I actually got this done quicker than I thought I would :') I hope you guys enjoy it, and thank you so much for the love on the first part!

Btw, this will have 3 parts, so one more after this!

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"Dude, have you finished your paper yet?"

"Almost. I somehow managed to word vomit my way through it last night," Kirishima told Kaminari as he lifted the lid of his laptop. He'd just slid into his usual seat at their table the following Monday.

"Ugh," Kaminari groaned, slumping down onto the table. "I'm jealous. I still have two thousand words of a boring history paper to write," he mumbled into his arms.

Kirishima chuckled. "Sometimes I feel like college is just paying to write a bunch of crap you won't remember later," he said.

"Don't think I could agree more," Kaminari said, sitting up to pull out his notes and laptop. "So ya know anything about the Vietnam war?"

"Dude, think about who you're asking," Kirishima said. "I suck at remembering history, let alone world history."

"Heh, yeah. Figured I'd give it a shot, though," he sighed. "But hey, you never told me about what happened Friday after you left. You know—with that guy."

Kirishima couldn't hide his grin as he launched into a brief retelling of his 'adventure' with Bakugou to find his wallet, explaining how it was turned in at the police station, recounting how he paid for a few things for Bakugou after his money was stolen, and ended with them heading their separate ways at the bus stop.

"Yep, that sounds like you—always the gentleman, helping people out when you don't have to. Even though you probably did it 'cause you're attracted to him, huh?" Kaminari said with that same teasing, shit-eating grin Kirishima knew so well.

"Can't deny that was part of it, but I woulda done it even if I wasn't," Kirishima admitted.

"Did he even thank you?"

"Well, yes and no? He doesn't really seem like the kinda guy who's so great with words and stuff, but it was sort of implied. I mean, if his insistence upon paying me back was anything to go by, I'd say he's grateful at the very least. But I wasn't really looking for a thank you."

"Of course you weren't. And I bet you told him you don't want him to pay you back, right?"

The redhead half-grinned. "This is why you're my best friend," he said. "You know me too well. But nah, I told him if he wants to hang out he can join us here, but if not, no hard feelings or anything."

"You think he'll show?"

The words were just barely out of Kaminari's mouth when the door swung open and Kirishima caught sight of a familiar tuft of ash blonde hair entering the building. He glanced over and, with an almost eerie feeling of fate washing over him, found it to be none other than Bakugou striding in with that same slightly hunched posture he usually had.

Kaminari's head swiveled in the direction Kirishima's eyes pointed. "Guess there's some truth to the saying 'speak of the devil', huh?"

"Guess so," Kirishima agreed in the same second Bakugou's head turned in their direction. As soon as he saw the redhead, he completely skipped over getting in line and crossed the room, stepping right up to their table.

"Oh hey, Bakugou! You made it!" Kirishima greeted immediately.

"Yeah, hey Dumb Hair," the blonde said, a hand dipping into his back pants pocket. "I brought your shitty money."

Halfway through getting ready to introduce Kaminari to him, Kirishima stopped, a frown pressing into his brow. "What?" he blurted stupidly.

Wordlessly, Bakugou fished a few bills from his wallet and extended them toward Kirishima. He merely stared at them for a minute before his eyes flicked back up to Bakugou's.

"I told you I don't want you to pay me back..."

"I don't give a shit, idiot. I hate being indebted to people, so just take the fucking money."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"Why the fuck not?"

"We've been over this, man. I'm sure you can use that money for something else, anyway. It's no big deal."

"What are you, a mule?" the blonde muttered.

Kirishima chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first one to say that. But it's fine 'cause I'm not gonna take your money. Just ask Kaminari—he's my best friend and he knows me better than anyone," he said, eyes falling back on said friend.

"Yep," Kaminari agreed as Bakugou finally looked at him as though he just noticed his presence. "Kiri's stubborn about stuff like that. No matter how hard you try, he's not gonna take it."

With narrowed eyes, the blonde looked back to Kirishima. "And what the hell would you do if I left it here and walked away?"

"Well I mean, I know what bus stop you use and that you go over to the hospital a lot to see your mom, so I'd find a way to get it back to you," Kirishima said simply.

With a somewhat irritated huff through the nose, Bakugou dragged one of the empty chairs out, its legs scraping noisily along the tile, and planted himself into it. "Fucking fine. Then I'm not leaving until you take the shitty money. Two can play the stubborn game."

Kirishima blinked at him, mildly dumbfounded, before saying, "Alright, then. If you're gonna hang out, we might as well have some introductions. Bakugou, this is my best friend, Kaminari Denki. Kaminari, this is Bakugou Katsuki. Guess it's probably safe to say we're acquaintances at the very least. Right, Bakugou?"

"Sure," the blonde mumbled.

"Nice to meet ya, man," Kaminari said. "I'm glad you guys found your wallet, and I'm sorry to hear about your mom."

Bakugou provided nothing more than a grunt in response.

"Did you just come from the hospital?" Kirishima asked.

"Yup."

"You probably visit every day, huh?"

"...almost," Bakugou quipped.

"How long has she been there?"

"Couple months."

"Damn. D'you know when they'll get to release her?"

"Nope."

"Hm. I'm sorry, man."

The blonde shrugged, thus ending the conversation for several long minutes. Kaminari and Kirishima pecked away at their keyboards during the silence while Bakugou's attention was occupied by his phone. The hum of the coffee shop kept most of the uneasiness away, but eventually Kirishima couldn't help speaking up.

"Kaminari and I are just gonna be doing homework and stuff. 'S probably gonna be pretty boring, so if you wanna head off, you can," he said to Bakugou.

The blonde's eyes lifted to his. "You haven't taken the money yet, so I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I don't give a shit if it's boring, anyway. I don't have anything better to do."

"I don't suppose you know much about the Vietnam war, do ya?" Kaminari joked.

Bakugou shrugged. "I might know some," he said.

Both Kirishima's and Kaminari's attention fixed right on him. "Really?" Kirishima asked, trying—but not succeeding—not to sound too surprised.

"What? I didn't hate school, and wars are interesting," defended Bakugou.

"Damn, you seriously think so?" Kaminari said. "They're boring as hell to me."

Bakugou sat back, twisting his phone around in his hands as a mild distraction. "It's cool to know why and how people decided to just fucking kill each other outta nowhere," he said. When no one said anything for a moment, his eyes lifted to Kirishima's once again and narrowed as soon as he saw his almost disturbed expression. "What?" he practically snapped again. "Stop looking at me like I'm some fucking murderer. I never said wars are good. They're fucking pointless, but that doesn't mean they're not interesting."

Quickly, Kirishima composed his features into a simper. "I guess you're not wrong about that, man."

"So you writing a paper or what?" Bakugou asked Kaminari.

"Uh... yeah, but I was only joking," Kaminari told him.

"Might as well tell me whatever the fuck it is you needa know," Bakugou sighed, "since I don't have anything better to do."

"You don't have to—" Kirishima began.

"Shut up, Dumb Hair. We've been over this," Bakugou cut in without even glancing in Kirishima's direction. It shut him up, though, and he relaxed back into his seat to stay out of their conversation about the war he knew nothing about.

Bakugou knew a surprising amount about the Vietnam war—and other wars, it turned out, as they came up in conversation that even Kirishima eventually jumped into, curious as to just how much Bakugou knew. Kirishima wasn't one who liked to jump to conclusions or assume things about people, but Bakugou truly hadn't seemed like the type of person to like school or be interested in something it taught. He'd even spat a 'fuck that' when Kirishima had asked him if he was in college, leading him to believe the impression further.

And yet there he sat, practically outlining Kaminari's essay for him. Before they knew it, an hour had passed, both Kirishima and Kaminari had finished their drinks, and Kaminari had two full pages of notes between his textbook, the internet, and Bakugou's (rather impatient) lecturing.

"Dude, can you be my tutor?" Kaminari blurted with a laugh.

"Fuck no," Bakugou said, sitting back in his chair after an hour of practically beating the information into Kaminari's skull. "Not unless you wanna pay me, anyway."

"Bro, I'm a broke ass college student. Not happenin'."

"Then nope."

"Heh, I was kidding anyway," Kaminari said, glancing at his watch. "Anyways, I gotta get home and make dinner." With that, he started stuffing his things back in his backpack. "Thanks for all the info, Bakugou. You probably just saved my grade," he said as he shut the zipper and stood.

The blonde shrugged a shoulder. "Sure."

"See ya, Kaminari," Kirishima said.

"Later, Kiri!" Kaminari called over his shoulder as he headed for the door. Kirishima's attention didn't return to the table until the door swung shut behind his friend.

"So are you gonna take this shitty money or what?" Bakugou muttered, nodding down at the money still sitting on the table between them.

"Nope," Kirishima told him firmly, shutting his laptop.

"Then I'm gonna keep bothering you until you do."

"You don't bother me. And it was super nice of you to help Kaminari."

"I'm not fucking nice."

The redhead chuckled. "If you say so, dude." Kirishima slid his computer into his backpack and zipped it. "Wanna walk to the bus stop together?"

"...whatever." Bakugou snatched the money off the table, crumpling it in his palm when Kirishima walked away from the table without taking it.

Kirishima was the one to hold the door for the other as they stepped out into the frigid air. The sun was already hidden away behind the buildings of the city and the sky was cast in a grayish blue light from its fading rays.

"So how come you know so much about history?" Kirishima asked as they walked side by side.

"Dunno. 'Cause it's not as boring as people say. Don't get why people hate it so much."

"Yeah? I'm the same way with math."

Bakugou's eyes cut in Kirishima's direction. "But aren't you an art person or someshit?"

"Yep. See, you're surprised, right? Lots of people say it's weird that I'm good at math when I like art so much, too, just like they're surprised that I suck at literature. They always talk about that whole left brain, right brain thing, but that's just a myth."

"Hmph. So what kind of dumb art do you do, anyway?"

"I like to experiment with pretty much anything I can get my hands on, ya know? I don't like to limit myself to one thing. But I guess if I had to pick a favorite medium, it'd be paint 'cause I really like using lots of colors," he said. "But I'm really liking digital stuff since my family put the money together for a digital art tablet last Christmas. I'm really bad at it, though," he admitted with a laugh.

"You gonna show me or what?" Bakugou said without so much as sneaking a glance at the redhead.

Kirishima felt himself nearly trip, his eyes widening in surprise at the other. "You... actually...?" he mumbled.

"What?" Bakugou muttered.

The redhead shook himself to regain composure before saying, "Nothin'. I can show you some of my stuff if you want."

"Did I not just say I do?"

Another laugh escaped Kirishima's throat just as they made it to the bus stop. Kirishima selected a spot near the end of the bench to sit, leaving enough room for Bakugou to plant himself beside him with his hands still stuffed in his pockets.

"All I have right now is what's on my phone," Kirishima explained, sliding said device from his jeans pocket. "I don't take my tablet out of my house 'cause I'm paranoid it'll get lost or stolen or broken or something. But... here." Having maneuvered his way into the photo album on his phone of his art—paintings, mostly—he held the phone out to the other who, with slightly shaking hands, took it from him.

Kirishima couldn't help gnawing a bit anxiously on the inside of his lip as he watched Bakugou tap the first picture and start swiping through them. He lingered on a few certain ones longer than others, but otherwise showed no signs of expressing what he was thinking. His face remained impassive, and Kirishima's stomach was tight as he wondered whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Bakugou kept hold of the phone for a while, going back and forth between the photos a few times until the bus squealed to a halt in front of them. Wordlessly, he handed the device back.

"They're not really my best," Kirishima told him as they boarded, paid, and sat down. "A lot of them are pretty old, and I keep forgetting to take pictures of newer ones once they're finished. Like I said, I have more on my tablet."

"You sure that shit's not your best?" Bakugou asked.

"Yeah. Why? Whattaya mean?"

"'Cause it was pretty damn good to me," the blonde said, leaning back in his seat. "No wonder you're a nerdy art student."

The eye-scrunching grin was spreading across Kirishima's face before he could stop it, and all at once the nervous knot in his stomach unwound itself and seemed to explode into butterflies. "Seriously? You think so?"

Bakugou's eyes, narrowed a bit, cut in his direction. "I don't say shit I don't mean, Dumb Hair. Why the fuck do you sound so excited about it?"

Kirishima shook his head. "It's just nice to have your hard work complemented," he said. "Thank you, Bakugou."

The blonde huffed. "Whatever." The remark lacked Bakugou's usual attitude, and Kirishima couldn't help hearing the implied 'you're welcome' in his tone. "Next time I wanna see some shit that is your best, got it? None of that half-assed stuff."

"Yeah, of course, man! I'll get some stuff on my laptop to show you tomorrow, okay? I mean, if you're gonna come hang out again tomorrow, anyway."

"Haven't paid your shitty ass back yet, so yeah, I'll be there."

Kirishima's face fell a bit. "I'm not gonna take your money no matter what you say, Bakugou. Like I said before, I want you to come hang out if you want to, not—"

"And like I said before, two can play this fucking stubborn game."

"...so you're saying that if you didn't wanna pay me back, or if I took the stupid money, you wouldn't come?"

Because Kirishima's eyes had scarcely left Bakugou since the bus started moving, he didn't miss the way Bakugou's shoulders stiffened or the way the muscle of his jaw rippled as it flexed and relaxed at the sound of those words. "Hard to say," he said, quieter now. "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't."

"Whatever you say man," Kirishima said. "I'm glad you came today, though."

For the first time since Starbucks, Bakugou met Kirishima's gaze head-on. "Are you always like this?" he mumbled.

"Like what?"

"I don't fuckin' know... open about your feelings and shit. Like, do you always say exactly what you're thinking or what?"

"Hm..." Kirishima's shoulders bounced in a shrug. "Yeah, guess I do. I mean, I know when to bite my tongue—usually—but I don't see any point in keeping everything held in all the time, ya know?"

"You're fucking weird."

"You said that yesterday," Kirishima chuckled. "I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"And how the hell d'you know that's how I meant it?"

"Well is it?"

Bakugou went silent for a moment, his eyes tearing away from Kirishima's. "Sure. I guess."

Laughing, Kirishima bumped his shoulder into Bakugou's as the bus rolled to a halt again. "I gotta get off here, man, but I'll see you tomorrow, right? Same time, same place?" he asked as he stood, the blonde's eyes following.

"Yup, guess so," he said.

"Sweet. Get home safe, okay?" Kirishima held out a fist for Bakugou to butt his own into after only a second's hesitation.

"Later, loser," Bakugou said just before Kirishima headed off the bus. He was still grinning, stomach full of giddy butterflies, as he made his way home.

~

Bakugou did show up the next day, much to Kirishima's satisfaction, and he spent a good half hour simply swiping through the art Kirishima had loaded on his laptop for him to see as promised. Because Tuesdays were the days Kaminari usually dog sat for his neighbors, Kirishima and Bakugou were left in their own company at the coffee shop, surrounded by the usual sounds and smells of the place.

Again the redhead had a hard time deciding whether or not Bakugou actually liked his art the way he'd claimed to the day before. Bakugou asked questions here and there, which Kirishima eagerly supplied answers to, but was otherwise completely unreadable. And Kirishima would be lying if he said that didn't make him nervous; all he could do to ease his nerves even a little was bounce his leg anxiously.

"So how long you been drawing, anyway?" Bakugou asked when he reached the end of the photo album.

"Since I was super young," Kirishima told him. "But I got really serious about it sometime in middle school when I took an art class with a really awesome teacher who told me my art wasn't like anything he'd seen before. Which... in hindsight, I kinda feel like he was just sayin' that, but it was enough to make me wanna keep up with it." He shrugged, nonchalant.

"He wasn't wrong," Bakugou said absently, clicking back through the album quicker than before.

"You think so? You really like it?" Kirishima said; even he could hear that the hopefulness he felt had bubbled into his voice.

"No, I hate it," the blonde deadpanned. "Yes, I fucking like it, you moron."

Kirishima sat up straighter, beaming. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

And it did. Kirishima seemed to ride the high of that simple compliment—from Bakugou, someone who didn't seem particularly impressed by much to begin with (and someone whose opinion Kirishima already valued, even if it was only due to the crush he was definitely developing on the blonde)—for the rest of the day, even after the two of them had gone their separate ways off the bus.

The following several days followed the same suit, with Bakugou meeting Kirishima and Kaminari at Starbucks, helping Kaminari with his paper (despite insisting he wasn't going to tutor him without payment) while Kirishima sat back and sketched a bit, coming up with concept designs for one of his finals.

For the entire week, not a day went by where Bakugou failed to slap the money down on the table—still and forever crumpled by the first day he'd snatched it up before they left—and tell Kirishima to 'just fucking take it already'. And of course, not one of those days did Kirishima fail to tell him 'not happening', almost always bearing a smug smile as he did so. Because of this, Kirishima couldn't help but wonder if that silly money really was the only reason Bakugou continued to show up, sit with him, and walk to the bus stop with him nearly every day. Couldn't help but wonder if it was really stubbornness that made him do it, or if it was something else entirely (like using the money as an excuse to hang out, though Kirishima wasn't about to start getting his hopes up on that one). He was curious, but too afraid to ask.

So he didn't. And so Bakugou continued to show. The days turned into another week, and the weeks slowly faded into a month. Eventually, the blonde stopped making a show of leaving the money on the table every day until he'd suddenly yank it out as though he'd forgotten about it, leaving Kaminari to be the one bringing up the excuse of it.

"Give it up, man," he said suddenly one day. "He's never gonna take it, and I think we're past the point that ya needa be using it as an excuse to hang out with us."

Both Kirishima and Bakugou stared at him for a moment, the blonde's back stiffening and the redhead's eyes wide. When Kirishima's eyes cut back to Bakugou, his jaw muscles were flexing and relaxing in an almost spastic pattern as they often did, and with the way his shoulders were squared and his hands gripped the edge of the table, Kirishima admittedly feared he was about to get up and storm off, just like that.

"Dude," Kirishima began just as Bakugou, too, spoke up.

"'S not a fuckin' excuse, loser," he grumbled. "I don't need an excuse to hang out with you nerds." As he spoke, he seemed to deflate a bit, which in turn allowed the redhead to relax as well.

"Hey, if we're nerds, doesn't that make you a nerd for hanging out with us?" teased Kirishima.

"What? No. I'm here to balance you idiots out," the blonde said.

"Nah, it makes you a nerd," Kaminari chimed in.

"Sorry, man," Kirishima said before Bakugou could jump in to defend himself further. "It's true. We don't make the rules."

Eyeliner smudged eyes narrowed at him, but Bakugou said nothing, leaving Kaminari room to say, "Welcome to club nerd!"

After that, it was a long time before Bakugou mentioned the money again, and when he did, it wasn't in front of Kaminari.

~

The last Friday of the month happened to be their first Friday free of studying and assignments with impending due dates, opening the night up for a tradition they hadn't carried out in months due to school work—movie night. Of course, it wasn't just any movie night; rather than agreeing upon a movie between the four of them (Kirishima, Kaminari, and Kirishima's two roommates), they elected to see the movie with the lowest audience rating and worst reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. The original plan had been to make fun of it, but as the tradition continued they found quite a few of the films weren't nearly as bad as they were made out to be.

And of course this particular Friday was to include Bakugou. After Kirishima decided to invite him, it didn't take much convincing to get Kaminari and his roommates—who of course heard about Bakugou but had yet to meet him—to agree. In fact, they were eager—they wanted to meet Bakugou (the 'infamous blonde punk they couldn't quite believe existed yet', as Sero had put it and the 'guy Kirishima's eyes sparkled for', according to Mina), and Kirishima, never having told them about his developing crush that even he didn't fully understand yet, couldn't help but wonder if he was that transparent. (And hell, did he hope not.)

Inviting Bakugou hadn't really been that difficult, though the entire time he was telling him the plan, he was so sure Bakugou was going to decline. In a split second he seemed to have pictured a million ways Bakugou might've said "Fuck no, I don't wanna see a shitty movie with a bunch of nerds."

Needless to say, it was a surprise when Bakugou's answer was actually a somewhat noncommittal shrug with a "sure, why not?"

"Really?" blurted the redhead.

"Why the fuck not? I ain't got anything better to do," the blonde mumbled. "So what time?"

"Uh... not sure yet. We usually buy the tickets in advance and I wanted to make sure I knew how many people were going before I bought 'em. But hey, how 'bout you give me your number so I can text you the details?"

Bakugou had done nothing more than hold a shaky hand out for Kirishima's phone, which he punched his number into, leaving Kirishima to save it as a contact. As he filled out the 'name' field, a small involuntary amused snort escaped his nose.

"What?" Bakugou muttered, peeking over the phone. Instinctively, Kirishma held it away. "What did you do, Dumb Hair?"

"Nothing," Kirishima said quickly, though his smirk never faded.

"Bullshit." Bakugou tried to snatch the phone from his grasp, but again Kirishima was a split second quicker. "What'd you set my name as, shit for hair?!" he growled, leaning across the table to try and get the phone from the redhead's grasp. Kirishima only laughed and stuffed the device into his back pocket just as Bakugou's fist snatched his wrist, that angry scowl wrinkling his entire forehead. "Tell me, dammit!"

"Alright, alright!" Kirishima laughed, holding up his hands (the one still held around the wrist by the blonde) in surrender. "Just promise not to rip my head off, alright?" he said with a grin.

"Fuck no. I'm not promising shit."

"Then I can't tell you."

Simply by the glint in his eye, Kirishima could tell Bakugou wanted to rip the smug grin right off his face. Still, his eyes held Kirishima's for a minute, flicking back and forth between them, until he finally relented, sitting back down and yanking his hand from Kirishima's wrist. "Fuckin' fine. I promise. So what the fuck was it?"

If possible, Kirishima's smile widened. "I put your name as 'Blasty.'"

Bakugou froze for a second before a pierced brow arched. "What the fuck does that even mean?" he grumbled.

"It's 'cause you get angry a lot, and in short little bursts like just now, and it kinda reminds me of explosions, or blasts. So, Blasty. It fits your personality pretty well, I'd say."

Dumbfounded, the blonde only stared at Kirishima for another for another few seconds before his eyes cut toward the window and he muttered a, "whatever."

Kirishima easily took that as a good sign—not that Bakugou necessarily liked the new nickname, but that he was at least tolerant of it. After all, he'd already unspokenly given Kirishima himself the nickname 'Dumb Hair', so they were even.

~

As expected, Kirishima's roommates were thrilled to meet Bakugou when he introduced them outside the movie theater. Mina, being the outgoing person she was, shook his hand (after he reluctantly let her) for a little too long, and only minutes after they'd all gone into the theater together, Sero was attempting to embarrass Kirishima, though to no avail. Any story he brought up, Kirishima was happy to contribute to on his own, quickly shooting down Sero's objective of getting him to at least blush a little.

"Dude, Kiri's an open book," Kaminari said to Sero just they settled into their seats. "You should know that by now."

Kirishima shrugged, grinning his usual, easygoing grin. "It's true. If you ask I'll tell you pretty much anything you wanna know."

To that, Bakugou gave him a skeptical, narrow-eyed glance.

"What?"

"Nothin'. You're fucking weird."

"How come?" Kirishima asked, grin a bit devious now as he finally challenged Bakugou's 'accusation'. By then, the others had moved on to another conversation amongst themselves.

"'Cause. I dunno. How the fuck can you be so open like that?"

"'S easier that way," Kirishima explained. "I don't really have anything to hide, anyway, and there's nothing wrong with expressing emotion. In fact, I think it's super manly."

Bakugou had stared at him for another moment before looking away, slumping a bit more in his seat. "Yeah, you're fuckin' strange."

Kirishima, of course, had a grin that never faltered.

~

After the first movie night with Bakugou, the two hung out nearly every day, whether it was at Starbucks while Kirishima needed to study (with or without Kaminari) or back at Kirishima's apartment. On days Kirishima needed quiet to study, Bakugou seemed perfectly content occupied with his phone no matter how many times Kirishima told him he didn't have to stay. (The fact that Bakugou did, though, made the redhead happier than he'd ever expected it to, and more often than not his stomach was filled with butterflies whenever the blonde was around.)

When Kirishima had art to work on, Bakugou would chill on the bench beside him and simply watch; gradually, it became a regular thing for Kirishima to ask Bakugou for his opinion on his art, and though something within him thought perhaps he shouldn't, he took those opinions (and suggestions, on the occasion Bakugou provided them) to heart. There would often be days—several times a week, even—where conversation between them was scarce. Kirishima would continually work on whatever art project he had going that week while Bakugou would sit quietly beside him, generally going back and forth between scrolling through something on his phone or watching Kirishima work, occasionally pointing things out here and there.

From time to time, Bakugou would end up leaning so far in to watch that he'd end up pressed lightly to Kirishima's arm. Though the redhead was acutely aware of it, he suspected Bakugou had no idea he was doing it. (And admittedly, he liked the warmth, the closeness, and he wasn't about to ruin that by pointing it out.)

On the days they hung out at Kirishima's apartment, it became a regular thing to lose hours playing video games, with or without Sero and Mina or occasionally Kaminari. When it got late enough, Kirishima would walk Bakugou back to the bus stop and wait with him until the bus left until, regardless of what time it was, he'd walk with him every day anyway.

Those same days—when they fell on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday—were the ones Kirishima began waiting for Bakugou outside the hospital after class. He never had to wait long before the sliding doors opened and Bakugou strode out, hands in his pockets, his face blank. The first day, it was evident he was surprised to see Kirishima waiting on a bench not far from the entrance.

"The fuck are you doing here?" he'd muttered.

"Waiting for you," Kirishima pointed out, very obviously. "I don't have any homework today, so I thought we could go pick up where we left off on our game."

In typical Bakugou fashion, the blonde grunted and, clearly expecting Kirishima to follow, started shuffling in the direction of the bus stop.

"Unless you don't want to?" Kirishima asked, sliding up to him.

"Why not? Ain't got anything better to do," said Bakugou.

And Kirishima had grinned, because he was quickly learning that Bakugou's 'not having anything better to do' meant he actually wanted to do it, he was just not the type of person to say so outright.

~

"So Bakugou," Kirishima said about a week later as they headed away from the hospital on an afternoon that was considerably warmer and sunnier than it'd been in weeks. "I have a surprise for you. Kinda."

"The fuck do you mean 'kinda'?" Bakugou asked.

"Well, it's... less a surprise for you and more one for your mom," Kirishima explained. "I found something at a thrift store yesterday that I think she'd probably like."

"And how the hell would you know?"

"Good point, but it's something any mom would like, I think. It'll be somethin' to brighten the room she's staying in."

"Just get to the point, Dumb Hair."

Kirishima paused in walking to slide his backpack off of his shoulders, crouch down to open it, and shuffle around inside for the brown paper bag he knew was hiding somewhere in the front pocket. He slid it out as soon as his fingers made contact with it and zipped the pocket shut once more before standing back up. Bakugou had stopped a few feet away from him, eyes narrower than usual as he watched.

"The fuck is it?" Bakugou muttered, eyeing the bag.

"Open it," Kirishima said, extending it in his direction.

As if he thought it might burst into flames, Bakugou pinched the top of the bag between his thumb and forefinger. Almost gingerly, he unfolded the flap and pulled the edges away from each other before peering down into it. Kirishima didn't miss the relaxation of his features as soon as he saw what was inside and dipped his hand down into the bag to pull it out by the string it hung on.

It was clear, in the shape of a teardrop, and not much bigger than a quarter. As it hung from the black string looped through a hole in its top, it caught the sunlight, casting pinpoints of multicolored light on both of them.

"It's a prism," Kirishima told him, grinning at the way it sparkled.

"I know what the fuck it's called," Bakugou snapped. His eyes didn't leave the prism, though, as it swung by the shaking of his hand. "Why'd you get this?"

"I told you, man. D'you think she'll like it?"

After watching it a moment more, Bakugou lowered the prism back into the bag. "...yeah," he said quietly as carefully rolled the bag up and tucked it gently into the pocket of his leather jacket, where he held onto it as they continued walking.

"Cool. I thought about flowers or somethin', but that's kind of cliche. Plus, flowers die, which is pretty depressing if you think about it."

Bakugou merely grunted before changing the subject, though the entire time Kirishima remained with him, he never removed his hand from his pocket.

~

Getting to know Bakugou over the course of those few months of hanging out at Starbucks, at Kirishima's place, and walking to the bus stop together brought a flare to Kirishima's life he hadn't known before—one that gave a little diversity to the mundane routine he'd been used to for months. More and more often they made more plans, between arcades, comic book shops, strip malls, and the like. Sometimes the plans included Kirishima's other friends while others they didn't, and Bakugou never seemed to mind either way. Kirishima started lending him some of his comics to read, to which Bakugou—unsurprisingly—scoffed again about him being a 'damn nerd' but took the 'dumb books' anyway (especially after Kirishima let it be known that those comics were a big inspiration for his art).

Before Kirishima knew it, it had been weeks since Bakugou had mentioned the money, and his crush had only grown exponentially.

Through all of their time together, it was easy to notice that Bakugou didn't talk about his mom much, and out of respect for him, Kirishima refrained from asking about her as best he could. Though when a question did end up slipping through here and there, Bakugou's answers remained vague. After asking whether or not she liked the prism, to which Bakugou replied with his usual and quick 'yeah', she wasn't brought up again for a couple of weeks. Really, though—Kirishima couldn't blame him for avoiding the subject as much as possible; surely it wasn't easy having your mother in the hospital for so long and being forced to live on your own while she was there. (It wasn't something Bakugou had blatantly told him, but something he'd picked up through all of their conversations, like he had with a lot of things about the blonde.)

Kirishima wasn't perfect, though, and even for him things tended to occasionally slip through the cracks. Somewhere down the line on a day when Bakugou's demeanor was fairly weary and his feet dragged along the sidewalk, a question he couldn't shake popped up, and before he knew it, it was rolling off of his tongue without the conscious decision to actually say it.

"Yo, can I ask why you don't visit your mom every day?" he asked. "I mean, why do you only seem to go three days out of the week? Not to be nosy... but I feel like you would want to see her every day, you know? I know I would."

Bakugou hadn't answered right away and as they were on their usual walk to the bus stop, his jaw muscles did that habitual flexing and relaxing thing. That day, too, was one of the days Kirishima had noticed that the shaking—in his shoulders and hands, mostly, the way it had been since day one—was as bad as he'd seen it since the first day Bakugou had been upset about losing his wallet. And unless Kirishima was imagining things, the blonde seemed paler, too, and sluggish. It worried him.

"...she says she wants me to have as normal of a life as I can and not spend all my time there or whatever," Bakugou finally mumbled in response, voice low. "She... she gets mad if I go every day, and I don't need her bitching at me all the time."

Kirishima had nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense, I guess."

They'd walked about another block and were nearly to the bus stop by the time he spoke up again, asking, "Hey, would it be okay if I met your mom sometime?"

"No," Bakugou said quickly—almost... too quickly. "They don't let anybody but me see her."

Again Kirishima nodded. "Alright, man. That's fair. Maybe when she gets out, then."

Bakugou didn't respond, and after that several more questions—ones he kept from asking out of respect for Bakugou and his mom—buzzed around in Kirishima's head. Why did they only let Bakugou see her? What was she sick with, and what was keeping her cooped up in a hospital for so long? How much longer would it be before they'd release her? It had been a couple months since Kirishima had met Bakugou, and he had no idea how long she'd been there before he'd inadvertently stumbled (literally) into the blonde.

Bakugou was unusually quiet on the bus ride toward Kirishima's stop, and the longer the silence dragged on the more Kirishima regretted ever asking about his mom. His shaking never got any better, either, and the redhead could practically feel just how tense he was merely sitting beside him.

In an attempt to dissipate the tense air, Kirishima spoke up. "Hey, so you wanna come over again today?"

The blonde didn't even look up. "No. I feel like shit."

Kirishima's chest felt tight just hearing those words. "Oh. Something I can do?"

Bakugou's response was nothing more than a small, sharp shake of his head.

"Alright. But hey, if it's about what I said earlier, I'm sorry. I'm sure it's rough," Kirishima was saying as the bus jolted to a halt at his stop. As he stood and slipped his arms into the straps of his backpack he continued, "If there's anything I can do, just text me, okay? Seriously—don't feel bad about it or anything, either."

Those dark red eyes, more tired than Kirishima had ever seen them, flicked up. "Yeah," was all Bakugou said.

It was hardly in Kirishima's nature to be able to leave Bakugou like that, looking almost like someone had turned on some faucet and drained all of his energy, but after his usual parting fist bump, he didn't know what else he could do. Just before exiting the bus he said, "Feel better soon, alright Bakugou?"

"See ya, Dumb Hair."

Even that nickname couldn't fend off Kirishima's worry and allow him to leave the bus with the smile he always had when he and Bakugou went their separate ways. There was a knot held in his stomach the whole way home.

---

Yaaay angst xD Anyhoo, I hope you enjoyed~ I apologize if the pacing seems a little funky; I tried my best to get it to a point that it seemed alright and I think I've just been looking at it too long so to me, it feels a little strange.

I'm hoping to have part three up sometime before or on Valentine's Day~

Thanks, guys~ TwT <3