Love, According to Denki

VI

     Bakugou is acutely aware of the sweat collecting in his palm.

     While the rest of his body is alive and moving, his right arm is in stasis, frozen in a segment of reality that only he and Kaminari exist in. The initial warmth of the blonde's touch has watered down to a dull pulse of a presence, an afterthought of something once startling and new, and Bakugou, proud - but not too proud to admit it to himself - misses the electricity of the first contact, that first deadly heat that sparked something within his cavernous heart. He looks onward but does not see as his mind wraps around the idea of that touch, that simple gesture that anyone can do but no one has dared try. His glossy eyes bypass images of Kiri and Tetsu chortling with food threatening to spill from their mouths, bypasses Taka refilling their drinks with a pleasant smile written upon his face, bypasses the exact moment when Tetsu slides an entire over-medium egg into his mouth and nearly chokes. The world is behind a veil, and only Kaminari remains.

     The sweat pools on the seat. It sizzles as Bakugou's fingers collapse inwards.

     From his peripheral vision he catches Kaminari's eye, and there's a glimmer that suggests intrigue. Bakugou's lips twitch as if to mouth a phrase, but he finds his jaw is slack and does not wish to move. He scowls, more at himself than anything else, and in response Kaminari offers a wide, sly smile.

     'What?' he mouths, and the glimmer in his eye at least doubles in intensity.

     Bakugou shakes his head, eyes rolling up into his lids. He does not deign to give a reply.

     'Too spicy?' Kaminari teases, and he waggles his eyebrows.

     'No. Fuck off.'

     'Harsh. I might have to punish you for that.'

     Kaminari winks, and a bubbling rage simmers in Bakugou's cheeks as the dull ache of the hand atop his is replaced by a sudden, empty coolness, one that makes his fingers twitch.

     'No one will find your body.'

     Kaminari shrugs in lamentable indifference, hefting another teetering forkful of food into his mouth. Maybe he doesn't care, or maybe he's too stupid to know he should be afraid. Most people would flee at just one sideways glare from Bakugou, but Kaminari - he's different. Even as Bakugou squints at him, nose crinkled and ears red at the tips from a mix of anger and frustration, Kaminari simply stares back with wide, doe-eyes, blinking slowly at him like he doesn't have a care in the world. His cheeks puff like a chipmunk's, stuffed to the point of spilling over with food, and dopamine may well have been a word tattooed on Kaminari's forehead. He is nothing but peace, love, and grease, and Bakugou loathes it. He has no power here, no ability to terrify or scare Kaminari away. This is his world. Not Bakugou's.

     The bastard.

     Bakugou grunts indignantly to himself and snaps the hot sauce off the table once more, drenching the remainder of his food in artificial red drizzle. He eats as angrily as he can muster, which proves to be difficult with the caliber of food he is shoving into his gullet. It's tasty, cooked to a level of perfection he did not expect from such a small, shoddy restaurant, and when he steals a bite of Kaminari's pancake - without the blonde's notice - he notes it is, somehow, not too cloying, as most pancakes are. It is a type of sweet that is admirable, sweet enough to stir his taste buds but not enough to send him scrambling for a glass of water. He quite likes it. He won't admit it, of course. And he certainly won't admit to stealing Kaminari's food, no matter his motivations. It's embarrassing. And rather couple-like.

     And they aren't a couple.

     In silence he finishes off his hot sauced eggs, relishing the sting of heat on his tongue and in his cheeks. Beside him, Kaminari whoops and hollers as Tetsu polishes off his final plate just seconds before Kiri, who is wolfing down food at a speed Bakugou has never witnessed before. It makes it all the more impressive that Tetsu is the one to take the win, and, with a clear lack of grace, Tetsu cheers, pumping his fists into the air and nearly punching Kiri in the jaw in the process. Kiri laughs, oblivious to the almost-punch, and claps Tetsu on the back.

     "Nice job, man!"

     Tetsu smiles a shark-toothed grin. "Thanks!"

     "That was so close! I was on the edge of my seat!" Kaminari chimes in, and he looks to Bakugou as if egging him on. The ashen blonde merely grunts. He doesn't care so much.

     "I don't think I'll eat for the next three days," Kiri says amidst laughter. He reaches for his glass, downs the whole thing in a single swig. An unceremonious burp follows, and his cheeks flush red.

     "Me neither. I'm stuffed. Hopefully I don't puke on the way back home," Tetsu adds, and Kiri snorts.

     "I hadn't thought of that. Thanks, man."

     "No problem."

     While the two chatter about the logistics of vomiting on the way home and the likelihood of it and who would vomit more, Kaminari is already planning his next move. He is swaying gently to the hum of music, lips drawn into a quaint grin as he chases a single blueberry around on his plate.

     Bakugou doesn't bother to question the sideways look he receives.

     "So. What do you think so far? I told you that you wouldn't regret coming out with me!"

     Bakugou snorts indignantly.

     "I'll take that as a 'yes, Kami, I'm enjoying this very much, you're such a great dater, I love you sooo much.' Does that seem about right?"

     "Spot fucking on," Bakugou humors him.

     Kaminari's smile widens. "Knew it. Hey, since they're paying, wanna get out of here? I know a great place to go." He doesn't wait for a response.

     A low, unexcited grumble follows as Bakugou allows himself to be grabbed by the wrist and dragged out of the booth. Another place? Sure, he isn't tired, but he isn't exactly looking forward to spending one on one time with Kaminari. One on one time means only trouble: being forced to observe Kaminari's smile, his mannerisms, his laughter. All things that Bakugou hates. And it isn't because he's bitter. No, he hates the way his body responds, hates how his heart works in double-time and his eyes can't seem to leave Kaminari's lips.

     It's dangerous. The only kind of danger Bakugou doesn't look forward to.

     Kaminari, still holding Bakugou by the wrist, waves a final goodbye to Kiri, Tetsu, and Taka - for whom he left a generous tip - and dips out the door, forgetting to hold it open for Bakugou who nearly gets his ass handed to him by the thick sheet of glass. He grumbles a few curses, throws in a "goddammit, Kami" for good measure, and follows suit into the crisp night air. His free hand finds its way to his pocket, delves into the fabric in search of his phone. Rough fingertips find smooth glass and he palms the phone, pulling it out and clicking it on.

     4:47 A.M.

     He groans. What else is going to be open at this time? The 24 hour restaurant was already a stretch. He can't imagine any other establishments are going to be operating by the same schedule.

     But Kaminari doesn't seem worried. He skips happily down the street, pulling Bakugou unwillingly along behind him. Leaves dance in the air, spiraling around in whorls that Bakugou thinks would make a nice painting - if one so chose to do something as stupid and worthless as painting, that is. Still, it's quite picturesque, the trees waving in the breeze, the streetlamps emitting their amber glow. The lack of people on the sidewalks. No cars whirring between intersections. It's quiet.

     Leave it to Kaminari to change that.