14 Days | KiriBaku | BakuShima

Day 11

Kirishima woke from another one of those dreams, face burning with embarrassment once he realised they weren't real and he was having fantasies about living - romantically - with his best friend. His toes curled as he cursed his mind, wishing he could just force these feelings away. This was Bakugo, for crying out loud!

Dear god, he was crushing on Bakugo Katsuki.

His traitorous eyes flickered over to the edge of the bed, but was unsurprised to see the futon on the floor neatly made up and empty, and the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom in front of him. Kirishima sighed and swung his legs out of bed, trudging over to his dresser to grab his school clothes.

After shrugging them on, he patiently waited outside of the bathroom for Bakugo to emerge, mentally willing himself not to stare as Bakugo would be-

- wet and hot and delicious -

-and he knew, from experience, that such a sight was breathtaking. Kirishima's mind would turn to mush, his bones to jelly, not to mention not a limb would listen to his brain when it told him to move away, direct your gaze someplace else that wasn't Bakugo's rippling abs covered in water droplets that slid between the creases of his muscles...

The sound of the water shutting off snapped Kirishima out of his reverie and he plastered on a smile just as Bakugo ripped the door open, scowl in place.

"G'morning, Bakugo!" Kirishima greeted cheerfully, forcing his eyes to stay on his friend's face and not wander. Bakugo didn't return the grin, clicking his tongue and stalking past Kirishima.

"Stop being so fucking loud," he grumbled, Kirishima's eyes following him around the room. "It's too fucking early."

Kirishima laughed, wrenching his gaze off of Bakugo's slick back as he sauntered into the en-suite. "Ah, sorry," he said, opening the cabinet under his sink and pulling out the hair gel. "You know me, man. Always loud."

"Annoying," Kirishima heard Bakugo mutter, and he laughed as he coated his fingers in the clear liquid and ran them through his strands. Kirishima's reflection in the mirror showed no signs of black at his roots, and he mentally commended Bakugo on doing such a good job with his hair dye.

After ten minutes or so, his hair was spiked and the gel was set, and Kirishima emerged from the bathroom. As usual, Bakugo was sitting on the bed waiting for him, and the simple act made Kirishima feel a little warm inside. Their relationship really had progressed from the beginning of the year.

"Fucking finally," Bakugo grunted, pocketing his phone and trudging over to the door. Although he seemed to express exasperation at every opportunity at Kirishima's morning routine, never once did Bakugo tell him to change it. Maybe it was simply because he didn't care, but Kirishima liked to think (and part of him believed) that it was because Bakugo really understood him, understood that the gel and the dye are what made Kirishima feel right, feel sane. That Bakugo could see that those things were what kept him going most of the time, and at those thoughts, the warm fuzzy feeling intensified.

Throughout the school day, Kirishima's eyes kept flicking over to stare at the back of the blond's head from across the classroom, noting the way he slouched, tapped his pen against his fingers, occasionally closed his eyes as if to refrain from committing some heinous act - and Kirishima wasn't oblivious to the factor that the latter often happened when Midoriya spoke.

In fact, Kirishima's eyes stayed on his best friend all day. Clearly, he hadn't been subtle about it because at lunch, when Bakugo was elsewhere, Mina took the opportunity to confront him about it, backed up by Kaminari and Sero.

"Kiri!" Mina whisper-yelled, some odd combo she did when she was excited. Both of her hands were on his shoulders and she shook him violently. "What the hell?"