My Favorite Color is You {Kiribaku - BNHA}

Part 1

This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, and the next thing I knew it was nearly 20K words long and still had a long way to go, sooo it'll just be a short fic instead, max of 5 chapters, min of 3; not sure yet.

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"Y'know, that same guy comes in here really often after leaving the hospital."

"What guy?"

"The blonde." Kirishima jerked his chin in the direction of the counter where said blonde stood in line to make his order, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, a seemingly permanent irate frown set upon his brow. The plethora of people during the afternoon rush only seemed to deepen the wrinkles between his eyes.

Kaminari twisted in his seat to seek out the person in question. "Huh, really?"

"Yeah."

"And you noticed?"

"You haven't?" Kirishima asked; even after his friend turned back to face him, he didn't take his eyes from the blonde and watched as he stepped up to tell the barista his order.

"No? Should I have?"

Kirishima shrugged. "Dunno. You think it's weird?"

"What?"

"That I've noticed."

Kaminari hummed thoughtfully, a smug look on his face. "Nah, not for you. At least, not if you got a thing for someone," he said with a somewhat smug grin.

Kirishima stiffened. "What? Really?"

"The only time I've seen you pay that much attention was when you were crushing hard on that dude back in high school."

Warmth began to flood Kirishima's face, his eyes drifting back towards the blonde who was now standing at the opposite end of the counter, scrolling mindlessly through something on his phone while he waited for his order to be made. It was the same as usual, only this time Kirishima was really looking at him.

His hair, an ash blonde that almost looked bleached, stuck up in about a thousand different directions much the way Kirishima's own did. His skin was fair, he had a slender build, and couldn't be any taller than Kirishima was. The scowl that was set upon the stranger's face—bearing several piercings, Kirishima suddenly noticed—seemed almost permanent, and he never really looked anyone directly in the face. His posture was stiff, almost defensive as though he was ready to lash out at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Still, Kirishima couldn't deny the appeal of that face—slightly round in the cheeks but strong in the jaw.

"You said he comes from the hospital?" Kaminari asked, twisting in his seat to see said hospital, diagonally across the street with the door in a direct line of sight from their usual table.

"Yeah," Kirishima said without taking his eyes from the blonde.

"So you do have a thing for him," Kaminari said as he twisted back, shit-eating grin and all, pulling Kirishima's attention back to him. "Right?"

Kirishima relented, laughing a little as he rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck and internally scolding himself for staring like an idiot. "Maybe I do, man. But I don't even know him, ya know?"

"Sooo get to know him," Kaminari said. "You said he's here often, right?"

"Yep."

"There ya go, man."

Kirishima sat up straighter, drumming his fingers on the surface of the table on either side of his laptop where the document he was supposed to be writing an essay on color theory was still blank, the little cursor blinking expectantly at him. "How'm I supposed to approach him, though?"