i completely spaced updating yesterday, sorry! D:

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Bakugou

The shitty rain didn't let up for the rest of the afternoon, even if the thunder did. It felt like the whole fucking world was dumping buckets of shit all over him, and Bakugou was powerless to do anything about it. Because of fucking course he was; why would the universe give him a break? It wasn't like he fucking deserved it or anything.

But at least he still had Dumb Hair, who was not only warm when he leaned over and wrapped Bakugou up in those strong arms of his, but who was steady as a fucking rock and exactly what Bakugou needed. You know, since his parents were pieces of actual human garbage and all that.

Even so, he fucking hated showing weakness so he made sure there were no more ugly tears escaping his eyes when the car stopped and he had to sit up and reveal his face again. When he did, Kirishima gave him a soft smile.

"Ready to go in?" he asked.

"...yeah," Bakugou muttered.

They jogged up the walk through the cold rain and shook themselves off once they were finally inside where it was dry. They were in the midst of kicking off their shoes and Bakugou stripping off his wet, useless jacket when Kirishima's mom asked, "I don't suppose you have any clothes here do you, Bakugou?"

"Nah, but he fits into my stuff," Kirishima said.

"Okay. I'll go get a towel or two for you to dry off a bit."

"Hey, you wanna take a shower, maybe?" Kirishima offered as his mom disappeared upstairs.

Bakugou gave but a short nod in response. He let the other lead him upstairs in his mom's wake, who pressed a couple of stark white, floral-scented towels into his arms when they crossed paths with her outside the bathroom. He mumbled his thanks, she gave him a reassurance, and he escaped straight into the bathroom.

It was... weird, suddenly having her knowing everything. Or what he assumed to be everything. He was so used to hiding the whole thing, dancing around certain questions and coming up with bullshit lies about where they were or what they did together. While on one hand it was a relief, on the other he wished he could rewind by twenty-four hours and have no parents know shit about him and Kirishima.

"Go ahead and shower. I'll go get you something dry to wear, okay?"

"Yeah," Bakugou mumbled, dropping the towels onto the sink. The door clicked shut a second later, so he worked on peeling the nasty, wet clothes from his cold skin. He'd stripped down to just his boxers when he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, and damn did he look like a fucking mess. His eyeliner, left over from the previous fucking day, was smeared to hell around his eyes and down his cheeks from the rain, making it almost look like half of his face was bruised or someshit. His eyes themselves were bloodshot, seeing as he'd only gotten a few hours' sleep—and shitty sleep, at that. And to top it all off, his hair was a complete fucking disaster.

For some fucked up reason, that was all it took for the whole situation to slam him in the gut once again. All he could do to keep from having a fucking breakdown like a baby right then and there was sink down onto the toilet lid and lean over, pressing his face into his hands.

This was just what he was fucking afraid of—his parents learning about him and Kirishima being together one way or another and completely fucking hating him for liking—no, loving—another guy. Like it fucking mattered?! He was fucking happy with Kirishima, and weren't his parents supposed to love him unconditionally anyway?! On top of that, they liked Kirishima. Shouldn't they be happy he found such an amazing fucking person to want to be with, to probably spend the rest of his whole goddamn life with? Who the fuck cared what gender he was?!

Of course his parents did, though. No wonder they avoided the subject in the past; they always hated talking about shit they didn't agree with. Under the surface, he thought, Bakugou knew that. He had some sort of instinct inside of him warning him this would happen, and it was enough to keep him from telling them outright.

And yet he fucked up anyway. He disregarded their rules and stayed away from them, electing to spend as much time with his boyfriend as he could, and as a result they found out in a shitty way, anyway, which only made it that much worse.

Fuck, Bakugou hated the bitter flavor of regret! Hated the whole 'wishing he could go back in time and change things' bullshit! It was all in vain and he knew it, yet that longing was so strong it left his throat burning and his eyes stinging.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" a soft, familiar voice asked, cutting through the quiet air of the bathroom. Bakugou looked up to find Dumb Hair standing right inside the door, a bundle of folded clothes—pajamas, it looked like—resting on one arm. Bakugou must've been so deep in his shitty thoughts he hadn't even heard him come in, let alone knock.

"The fuck is there to talk about?" Bakugou grumbled, swiping a hand across his face. It came away blackened a bit with smeared eyeliner.

"Anything. Everything."

"...the hell does that mean?"

Kirishima used his back to push the door shut the rest of the way. "You can talk about whatever you want, Katsuki. Tell me whatever you have to get off your chest," he said, setting the clothes down on the free counter space. "I'm a good listener."

"Hmph. I know," Bakugou mumbled.

"Don't feel pressured though, okay? I can just go—"

"Don't you dare fuckin' leave," Bakugou hissed, which elicited a small, though rather sad, smile from his boyfriend.

"Okay. I'm here, then."

As quiet fell over again, Bakugou felt like a baby for not wanting to be alone, but it wasn't enough for him to change his mind and tell Kirishima to leave. At least they were alone, and Kirishima was the one person in the entire world he wasn't afraid to show at least a little weakness around.

"...I should've just come out and told them, huh?" he mumbled, raking a hand through his wet, tangled hair again, ignoring the painful tugging of tangles his fingers caught.

"I don't know," Kirishima murmured. "Maybe, but not if you weren't ready."

"I don't think I was ever gonna be ready. Not completely."

"That's fair. I don't think it much matters now, though, how they found out. Their opinion was already there, you know? Whether they found out this way or you told them upfront, I don't think it would've changed the outcome," Kirishima said lightly.

Bakugou huffed a laugh, one that lacked any actual amusement whatsoever. "Yeah, guess you're right. Fucking sucks, though, 'cause I keep thinking that it would've."

"I get ya. But there's no point in regretting it now, is there? I mean, what's done is done. All you can do is move forward."

"Hmph, leave it to you to get all philosophical or whatever," Bakugou mumbled.

Kirishima gave him a crooked smile, this one less sad—less pitiful—than before, thank fuck. Sad didn't suit Kirishima, not at all.

"Sorry if it's too early to ask but... do you think you're gonna go back? To talk to them, at least?"

Bakugou sat back, letting his head thud against the wall behind him. "Don't fucking know," he grumbled. "'M too damn pissed to want to look at their shitty faces right now."

Kirishima's response was to hum lightly. When Bakugou's eyes cut in his direction, he was simply leaning against the sink with his eyes cast down in thought.

"...you think I should talk to them, don't you?" Bakugou asked, sitting up again.

"I didn't say that."

"But you're thinking it."

Kirishima turned, meeting his eyes. "I think it's too soon, like I said, y'know? But... they are your parents. You say a lotta stuff about 'em but I know you love 'em and you don't want to lose them. The only way to get around this is talking it out."

Bakugou had to consciously force himself to relax his jaw. The mere thought of going back to that shithole of a house and talking to his disgusting homophobic parents made bile rise in his throat. Dumb Hair was right—it was too soon; he was still too hurt. Too pissed. If he went back there now, or even soon, there was no way it wouldn't end in an argument.

To his fortune, Kirishima changed the subject after that. "You don't have to, though. It's up to you, Katsuki. Right now I think you should just take a shower and then we'll get something to eat and throw on a movie or whatever, and then you can get some sleep. Like, some real sleep. I know you need it."

"Yeah," Bakugou mumbled in agreement. Sleep sounded fucking amazing, especially because now he'd get to do it next to Dumb Hair himself and not think about anything at all for a while.

"Here," Kirishima said, ripping a few squares of toilet paper from the roll. "Let me get all that smudged makeup off your face."

Too tired to argue or care, Bakugou tilted his head back and let the other wipe gently at his face. It felt almost... nostalgic, watching Kirishima study him closely to get all of the black shit off. It brought him back to their first date when essentially the same thing happened, and fuck, he couldn't help thinking about just how much had changed. Back then Dumb Hair was little more than his roommate who he thought was sweet and attractive, but now? Now Kirishima was like his whole goddamn world—or at least the most important part of it. To Bakugou, he was more goddamn beautiful than ever, both inside and out. As much as he hated the cheesy shit, it was true, and even though his parents were assholes, he was glad to have this idiot in his life. He was glad to love him, and realize more and more how absolutely true that shit was the more he gazed up at the other.

"Done," Kirishima said with another grin. He crumpled the toilet paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. "There's still a little around your eyelids, but that'll come off when you shower."

"Hey," Bakugou said when Dumb Hair started to move away. "Get back here."

"Huh?" Kirishima blinked stupidly at him as Bakugou stood up, pulling the other back toward him by the wrist.

"I need a distraction, so fucking kiss me."

A smile formed across Kirishima's lips, but it didn't last long because he didn't hesitate. As easy as breathing, their lips molded together, gently at first and then with a bit more fervor (but only because Bakugou had a say in it). Kirishima's hands were warm when they took hold of Bakugou's waist, pulling him closer. The kiss alone was enough for the vast majority of Bakugou's stress and tension held in his muscles to swirl away, forgotten for the time being.

"Hey uh, remember what you told me this morning?" Kirishima asked after pulling away slightly.

"What? I tell you a lotta shit, you gotta be more specific."

"Um... right before you left," he mumbled, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous.

"What?"

"...shit, maybe I did imagine it."

"Imagine what, Shitty Hair?" Bakugou demanded.

"You. You—I swear I heard you say, uhm..." Kirishima huffed, taking a step backwards. "I thought I heard you tell me you—you love me, or whatever..."

Like lightning, Bakugou's heart stuttered and sped up, his stomach twisting uneasily. Ugh. He hated having stupid butterflies; they made him feel like he was gonna fucking puke.

"...what about it?" he mumbled.

"Did you say it, or did I just dream it?"

"No. I said it."

Kirishima seemed to relax a little at that. "I thought so," he said. "And—and you meant it?"

"Hmph," Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms. "You should fuckin' know I don't say shit I don't mean, Dumb Hair."

Just like that, Kirishima's face lit up like the fucking sun. "Well, since your parents took your phone I guess you probably didn't see my text."

"What text?"

"The—the one where I told you that I... love you, too."

Bakugou had no flying clue why, but hearing those words come out of Kirishima's mouth directed right at him made his knees feel like they'd suddenly been turned to fucking pudding, and he didn't know how in the hell he managed to stay upright. All he found he could really do was pull Dumb Hair back toward him with a hand at the nape of his neck and kiss him again like there was no damn tomorrow.

⚜️

Despite the rest of that day having been a literal shitfest, Bakugou found that evening, rainy as it was, to be surprisingly peaceful. Kirishima's mom, as always, cooked a damn good dinner. Both of them seemed to purposefully keep away from the subject of Bakugou's parents, and while it was probably someshit they discussed while he was in the shower, he was grateful.

A nice dinner and a comfortable as fuck bed, pressed right up against his space heater of a boyfriend, plus one of his favorite movies, wasn't even quite enough to keep the knots loosened in his stomach or the memory of his old hag's twisted up, angry face out of the forefront of his mind, though. It was like it kept coming back to sting him again and again like a hornet, and the only thing that seemed to keep it at bay was mindless conversation with Kirishima.

"So how'd you tell your mom, anyway?" he asked.

Kirishima shrugged a shoulder, nonchalant. "It just sorta happened," he said. "She got home. We were having lunch. And I kinda just... told her."

"What'd you say?"

"Mm, I was just telling her about our date yesterday but like, without telling her it was a date, and then I just decided it was a good time to tell her. Not that it mattered much."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"She kinda, uh, already knew," Kirishima said with a nervous laugh. "She said she was glad I finally decided to tell her."

"Yeah, well, 's not like we did a very good job of hiding our shit."

"True."

It wasn't long after that when Kirishima's hands started habitually running through Bakugou's hair. As tired as he was, that was all it took for Bakugou's eyelids to grow heavy and his breathing to deepen, to steady out, until he finally fell into a peaceful slumber.

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btw, i'm thinking about possibly starting up writing commissions, if anyone's interested in that? i don't have any details yet because i have to figure out what the hell i'm doing first lmao, but yeah, let me know if you'd be interested so i know if it's something i should seriously look into or not! <3