i wonder how many more of these chapters are gonna have the word 'day' in the title, lmao

---

Kirishima

Though they weren't surprised in the least, the rest of the group was absolutely ecstatic to find out they'd made things official. Mina was so happy that Kirishima thought she was going to explode—or throw a party, and even he, as damn happy as he was of course, had to tell her to calm down. It was nice knowing all of their friends—the very ones that had been insisting Bakugou liked him back for months and were there for him during his occasional rants about being confused about his crush and fearing messing up his friendship with his roommate—were too happy for them to tell him any kind of 'I told you so.' (Still, he could kind of see that kind of attitude in Sero's eyes, which he promptly ignored.)

"And just in time for Valentine's Day," Jirou had pointed out.

"Oh yeah! It'll be Kiri's first time having someone on Valentine's Day," Kaminari pointed out with a wink in his direction that only served to embarrass him, and he'd averted the subject away from the impending holiday as quickly as possible.

It did get him thinking about it, though. Of course, he'd known in the back of his mind that it was coming up and he hadn't been completely oblivious to the posters and flyers going up all around campus about the dance the student council was planning for it. He'd just been so distracted by, well, Bakugou, that it'd been pushed to the back of his thoughts. Now, though, his mind was buzzing with trying to come up with ideas to do or things to give his new boyfriend (the word still struck a chord within him and never failed to make his insides flutter) for it, even if he had an inkling that Bakugou didn't care much for the holiday. Regardless, he wasn't about to ignore it altogether, and already he'd filled half a page in his history notebook during class with ideas.

⚜️

The fact that they were dating—finally and officially—didn't stop the memes. In fact, it seemed it only made the exchange of them increase, and Kirishima would send any cute ones he could find, no matter how cheesy they might've been. The closer it got to Valentine's Day, the cheesier he made them—and Bakugou played along.

Even if they were old, he found several ridiculous pickup lines he knew would probably make Bakugou roll his eyes but (probably, hopefully) at least snort a small laugh.

Some of them were ones he'd saved months ago that Kaminari or Sero had sent him, but that he'd found too ridiculous or a little too intense to send Bakugou at the time. Now, though, he didn't even hesitate when tapping send, amused by it himself.

And even though Kirishima knew Bakugou thought the memes were ridiculous (hell, he did too), the other retaliated with his own easily, and it never failed to make his bones turn to jelly and his stomach explode with butterflies, even if they were a little on the edgy side.

And, Kirishima's favorite of all:

It was almost a constant rhythm of meme exchanging whenever they weren't together—which admittedly wasn't very often. Even though it was already normal that they spent the majority of their free time together, what with being part of the same usual friend group and being, well, roommates, somehow it felt like more. Maybe it was because their moments together were more intense, their exchanges were—obviously—more than simply friendly with each other as it'd always been up until then.

Having a class together gave them more of an excuse to spend time together, too, and alone. Sure, they studied... sort of. They always planned to but, well, things don't always work out the way they're planned. More often than not they got way too distracted with each other to be able to focus on the material anymore, and 'study sessions' tended to turn into 'make out sessions' instead... which even still, after a few weeks, Kirishima still couldn't get enough of.

Their conversations didn't end, either, and somehow they got deeper. Way deeper. They got into territories Kirishima never even really thought about anymore, or at least places he never thought he'd talk about out loud with anyone. He even spilled the beans on the death of his father, something he'd refused to think or talk about anymore since a year or so after it happened. And when he got upset, feeling like a dam he hadn't really known was there, holding back everything he felt from the incident had broken... Bakugou was (admittedly surprisingly) sympathetic. Of course, every time Kirishima apologized for the silly tears, knowing he looked really dumb, Bakugou told him to shut up. But he was soft about it—so much softer than Kirishima had ever seen him get, and in just that moment he could feel himself falling further—albeit slowly, but he was.

He knew it was the silly 'honeymoon phase,' something that'd come to an end eventually but man, he really didn't want it to. He loved being with Bakugou—loved it more than he thought he would a month ago when he was still only crushing and thinking things like this would probably never happen, and that was pretty damn impressive. He truly, seriously, without a doubt could not remember a time in his life where he'd felt even remotely as happy as he did being with Bakugou.

As much as they tried to keep their relationship on the down-low when it came to people at school, it didn't work out too well. But damn, Kirishima couldn't help that he always wanted to hold Bakugou's hand as they walked across campus or to or from classes together. People caught on pretty quickly, of course, but thanks to Bakugou's generally grumpy and unapproachable demeanor to anyone who they weren't friends with, nobody confronted them about it, which gave them the privacy they both wanted.

Of course, their friends were in on pretty much everything they allowed themselves to share—things the others would inevitably find out anyway, and no way were they holding back any of their teasing comments about it. It was just like when Kaminari and Jirou had first started dating; for the first month or so, he and the other two had teased them almost nonstop. But now that he was on the receiving end, he held mild regret for all of the comments he made back then (especially because he still hadn't found a way to force away the heat rising to his face whenever it happened, which only served to make them tease him more when he became visibly flustered... go figure).

Despite all the teasing that came after, Kaminari still made sure to apologize to Bakugou for the whole Pocky incident. As pretty typical of Bakugou, though, he brushed him off with a shrug and an 'it's whatever.' As embarrassing as it had been when it happened and for the few days following, no one could deny it did kickstart things between the two of them and because of it, neither of them were really all that upset about it. At least, not anymore. And, as weird as it felt to think about in hindsight, Kirishima was actually somewhat grateful to Kami for doing what he did, despite all the embarrassment and tension they endured for a days after the fact.

And now, for the first time since elementary school (if that even counted), Kirishima would have a Valentine, and he was beyond excited.

Bakugou

Bakugou was so sick of all the damn pink. It was fucking everywhere—plastered on every single wall throughout the entire goddamn campus, even in the dorms, and he was starting to think he could smell some of that pepto bismol shit emitting from it all. As far as he knew, pepto was supposed to get rid of your nausea, but all this did was induce it. It was disgusting.

So every chance he got, he buried himself in red, which had a much nicer, more guyish scent to it that he'd be more than happy to take everywhere with him if he could. Being with Kirishima made him so stupidly happy that it was easy as hell to forget how irritated by all the Valentine's day stuff he was.

But inevitably, of course, Dumb Hair eventually brought it up, too. They'd been sitting on his bed avoiding their homework as usual, transitioning between talking, watching random YouTube shit on Kirishima's laptop, and making out, their bodies rarely leaving contact with one another, when he spoke up about it.

"So... I know you're not really into the Valentine's day stuff," he began. He was holding one of Bakugou's hands in his own, using the other to trace the lines of his palm with the tip of his finger.

Bakugou immediately cut him off. "How the fuck d'you know? I never said that."

An easy yet somewhat disappointed grin pulled at the corner of Kirishima's lips, and fuck, every time the little fucker smiled all Bakugou wanted to do was fucking kiss him. "I know, but I think 'm gettin' pretty good at reading you. Plus, you scowl at any of the posters about the dance any time we walk by 'em, so it wasn't that hard to figure out."

All Bakugou could think to do was 'hmph' in response, remembering how his mom always told him he sucked at expressing emotions unless they were that of anger or annoyance, and he hated how right she was.

"Anyway, I know you're not into it or anything but I was kinda hopin' you'd make a small exception and lemme do something for you anyway?" He peeked up from beneath those thick, dark lashes, his eyes sparkling with just a bit of hope and half of that small smile still on his face.

As much as Bakugou's first instinct was to say 'fuck no' and to tell him to treat it as a normal day, those stupid eyes made him relent, even if he remained a little skeptical. "Like what?" he mumbled.

"'S a surprise, man," Kirishima told him, lifting his head. "But don't worry, the idea I have isn't anything huge. And it won't even be V-day themed, so you could even say 's just like a normal present you got from your boyfriend but he just happened to give it to you on Valentine's day."

Bakugou resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Dumb Hair was such an idiot, but he was so damn cute. "But what if it wasn't a shitty holiday?" he asked. "Would you still be giving me whatever the fuck it is you're talking about?"

Kirishima's back straightened and he finally lifted his head all the way, his hand coming to rest gently down against Bakugou's palm, steady and warm. "Yeah, I think I would," he said. "This way I sorta just have a deadline to get it done by, y'know?"

Get it done. Something about those three little words gave Bakugou the inkling that it wasn't someshit he was planning to go buy at Target or the mall or something. The little fucker was probably planning on making him something—which meant it was gonna mean so much more than just a normal gift. They'd only been dating just under a month and Dumb Hair was already so ridiculously sweet and thoughtful, leaving Bakugou to believe he didn't deserve him. Not really. He sure as fuck wasn't super thoughtful when it came to romantic shit or whatever. Hell, he wasn't even good at being a thoughtful friend—he'd gotten Kirishima a fucking dog tag for his birthday (that he was never seen without anymore, but still).

"You can say no, man. I'll understand," Kirishima said after a pause. "But I can't promise I won't give it to you eventually anyway."

Kirishima's smile was almost cocky now, the bastard, but his eyes were pleading. And Jesus hell, those eyes were Bakugou's fucking weak spot. Just like that he gave in, and Kirishima beamed.

⚜️

"Hey, Pikachu."

"Huh?" Kaminari's head snapped up from his phone. "Oh hey, Bakugou. What's up, man?" he asked as Bakugou approached. To Bakugou's fortune, Pikachu was alone as he sauntered across campus toward the boys' dorm after school, just as he'd hoped to find the loser.

"Help me with somethin'," he said, falling into step beside the other with his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Help you with what?"

"Dumb Hair insisted on getting me some shitty present for Valentine's day and I gotta get him something too, but I'm shit at picking out gifts for people. So tell me what kinda stuff he'd like, since you know him so well or whatever," Bakugou explained.

Despite the demanding nature of his request, Kaminari perked up. "Oh yeah? You guys gonna have your own little celebration together?" he asked in that stupid teasing voice Bakugou was already used to (even though that didn't mean it wasn't still annoying as fuck).

"Shut up, idiot. Just gimme ideas already."

"With all the time you guys spend together I'm surprised you don't know him better than I do already."

Bakugou huffed in irritation. He was pretty sure he did know Kirishima better than this loser, or as well as he did at the very least. "I fucking do, but I just said I suck at finding gifts."

"Well ya know he's really into art," Kaminari said.

"Yeah, but what the hell could I get him that he can't just find in the art room?"

"Hm... good point. Maybe you could go for some merch instead. He likes Shinedown a lot. And the Zelda games. I dunno if you'll be able to get to the mall between now and Thursday to get something, though."

Bakugou was two fucking seconds from walking away from this babbling moron. He was almost no damn help, and—

"Oh!" Kaminari snapped his fingers and smiled. "I know what you can get him."

"Then fucking spit it out!"

"Okay, okay! So listen..."

⚜️

If Bakugou thought all of the disgusting pink fliers, posters, and decorations going up around the school over the past week for the gross holiday coming up was nauseating already, he had another thing coming that Thursday—the day of, when he swore the whole campus was a sea of shiny pink and white balloons, teddy bears, and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. Several times he had to bat some balloons out of his way and duck around people holding those giant as fuck teddy bears that were bigger than them just to make it to his classes, and before lunch he was already considering skipping out on the rest of the day and going the fuck back to his room for a nap until the school day was over and he could be with his boyfriend again.

(Boyfriend was still a word he was trying to get used to, too, and every time he thought about it in terms of his new relationship, a small version of that electric thrill he felt when he kissed Kirishima skipped up his spine.)

The only thing that kept him from ditching was knowing he had only one more shitty class to get through before science, which meant an entire hour of spending time with Kirishima in the back of the classroom while the rest of the class paid attention to whatever dumb movie their teacher had planned for the day. But of-fucking-course, as luck would have it, that dickweasel Aizawa called him into his office at the end of sixth period for another bullshit check-up meeting that he didn't get out of until there was only ten minutes left of seventh period. After that, he didn't even bother going to his last class. The day was already turning out to be complete shit and if he couldn't spend time with Dumb Hair, he was sure as fuck gonna take a well-deserved nap. So that was what he did.

When he awoke again, it was to the sound of Kirishima entering the room, still wearing his backpack and carrying some type of black plastic bag with something square within it. The light streaming in the window had changed so drastically from when Bakugou had fallen asleep that he sat up with a start and fumbled to see the time, only to find it was damn near six in the evening. He'd slept for four hours.

"Hey, sorry to wake you so suddenly," Kirishima said, holding his free hand up and smiling apologetically as he shuffled towards his bed.

"'S fine," mumbled Bakugou sleepily, already regretting letting himself sleep so damn long and wondering just how fucked up his eyeliner was. "The fuck have you been anyway?" he asked.

"Art room," Kirishima told him. "I texted you about it, but when I found out you ditched eighth period from Hagakure, I figured you probably came to take a nap so I wasn't too worried about finding you when you didn't text back."

Bakugou was already reading the text message waiting unread on his phone.

>Gonna go work on some art. Meet you back in the room later :)♥

"Shit... " Bakugou grumbled, rubbing both hands down his face. "I slept way too fucking long."

"'S okay, man. It gave me time to finish getting your present ready to, ya know, actually give it to you. And then we can totally ditch the dance and go do something more fun," he said as he dropped his backpack on his bed and then came over to plop next to Bakugou on his, plastic bag still closed within his fist. It was only then that he noticed the paint all over Dumb Hair's hands and arms, even smudging his face a little bit with a few new smears on his already stained jeans.

Bakugou fucking knew it, and his gift was gonna be shit in comparison to whatever was in that damn bag. The only hope he had about not feeling like complete shit about his gift was to go first.

"Fine, but lemme give you mine first," he said, navigating his way through his phone while mentally he worked on waking himself the fuck up.

"Wait—you got me something?" Kirishima asked, and though the happiness in his voice couldn't be denied, it was accompanied with a certain amount of bewilderment. "You didn't have to—"

"Shut up, yes I fucking did," Bakugou said, finally finding the damn confirmation email after passing it for the fourth time. "Since you got something for me and I'm not about to let you be a better fucking boyfriend than me. 'S s'posed to be equal. So here." He held the phone in the other's direction, but Dumb Hair didn't even look at the thing right away. Instead the little fucker was smiling at him, the softest of looks in his eyes.

"Aw, dude," he said with a laugh. "You letting me get you something is all I really wanted. Seriously."

Even though Bakugou swore he felt all of his damn internal organs melt at that damn look and how abso-fucking-lutely cheesy this loser was being, he still clicked his tongue and shoved the phone toward him more. "Too bad. I got you something, now fucking look."

To no surprise, Kirishima's smile remained in place as he finally looked down at the phone and gently slipped it from Bakugou's palm to steady it and read the screen. And then Bakugou could just watch as the dummy's eyes somehow lit up more than they already were, widening so far Bakugou was half expecting the damn things to fall right out of his skull with his mouth literally popping open.

"Dude!" he half-shouted. "Shinedown tickets?! Seriously?!" he asked, eyes flicking up in mild disbelief to Bakugou's.

"No, it's a fake fucking email, you moron. Yes seriously."

"But aren't they, like, crazy expensive?!"

Bakugou rolled a shoulder in a half shrug. "Not really," he said. "I mean, 'cause the seats aren't all that great since all the better ones were taken already. But I figured it was better than nothing."

"Are you kidding? It's awesome!" Kirishima enthused, laughing like a fucking dork as he threw his arms around Bakugou's neck. "Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Bakugou mumbled, though he returned the embrace with ease. "You gotta thank Pikachu too, though. He's the one who gave me the idea in the first place. I didn't even know they were touring this summer."

"Either way, man, you're still the one who dropped a couple hundred bucks on tickets. I don't think I even deserve this."

Immediately, Bakugou pushed him away, a scowl pressing into his brow. "Why the fuck not?"

"'Cause, man! My present isn't nearly this great, and I don't think I've done anything to warrant—"

The rest of his sentence was muffled by Bakugou's hand pressing right to his mouth. "Shut up, you nerd. If you didn't fucking deserve it, I wouldn't have done it." In fact, you deserve a million times better, and this shit was the best I could come up with, he added silently to himself.

Kirishima tugged his hand away from his mouth and in the next instant he was leaning in and pressing his mouth right to Bakugou's without warning. Despite the surprise Bakugou responded immediately, letting his mouth mold naturally into the other's. He could still feel the fucker smiling, and that always made his heart jump. This time was no exception.

"Thank you," Kirishima murmured again, right up against Bakugou's lips.

"You're welcome, Shitty Hair. Now are you gonna give me my present or what?"

"Yeah, of course!" Kirishima tugged himself back and turned his whole stupid body so it was facing Bakugou, hefting the bag up into his lap. "I didn't really spend any money, but I got up super early for several days in a row to do this so I really hope you like it, even if it's not as great as the gift you got me," he was saying as he stuck his arm into the bag.

"I doubt that," Bakugou muttered. "And wait, you got up early? Then how the fuck were you here to wake me up?"

"I made sure to come back in time to do that and get ready," Kirishima told him. "Especially 'cause I didn't wanna ruin the surprise."

This idiot was too damn good for him...

Just as he started to pull the thing out of the bag, he stopped. "Wait, d'you wanna open it instead?"

"Don't care, just hurry it up."

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, pulling the rectangular thing the rest of the way out. It was, as silently predicted, a canvas covered in what was more than likely one of Kirishima's goddamn masterpieces. He kept the front of it facing himself, though, leaving Bakugou still guessing about what was on the other side. He bit his lip, too, as he gazed down at it, his thin brows tugging together and the smile from before virtually gone.

"What?" Bakugou asked.

"Nothing! I'm just worried you're not gonna like it."

"Why the fuck wouldn't I like it?"

Dumb Hair shrugged. Bakugou held out his hand. "Lemme see. No way in hell am I not gonna like it," he said. He'd meant for it to come out harsher—more annoyed—than it did out of habit, but even to him it sounded more like a promise than anything.

So with a deep breath, Kirishima flipped the thing around and watched Bakugou's face as he took it in.

And... yep. Bakugou had been so fucking right to think his gift wasn't shit compared to the gorgeous fucking landscape painting carefully and lovingly designed and mapped out across the front of the canvas. It was something Bakugou recognized easily because it was something he'd seen probably a few hundred times in his life already. It was the the thing he'd somehow sort of bonded with in the early hours of the morning after hours upon hours of playing video games... the thing that'd kept him company when he downed his first glass of water after probably twelve hours, giving his fingers and eyes a break from the buttons and television.

It was the sky on a mildly cloudy morning—probably sometime in spring, since there was no fucking way he was gonna go outside during the damn winter when he took his break—just before the sun had broken past the horizon. Its orange rays illuminated the clouds and silhouetted everything in front of it, in this case some trees off to the right and a city with a small ferris wheel toward the left as Kirishima had painted it.

It was so simple, but so fucking gorgeous. Bakugou couldn't help but think Kirishima had been withholding his skills as a painter from him up until then. And he was utterly speechless.

"Aw, see? I knew you wouldn't like it," Kirishima mumbled. "I knew the colors were off, but I was so pressed for time that I decided to just go for it, but maybe I should've waited..."

Bakugou caught his wrist as he started to turn the painting back around, stopping him. "The fuck? What 'off colors'?" he asked. "It's fucking perfect."

Once again Kirishima's eyes widened. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "Perfect?"

"Isn't that what I fucking said? Lemme see it again."

With an innocent, semi-confused blink, Kirishima slid the painting over across their laps and let go of it when Bakugou had ahold of it. He couldn't stop staring at it! It was fucking incredible. Every stroke of paint had clearly been handled with care. The clouds looked weirdly alive, popping right off the canvas. Colors faded from dark blues and grays to pinks, oranges, yellows, and even purples from top to bottom, getting brighter and more defined toward the horizon. He'd even shown the way the light hit the objects in front of the impending sunrise, illuminating them and making them seem to pop, too. Bakugou could almost feel the cool, morning, dew-scented breeze on his face and hear the damn crickets still hiding in the grass nearby. Fuck, he had a talented boyfriend.

"What made you decide to paint this?" he found himself asking without taking his eyes from the art.

"It's your favorite time of day," Dumb Hair answered simply.

That made Bakugou's head snap up. "What? How'd you know that?" Automatically he was wracking his memory, trying to figure out when the hell he told Kirishima this. Hell, he hadn't really even known it himself, but once the words were said he could just feel them to be true.

"Just somethin' I picked up on."

What the fuck?

"So... you really like it?"

"Are you fucking kidding?"

"No...?"

As much as he didn't really want to, Bakugou cast the painting off to the side. There was a knot starting to form in his stomach from knowing how insecure Kirishima was feeling about the painting, leaving him no choice but to show him how damn much he liked it, and how fucking grateful he was to have someone so stupidly, ridiculously, and amazingly thoughtful in his life.

So with a hand wrapping gently but securely around the back of Dumb Hair's neck, he leaned forward, tugging the other toward him at the same time while giving the other enough time to stop him before they collided. When he didn't, he kissed the damn idiot hard.

He'd never, ever, ever get tired of this feeling. Even if that electric thrill stopped shooting down to every single one of his nerve endings, if his stomach stopped fluttering all grossly happy, if his heart stopped jumping and kicking into overdrive whenever their lips met, he'd never get tired of feeling the way Kirishima's soft mouth always molded so easily into his. He'd always revel in the feeling of those hands, always somewhat scrambling to find a place somewhere on his body to lock onto, to hold him there tighter—longer, if even for a mere second. He'd never get tired of how Kirishima somehow always managed to take the edge of control no matter which one of them initiated the kiss.

Sometimes Bakugou himself wished he could paint, because feeling Kirishima so close to him, his lips moving in a steady rhythm with his own like it was the most natural thing in the world, felt like an explosion of color throughout his entire being, and he wanted to capture it. It sounded fucking weird, he knew, but there was no other way to describe it.

Even if, like this time, Kirishima was the one to pull away, Bakugou was always, always the first to open his eyes. And when he did he'd taken to watching the other until his finally cracked open too, trying to commit to memory that gorgeous fucking look of absolute bliss on his face, accompanied by a faint blush coloring his cheekbones. Every damn time he couldn't help thinking about how ridiculously lucky he'd gotten, and regretted suppressing the feelings he'd clearly had building up and delaying being able to be like this for so long.

"So... I guess ya like it," Kirishima said, albeit a bit breathlessly.

"No shit?"

Dumb Hair laughed and kissed him again, short and quick.

⚜️

The two spent the remainder of the evening completely avoiding the dance—and people—but not remaining cooped up in their room by taking Kirishima's skateboard around to the back of the school building where there was a decently sized slab of concrete and not a single person in sight.

"You ready to try again?"

Bakugou rubbed his knee again and stood up. "Yeah," he said. "Fuck giving up."

Kirishima grinned at him. "Your knee is good, yeah?"

"Yeah. 'S just a scrape. C'mon, let's do this."

The familiar clack echoed off the brick wall as Kirishima put the skateboard back down and nudged it toward the other. Their hands came together between them as Bakugou stepped on it for the umpteenth time, keeping one foot on the ground until Kirishima had ahold of his waist.

"No, just do hands," he told him.

"But—"

"I know I fell last time, but 'm never gonna fuckin' learn if you help me balance all the time. Just keep hold of my hand."

Kirishima didn't sound too convinced in his "okay..." but did as asked anyway. Again he pulled Bakugou along the sidewalk through the halo of light provided by a lamp hanging from the wall overhead. Bakugou was good, evenly balanced for several feet until he went over one of the bigger cracks in the concrete and lost his balance, tumbling forward straight onto Kirishima who stumbled backward, somehow managing to stay on his feet and steady both of them with his arms around Bakugou.

"Dammit," Bakugou gritted out through his teeth. "How the fuck do you do this?"

"Lotsa practice," Kirishima told him.

"If I can't ride a dumb skateboard how the fuck am I gonna be able to ride a motorcycle?" he grumbled.

"Don't worry, man. You'll get the hang of it."

"Whatever. 'M done for now."

"Fine with me. I'm gettin' pretty tired, anyway," Kirishima said as he kicked up his board and tucking it under his arm, all without letting go of Bakugou's hand.

"It's only like eight," Bakugou said as they started back toward the dorm.

"Yeah, but I've been getting up early, remember?"

"Hmph. Baby."

Kirishima merely stuck his tongue out playfully.

Once back in the room they changed into their pajamas and piled onto Bakugou's bed with a laptop and a movie on Netflix. Just as Bakugou was getting ready to reach over and turn off the light, warmth met his shoulder and he swore his heart skipped two entire beats when he looked down, finding Kirishima's head, hair still damp from washing out all the gel, resting in the small curve just below his collarbone.

"Who said I'm your fuckin' pillow?" he mumbled when the light was out and he'd tucked his arm behind his head.

"I did," Kirishima mumbled sleepily. "Want me to move?"

"...no," Bakugou mumbled.

He felt the soft rumble of a chuckle in his side before the other yawned, and he was damn sure the loser could hear his heart pounding. That didn't stop him from resting an arm around his back and towards his waist where Kirishima's already was, his own arm wrapped around himself where it was squished between them. When he felt it, Kirishima pushed his fingers through Bakugou's and yawned again.

"Hey," he said without really looking up.

"What?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"...yeah, yeah, happy mushy chocolate day to you, too, Dumb Hair."

The last sound from Kirishima's throat before he fell asleep right there on Bakugou's chest only a few minutes later was one more sleepy chuckle. And somehow it wasn't too much longer before he, too, succumbed to blissful slumber.