kiribaku month 2021

smash

gonna be honest, had no idea what to do for this prompt, so here's this  

UPDATE FROM FUTURE ME: I'M A FUCKING IDIOT AND FORGOT THE BNAH SMASH EXISTED HOLY SHIT UHM, I WAS THINKING LIKE SMASHING A WINDOW? HERE'S THIS... I'M STUPID

***

"Bakugou," Kirishima whined, his head planting into his notes. Sure, he had egged Bakugou to help him with studying after getting 15th place on the midterms, but he didn't expect him to turn this boring chore violent. Bakugou was currently sitting right next to Kirishima, looking strangely calm as he checked over Kirishima's English homework. He huffed as he promptly crumpled up the page and exploded it in his fist, making the other boy groan.

"C'mon, that was the best one yet! Do I really need to redo the entire thing again?" His cheek was smushed into his open textbook and he tried to give Bakugou the best expression that showed his pleading, or he'd hate to admit it, begging. It certainly seemed unmanly, but there were certain times where it was needed.

"With that fucking attitude you won't get anywhere. S'not like I fucking care, there was still one wrong, which is still fucking worse than perfect. Now stop whining, I'll try to beat the knowledge into your head this time."

Kirishima groaned as he picked his head up and stared at the ashes that were once his almost-flawless English homework. He sighed and leaned his chin against his palm. "It's really manly how you wanna help, but we won't get anywhere if you keep on incinerating my homework. Plus, I think we missed dinner." His stomach promptly growled.

"Well then get that question right and then we can fucking eat, you bottomless pit." He spat out.

The redhead sighed. "Fine, fine. But you're making my dinner, the stuff everybody else ate is probably cold."

He lifted his chin from his palm and started writing sentences in his lined notebook. He had memorized the sentences already, having written each of them down about many times before getting promptly destroyed by Bakugou. At least he wasn't yelling as loud anymore.

Bakugou was making an effort to look overly annoyed, though he was surprisingly calmer than usual. He was watching Kirishima do his work. A sharp tooth peeking out through his lips as he wrote everything down, something that always happened when he was focusing. The bandana he wore to keep his hair back was constantly slipping forward, and he was readjusting every other second. His dark roots were barely visible, yet still there, something Bakugou had learned to help him with after that incident where Kirishima had come to class with skin all an artificial red. His pencil quickly moved along the paper, seemingly too annoyed to care about neatness, it being basically muscle memory at this point, as he was writing this for the umpteenth time. Bakugou looked over Kirishima's shoulder at the sentences he had written. So far so good.

He stood up and walked over to Kirishima's punching bag, inspecting it out of boredom. It was black (surprisingly not some gaudy shade of red) and placed in the center of the room. That idiot had no sense of design. Speaking of which, that goddamn muscle clock was still hanging high on his wall. It was atrocious and gross and so Kirishima. In a bad way, of course. Shitty. Terrible. Not kinda dorky in a cute way.

Shut up.

He heard Kirishima happily sigh as he spun around in his chair to show off his work to Bakugou. "Finally!" He threw his head back and slouched against the chair. "Now this is the last time, if I do this one more time I'm gonna pass out!" Bakugou walked over in his classic poor-postured fashion.

"Then you better have gotten this shit right. I'm not afraid to have you miss dinner tonight."

Kirishima huffed. "You're so bad to me, Blasty. I'm the best to you. You're just a cranky party-pooper who goes to bed at 8 pm. No sense of fun." He playfully crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue in a childish fashion.