Chips and Soda

Chapter Fourteen

    Maybe there was probably some bigger reason that Kirishima fell for Bakugou. Some big part of God’s plan or some shit. Maybe there was some reason he was sprinting down Garner Street, sweat and rain soaking him to the bone as he raked his eyes over last mailbox searching frantically for the number three forty-two.

    Maybe he was being over dramatic and maybe the pounding of his heart was just because he was running and not because he just couldn’t find those three numbers through the fog of night.

    Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t worried about Bakugou, but instead worried about himself. He worried about himself like the selfish person he was because he just couldn’t let Bakugou slip through his desperate fingers, not when Bakugou had thread his own through them that one night when he walked Kirishima home. The night he let his anger slip from his demeanor and looked at Kirishima like he was the end of a seemingly endless fall. The night he made Kirishima feel as if the missing puzzle piece had been found.

    Maybe, maybe, maybe. The word held so many possibilities. “Maybe I'll do this” or “Maybe I can get that” or “Maybe you can be mine and I can be yours.” Maybe. It occurred to Kirishima that he was probably being a hopeless romantic, that what had happened between him and Bakugou was just a fling that everyone had when they were young. It was entirely possible that after today, Bakugou would want nothing to do with him and Kirishima would never see the enchanting red eyes that he’d fallen in love with. 

    No. It wasn’t the eyes he’d fallen in love with. It was the way his eyebrows would squeeze together when he glared or how he’d call Kirishima names that never had any real insult in them. How his face would soften when he thought no one wasn’t looking and how he looked so gentle in those moments. What Kirishima loved about him was him. Every single positive and negative that came with the package labeled Katsuki Bakugou. He wanted it all. 

    Kirishima found himself coming to a stop, his chest heaving as his lungs tried to pull in more air. Hurriedly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed in the gut wrenching number that he’d stayed up late staring at in disbelief only nights before. It rang a few times before sending him to voicemail.   

    Groaning, he hit the redial button and put the phone to his ear again, pleading to the absent Bakugou to pick up. After two more unanswered calls, Kirishima finally heard the line on the other end pick up. Sighing in relief, he waited to hear the other speak.

    It took him many of seconds of painful silence but Bakugou finally muttered a few words, “What do you want?” The words were as gruff as always but seemed different, like there was something else he wanted to say in place of them. 

    “Come outside,” Kirishima panted, his feet spinning him around as he searched the street for any sign of the blonde.
 
    “I’m not hom- wait, what the hell? Are you at my house?” Sudden interest sparked in Bakugou’s tone but Kirishima didn’t even pay attention to the question.

    “Then where are you,” Kirishima practically demanded, already gearing up to start running once again. 

    Bakugou immediately began to jump into an argument. "Hey, you can't just tell order me around like you think you're somebody," the blonde protested into the speaker. He scoffed, "I mean who do you thin-". 

    "Katsuki!" Kirishima shouted into the phone, one hundred percent sure that Bakugou had cursed him under his breath before listening. "Tell me where you are Bakugou. Please." It must have been the desperate undertone in Kirishima's voice or maybe it was the way his voice cracked when he said "Please". Maybe Bakugou just felt bad for him and that's why he gave in and told Kirishima in a begrudging voice that he was at the lake. Again, maybe.