starting to like better than Half-and-Half, Pink Cheeks, and Frog Girl anyway. Those losers welcomed him with open arms, of course, but were quick to pick up on his bitterness. But while he knew he wouldn't (and hadn't made an effort to) tone down such an attitude around Deku, he found himself trying to suppress it while with Kirishima's idiots like he actually fucking cared what they thought.

That didn't mean it got past them, though, especially not Dumb Hair himself. Friday afternoon when he showed up to the dorm room after his weekly visit with Aizawa (who'd kept him after the eighth period dismissal bell, of course, because this week was just being so kind to Bakugou) and dumped his shit on his bed, carelessly kicking his shoes off into the corner, Kirishima finally asked him about it.

"Yo, what's been up with you lately, man?"

Even though Kirishima's tone of voice was calm—soft, even—and he clearly didn't mean the question out of any sort of spite, a prick of annoyance surfaced as Bakugou flopped onto his bed.

"What's it matter to you?" he muttered.

"I'm just kinda worried is all," the redhead told him. "I'm not trying to be nosy or anything."

"Worried?" The fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Yeah, like, did something happen?"

Impulsively Bakugou sat up, turned to face the other, and crossed his legs. "Nope. Not yet, anyway," he sighed, running a hand sloppily through his hair for probably the millionth time that week.

"Huh?"

"My shitty parents are coming to fucking 'visit' me this weekend like I'm some kind of baby," he grumbled.

Kirishima perked up a little. "Really? That's why you've been in such a bad mood?" he asked.

"I haven't been in a bad mood," Bakugou snapped immediately.

"But how come you're not happy about them coming?" Dumb Hair went on. "I know I'd be pretty happy if my parents were gonna visit."

"'Cause part of the reason I came to this shitty boarding school is to gain independence, so what's the freaking point if my damn parents come check up on me like I'm a damn baby?"

The redhead shrugged. "Probably because they care, man. And hey, don't take this the wrong way, but it's probably because you tend to get into trouble that they wanna check up on you a little more than they normally would, y'know?"

"I haven't gotten into any trouble since the dumb school year started," grumbled Bakugou.

"See? So then you can tell 'em that and they'll see you're serious about graduating. They'll probably be proud."

"Hmph. You say that like you know them."

That classic smile spread across Dumb Hair's face, squishing up his dumb, soft cheeks. "They're parents. Most of 'em think like that."

"Whatever." As he uttered the word, Bakugou laid back down, swiping his stress ball from his bedside table. He started his normal, mindless routine of throwing and catching it while Kirishima dove into a textbook.

Would his shitty parents be proud? It was hard to say; as far as he could remember, they'd never really expressed pride in him at all in the past. It was always scolding and punishing for getting into more trouble or asking him to do chores, and then more punishing when he didn't. Hell, this whole shitty boarding school situation was just one big punishment for all the shit he'd gotten into at his previous school. He'd hardly listened when his dad had practically chewed his fucking ear off, but he did remember the words 'the last fucking straw' coming from both of his parents.

He knew they loved him—it wasn't like they were bad parents. They gave him what he needed and, more often than not, what he wanted. In the midst of all of his groundings and extra chores they'd made him do as some of those half-assed, unoriginal punishments, one or the other of them would talk to him—or at least try to.

"Why is it you act up so much, Katsuki?" "Is everything okay?" "Is there some other reason I should be worried?"

It had been him who'd shut them out. But even to him, his reasoning for it was unknown. It was just how he was. It was in his nature, and he knew he couldn't blame anyone else for his own shitty actions. He knew it was his fault that he ended up in this crappy school that... turned not to be quite as shitty as he'd expected. He met Dumb Hair at least...

And that was when it dawned on him that he should've told Kirishima about his damn parents coming in the first place. His head swiveled in the redhead's direction.

"By the way," he said, grabbing the other's attention. "They're probably gonna wanna meet you."

There was no mistaking it when Kirishima's eyes widened fractionally for just a second. "Um... right, yeah. That makes sense," he said.

"What, you nervous or someshit?" Bakugou turned his attention back to his stress ball, his teeth catching on one of the rings in his lip in a fidgety manner.

"Should I be?"

"No fuckin' clue."

"...huh?"

"My parents are nosy as shit when it comes to checking up on me and all that," sighed the blonde. "So if anyone should be nervous it's me, since they're probably gonna be asking you shit about me like Aizawa does."

"Right..." Kirishima mumbled. "Does Aizawa tell you what I say about you?"

Bakugou turned his head again just as the ball snapped back into his hand. "Some. Why, you sayin' shit about me?"

Kirishima continued to fidget with his pencil as he had been when Bakugou looked over. "Nah, of course not. Besides, if I had issues with you I'd tell you, not rat you out to the principal," he said. "Or your parents," he tacked on.

"...good to know, I guess."

There was a long beat of silence where the only sound was Bakugou's ball snapping back into his hand after he'd tossed it up. Kirishima was the one to break it. "So are they coming tomorrow?"

"Yup. In the afternoon. So at least we'll have time to sleep in."

⚜️

Sleeping in didn't happen, which fucking figured. Dumb Hair woke Bakugou up just after 9-freaking-AM, sleepily mumbling at him something about his phone 'ringing non stop.' He rolled over to find six missed calls, all from his mom, filling up the notification space on his screen.

"Are you fucking kidding me..." he muttered, forcing himself to sit up as he tried rubbing the blurriness out of his sleepy eyes.

"Sorry, man," Kirishima said. "It woke me up. Figured I'd let you know..." His words petered out into a yawn that Bakugou inadvertently mirrored as he tapped the 'call back' button.

"Finally you answer your damn phone," his mom answered halfway through the first ring. "Get your ass out of bed and meet us in the front office."

"You said afternoon," he pressed.

"Surprise! Hurry it up. I brought brownies."

"Fuck you."

"And get your shitty attitude in order while you're getting dressed!"

Before Bakugou had the slightest chance to retaliate, the damn hag hung up. He practically threw his phone back on the table before sitting up only to look up in the midst of running a frustrated hand through his hair and into a pair of wide bright red eyes.

"What?" he snapped.

"Dude," Kirishima mumbled, suddenly much more awake than he'd been two seconds ago. "Did you just say 'fuck you' to your mom?"

"Did it fucking sound like I did?" Bakugou huffed sarcastically. "'S not a big deal, so don't make it one." He kicked his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

"...wow. I've never met somebody who talks to their mom that way."

"Now you have," muttered Bakugou as he shook out his hoodie and tugged it over his head.

"Right..." Slight apprehension coated Kirishima's tone. He plopped back down onto his bed, continuing, "So um, d'you want me to come with you?"

"Don't care. If I was you I'd take advantage of going the fuck back to sleep, though."

"But you said they'd want to meet me, right?"

"Yeah." Bakugou stuffed his feet into his shoes and ran his hands through his hair a couple more times. He considered taking a second to do his eyeliner; he hated being where other people could see him without it (the only one who had was Kirishima for inevitable reasons), but if he was too damn lazy to get dressed properly, he was too lazy for the makeup. "But they'll probably be here most of the damn day, so you can do that later."

Kirishima shrugged. "I'm already up. Might as well do it now."

"Suit yourself, Weird Hair."

While Bakugou remained in his pajamas, Dumb Hair went as far to at least put on a pair of jeans and a hoodie he hadn't just yanked off the floor, unlike Bakugou himself. But he didn't give a fuck about looking so rough to see his parents, and he already had about a dozen comebacks for when his mom inevitably scolded him about not getting 'properly' dressed. It was fucking Saturday morning. She could kiss his ass.

Bakugou purposely dragged his feet all the way to the damn school building as Kirishima walked along beside him, saying nothing. For once, the fucker didn't have even a slight shadow of his usual smile on his face; in fact, he sported a damn crease between those small eyebrows of his and his hands remained in the pockets of his hoodie instead of swinging along at his sides.

"Dude," Bakugou muttered. "They're just parents. Don't freak out about it."

"I'm not!" Dumb Hair defended quickly. "I just wanna make a good impression, y'know?"

"Does it fucking matter?"

Kirishima's head turned to meet Bakugou's gaze. "Shouldn't it? Especially since you said they're probably gonna ask me about you."

"Yeah, but that's shit on me, not you."

"I know, but we're friends now. It would seriously suck if you had to leave for some reason."

Bakugou had no response to that. This shit was a first for him—nobody ever gave a fuck if he stayed or went anywhere, except maybe Deku, and even that was a long ass time ago—long before he started getting into all sorts of trouble and shit. Ever since, people tended to avoid him. And he liked it that way. Kirishima was just... a weird exception. For some reason. Whatever.

Kirishima

An unfamiliar woman's voice greeted them as they entered the main office in the school building, and Kirishima felt himself stiffen uneasily at the sound of it. His nerves were seriously on edge, knowing what he was walking into, as well as having been inevitably overthinking what Kaminari had told him all week.

"Ah, there he is! I was just about to head straight to his room and kick his ass out of bed myself!"

Bakugou was quick to react. "It's not my fucking fault you assholes decided to show up at the asscrack of dawn on a Saturday," he grumbled as they approached the small lounge area in the corner where three people sat—two of which Kirishima could only assume were Bakugou's parents, the other Mr. Aizawa.

"Dawn was three hours ago," the woman told him with a dismissive wave of her hand as she stood up. "But I suppose it makes sense that you don't even know what it looks like because you're never up early enough."

"...whatever," muttered Bakugou as he reluctantly—and stiffly—accepted the squeeze of a hug given to him by his mother, someone who he was almost quite literally the freaking spitting image of! Seriously, if Kirishima didn't know better he'd say she was his sister; she looked impossibly young; she was only an inch or so shorter than him, but her eyes and hair were the exact same color as Bakugou's, as well as the way she held herself and the almost... cocky state of her features. Kirishima wasn't usually one to describe women with such a word, but he couldn't help it. And, though she wasn't quite as much as her son—or so Kirishima thought—she was insanely beautiful.

"Well it's good to see you, too, Katsuki," she responded sarcastically, planting a fist on her hip. Shit, she even kind of had the same attitude as Bakugou.

"Hon, you know our son isn't a morning person," a man's high-pitched and somewhat rough voice said from behind them; the two blondes parted just enough for Kirishima to get a look at Bakugou's dad who... resembled him in a much subtler way. The bone structure was what was similar there, as well as the ivory shade of his skin and the unruly state of his hair. In contrast, his hair was several shades darker and his eyes were a soft brown. His eyes were much rounder and his features a lot softer despite the stubble across his upper lip and along his jaw. The height, though, was definitely shared with his son, and Kirishima could see that just by seeing him sitting down.

"Yes, and we have you to blame for that, Masaru," the woman said.

Masaru sighed, running a hand across his slightly wrinkled forehead. If Kirishima had to guess, his wife and his son were the likely causes for those wrinkles, and part of him couldn't help smiling just a bit in knowing that.

It was if that small smile was like a sudden magnet for attention, because suddenly the woman's attention was on him. Immediately he felt himself stiffen a bit and hoped to god it wasn't visible. She gave him a smile that was... pleasant enough, but with her sharp red eyes it was hard to understand its true purpose.

"Who's this, Katsuki?" she asked.

"He's my roommate, Kirishima," Bakugou told her without mumbling for the first time since being woken up. "He came since I figured you'd wanna be nosy as fuck like normal and meet him."

"He's the friend I told you about this morning," Aizawa added.

The woman went on as if her son wasn't essentially insulting her. "Oh, yes! For once you were thinking about somebody other than yourself, Katsuki," she said. Before Kirishima could even think about reacting to that or even wonder if she was really just joking, she stuck her hand right in his direction. "It's nice to meet you, Kirishima. I'm Bakugou Mitsuki."

Kirishima found his smile again, even if it was a little forced. "Yeah, 's nice to meet you too, ma'am!" he said in a voice he immediately thought to be a little too cheery as he shook her hand. "Kirishima Eijirou," he told her. It had felt weird when Bakugou hadn't told her his given name, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was wondering if his roommate even remembered it.

Everyone around him seemed unfazed by his chipper attitude, and he managed to remain outwardly normal when greeted by Masaru—who, he noted, had a gentler grip than his wife.

"We were just hearing from Aizawa that you actually seem to be getting along fairly well with Katsuki," Mitsuki said with that same grin as before. "I'm impressed."

"That so?" Kirishima asked, absently rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Katsuki's not all that great at making friends—"

"The fuck's that s'posed to mean?!" Bakugou hissed from behind her, his hands clenched into fists.

Mitsuki promptly ignored him. "He's pretty rough around the edges, to put it lightly, and people tend to get turned off by him within just a few minutes. I can't say I was surprised when I heard he was moving rooms. Really, I thought he was over the whole death threat, thing—"

"Okay, okay! I think we get the point, Mitsuki," Masaru cut in. "Spare the boy, hon." Kirishima was just opening his mouth to tell them it was perfectly okay—if anybody knew how Bakugou could be, it was him after living with him for two months—but when Masaru continued it was made clear that he'd been talking about Bakugou, not Kirishima himself. "He's been doing really well since he was reassigned. Cut him some slack and don't embarrass him."

"'M not fucking embarrassed," Bakugou spat. "Kirishima already gets it, so 's not like you're not tellin' him shit he doesn't already know."

Mitsuki's brows lifted. "Yeah? Has it been awful living with him?"

Kirishima blinked at her for a second, taken aback by the bluntness of the question. "Uhm... no, not at all," he said. "Actually, I'm glad I do 'cause it was super lonely before when I didn't have a roommate, and it's super cool that I got to make a friend."

Mitsuki's smile vanished in an instant, quickly replaced with a completely transparent look of surprise. "I'll be damned," she said. "I was prepared to thank you for putting up with him, but it looks like you've been doing more than that." Just like that, the smile returned. "Well shoot, I'm glad Katsuki's got a friend, especially with how much of a pain he can be. Good to know."

"You're the one who's a pain, old hag," Bakugou grumbled under his breath, and Kirishima knew he wouldn't have heard it had Bakugou not been standing right next to him. Mitsuki, on the other hand, either didn't hear him at all or pretended not to as she turned around and retrieved a small square pan covered in aluminum foil.

"These are for you as a reward for doing so well this far, but don't eat them all in one sitting," she told her son pointedly. "And yes, they're fudge."

For the first time that morning, Bakugou's scowl faded and he took the pan, mumbling a "fuck yeah." He didn't thank her, but her satisfied expression told Kirishima that the little glint of happiness in his eyes was gratitude enough.

Despite being told he could go, Kirishima elected to hang out for a bit while the four of them talked. Bakugou's family was... interesting, to say the least, and since his nerves had calmed he found he wanted to get to know them better (but whether that was only because Bakugou was his friend or also because of his growing crush on him, he couldn't decide for sure). It turned out that the way Bakugou spoke to his mom—and his dad, though not as badly—really was normal, and it was normal for her to talk right back, almost like they truly were siblings who were just bickering. It was weird, but up until the moment Kirishima did break off when Mitsuki announced they had plans to take Bakugou out to lunch with them off campus, he held a bubble of giddy amusement in his chest, and his smile held all the way to Kaminari's room.