𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 | 𝐤𝐫𝐛𝐤

under the hum of fluorescent lights and the stench of disinfectant, fighters are built like weapons, but broken just as fast.

katsuki bakugou's been clawing his way up the circuit for years: a jiu-jitsu bruiser with a record full of blood and a reputation that proceeds him. eijirou kirishima is the boxer who never quits, the one who grins through broken ribs and continues to charge. once, bakugou beat him clean. then, they trained, burnt out and bled together, until eijirou left for thailand, and then everything went radio silent.

now, they are back together, in the same mma gym, twelve weeks out from fight night. same old camp. same old coaches. different fighters.
the air between them crackles - all sweat, noise and unfinished history. every spar turns personal, every glance lingers a second too long. between bruises and banter, rivalry starts to simmer into something else, something neither of them can afford when the cage door closes.
because in the end, their sport eats softness alive. but they have both been starving for something real.

"deadly as the viper, peering from it's coil..." - jawbreaker', judas priest.

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