Conversational High

Kirishima and Bakugou's exams were finally over and done with. After a month of grueling revising, no sleep, and far too much caffeine (only consumed by Kirishima – Bakugou would never stoop to that level), they could finally relax while awaiting the results.

After wrapping up the last exam that afternoon, they decided to start the summer off smoking a celebratory joint. It took them far too long to find a good place to eat dinner first, so by the time they settled into their chosen spot, Bakugou's childhood park, the sunset was already upon them.

Bakugou cupped his hand around the joint pressed between his lips and took a long drag of smoke. He paused as the pressure built in his lungs and held his breath for a little too long, letting his head spin momentarily before slowly exhaling.

The sun was almost set, the faint glow ever so slightly peeking out from under the horizon, and he could make out a few stars in the sky. He laid down on the metal structure beneath him and stared at them. Another ball of smoke passed through his lungs and he coughed as it left, a heaving, heavy act, before passing the blunt over to Kirishima.

"Do you have plans for the summer yet?" Bakugou asked. They had been so caught up in exam prep that they had barely spoken in the last month. He was silently hoping the answer would be no.

"My moms were thinking of maybe doing a weekend at the beach, and I have a few concerts planned, but nothing crazy." Bakugou let out a breath and smiled.

"Man, I love the beach."

"Me too, bro, I haven't been in years! My little sister's been complaining we don't go enough. I guess she finally annoyed my mom's enough to convince them."

"What concerts you going to?"

"Glass Animals, Escape the Fate, and I'm hoping to snag a ticket to the festival... You know the one... The fucking – Kirishima furrowed his brow – I can't remember the name now."

"I know the one. Sounds fun though, didn't know you were into Escape the Fate."

"Yeah they're great."

Bakugou was starting to feel the high kicking in now. It had been about half an hour since they lit up the blunt, and he was feeling the mellow lull of the weed. His muscles were no longer sore, which was a welcome blessing, and he could feel his thoughts slow down to a controllable pace.

He had never been a very talkative person and the high only exacerbated that. He much preferred to sit in silence or listen to the other fill it in, and Kirishima was the perfect partner for that. Bakugou had noticed that while the weed slowed Kirishima down, it made him ramble more.

He had met Kirishima at the start of freshman year, mostly against his will, and he had had plenty of time with him to learn each of his mannerisms. He knew that he liked ketchup but hated mustard, that he had a love for sharks and a sizable collection of stuffed sharks to match, and that he had an affinity for visual arts but wanted to go into medicine. Bakugou knew that he was good at giving just the right advice, the advice that needed to be heard at that moment, and that he knew when to give it and when to just listen. There were so many parts of Kirishima that Bakugou just understood, inherently, from all the time they spent together.