thank you for all of the kind birthday wishes last chapter TvT ♥

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Bakugou

Despite having practically flown home by going at least ten over the speed limit the entire way from Kirishima's the previous night and freaking out about his mom getting super pissy at him for getting home so late, Bakugou slept in until nearly noon the next morning. He'd, in fact, crashed almost as soon as he touched his bed and completely spaced texting Kirishima to let him know he made it home safely.

But Kirishima wasn't some overly-obsessed type of boyfriend, so Bakugou only woke up to two text messages from him the next morning, one at just after midnight:

>you home yet?

And the other about twenty minutes later:

>guess you fell asleep. Night, Katsuki ♥

In his half asleep state, Bakugou responded:

>yeah, sorry. Morning

With that, he dragged himself out of bed and toward the bathroom. Just outside of his room he was hit with the smell of his dad's pancakes mixed with strong coffee, the usual brunch they had on Sundays. He found himself swallowing considerably hard when he escaped into the bathroom to relieve himself and splash cold water on his face to wake himself up. He could already hear whatever bullshit lecture his mom was going to give him as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

He made sure to keep himself nonchalant, though, when he finally did wander into the kitchen, already half ready to swing out the door for work once he finished breakfast.

"'Bout time you got yourself out of bed," his mom said without taking her eyes from her phone from where she sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

"Morning to you, too," he muttered, flopping into his usual seat.

"You're just in time. Soup's on," his dad said from near the stove where he was expertly sliding omelettes out onto plates. "You'll have to get your own beverage, though."

Bakugou couldn't help feeling mildly suspicious as he poured himself a cup of coffee. They weren't scolding him. Weren't asking where he was last night or why he was home so late (not that they'd have known when he got home, anyway; they were both out cold when he snuck back in). His mom didn't even seem annoyed like he expected. What the fuck was going on?

It was quiet a minute as the three of them sat down and dug into their breakfasts. Bakugou honestly couldn't tell if the tense feeling was all in his head or if it was really there, and it caused him to shovel his food in quicker than normal to escape it.

But of course, leave it to his damn mother to speak up mid-meal and ruin his escape plan.

"I got some more school brochures," she said, reaching across the table and sliding just that in his direction. "Another mechanic trade school and a university that specializes in that department."

In that second, Bakugou felt his throat start to close. No, it wasn't the first time his mom pulled something like this; in fact, she was giving him flyers and brochures for schools every damn week. It was her way of nudging him in the side with her elbow and winking, saying 'hint, hint.' Up until then he'd just been stuffing them in the bottom drawer of his dresser to forget about. He was too busy with work and bike classes anyway, which gave him a valid excuse. Now that classes were over, though, there was little he could think of to get around her shitty nudging.

So, without saying a thing, he took the stupid brochures almost timidly. It felt like he was just humoring her when he flipped through one of them, hardly reading a word on the damn thing.

"What do you think?" she asked after a minute.

"'S fine," he mumbled around a mouthful, pushing the brochure away. "I'll... look at it later. I gotta get to work."

He hardly allowed for either of them to say another word before stuffing in the last couple of bites, downing the rest of his coffee and ignoring the fact that it was still hot enough to scorch his throat as it went down. He cleaned up after himself quickly and escaped to his room to get ready for work.

It fucking figured, he thought, that as soon as his classes were over people were ganging up on him with shitty questions about school. Don't get him wrong, it wasn't entirely that he didn't want to go; he sure as fuck didn't want to spend the rest of his life working as a busser in a shabby restaurant and he had enough interest in mechanics to take that route, but it all came back to Kirishima. It came back to how every damn day he could feel his emotional ties to the little fucker growing stronger and how, holy fuck, he didn't want to be apart from him. How he hated having to sleep alone after finding out what it was like to sleep with a warm, solid body breathing deeply beside him, to wake up to a sleepy guy smile and messy hair.

He wouldn't choose between Kirishima and school, because that choice was one he'd made the second he realized his dilemma. It was just a matter of easing the shitty guilt weighing on his own shoulders by telling his parents, and that sure as fuck wasn't something he was ready to do yet.

His parents were in the midst of cleaning up their meal when he wandered back out of his room, half empty backpack hanging from his right shoulder and already in his work uniform, minus the white apron they made him wear. If he had the choice he'd slip out unnoticed, but he knew he'd get an earful later for leaving without saying anything to them, so he hovered in the kitchen doorway.

"I'm off," he mumbled.

"Have a good day, Katsuki," his mom said absently as she was rinsing dishes in the sink.

"Your bike should be done sometime tomorrow afternoon," his dad reminded him. "We can go pick it up together, since you're off."

"'Kay," he mumbled, turning around. "Oh, 'm goin' to Kirishima's after work tonight," he told them absently on his way toward the front door.

"Have fun," they chimed together.

⚜️

There wasn't any relief in the tension withheld in his stomach until later that afternoon when the restaurant got so busy he couldn't think about anything but the job, which fucking figured. He was already suffering a headache by the time his break rolled around, and even then it wasn't really a fucking break because the conversation from that morning slammed him in the gut, reminding him that he had to make a fucking choice.

Bakugou knew he shouldn't have been so fucking terrified to tell his parents about his relationship. Despite what some may thought and how it probably looked from the outside, his parents loved him. They obviously wanted the best for him or they wouldn't be offering to pay for school without any shitty catches (...supposedly; he was still waiting for some sort of condition). His parents weren't exactly affectionate—not like Kirishima's mom was, with the hugs and the cheek kisses and all that—but they knew how to show they cared.

So it shouldn't have been a big deal. So fucking what if he didn't know what they thought about gay people? He was their son. Their only son. It shouldn't have even fucking mattered who he was dating as long as he was happy.

And, aside from all of this 'I have to tell them' bullshit, he was. He'd never been happier in his whole goddamn life. He actually had something to look forward to upon waking up every morning. Had a reason to find it in himself to actually smile and want to leave his house instead of sit in his room and eat away all of his free time with video games. He had someone he wanted to see as much as he possibly could, someone he wanted to spend every last ounce of energy he had making happy himself, someone who made him see that the world wasn't a complete shit show.

Bakugou kept telling himself that his parents would be happy for him for that. It was how they felt about each other, wasn't it? At least once upon a time or whatever? It shouldn't fucking matter what gender the person he loved was, they should get it.

...he hoped.

He went around and around in circles in his head after his break until closing time finally rolled around and all he wanted to do was plant his forehead into the nearest wall. He'd never stressed so much about something in his entire life, and he was trying not to worry about his hair going gray on top of everything else.

>hey, I'm off. Cool if I come over?

He sat in his car with the air conditioning one notch under being full blast while he waited for Kirishima's reply, his leg bouncing the entire time. It had only occurred to him about ten minutes prior that he'd told his parents he'd be hanging out with Kirishima but hadn't actually consulted Dumb Hair himself.

>I'm actually at Kami's. We're doing a Smash Bros marathon

>gotcha

>Come join, babe

Even Bakugou had to breathe a sigh of relief at that, and about a minute later he was pulling out of the parking lot, headed in the opposite direction of his usual route, towards Pikachu's.

⚜️

Bakugou did his best to bury his stress when he made it to Kaminari's. He shoveled in half a cheese pizza all on his own and it helped, especially considering he'd barely eaten anything since breakfast. It was easy to bury himself in the new Super Smash Bros game, too, and channel his frustration through it.

But even video games couldn't untie the knot in his chest or drown out the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind. He hadn't had a drink in over a year, but he'd be damned if a couple shots of vodka didn't sound great right about then...

"Hey, what's up, Baku?" Kirishima asked during a break when Kaminari had gotten up to use the restroom.

Of course Dumb Hair noticed—he was bound to eventually. Bakugou really did have trouble keeping his shitty emotions in check around the little fucker. Either that, or Kirishima was just that good at seeing right through him.

While Bakugou wanted to tell him, he fucking hated complaining. It wasn't like he was good with words, anyway, so he stayed silent a minute, rubbing absently at the patches of dry skin on his hands from washing so many dishes at work.

"You don't gotta tell me," Kirishima said when it was clear he wasn't going to get an answer. "But if I can help, lemme know."

Kaminari reentered the room only a second later, causing Kirishima to perk up. "Yo, you got any lotion we can use?"

Pikachu stopped dead in his tracks, his eyebrows raising. "I mean yeah, but I'd rather you guys do that somewhere else—"

"Not for that, dude!" Kirishima jumped in, laughing. "Baku's hands are dry from work."

"Ohh," Kaminari chuckled. "Yeah, in the bathroom. I'll go—"

"Nah, 's good, dude. We got it." Kirishima was halfway to his feet when he spoke and he waved Bakugou along with that big, dumb grin of his. Getting the hint, Bakugou moved to his feet to follow.

Much to Bakugou's surprise, though, Kirishima didn't start bombarding him with questions the second they got into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind them. He merely hummed like the damn dork he was as he reached up into the cabinet for a bottle of lotion and held it out. With a light scowl, Bakugou held his hands out and let the other rub the lotion into them one at a time.

"'M not a baby, Ei," he grumbled.

"C'mon, just lemme do something to help you feel better," Kirishima said.

"What?"

"Y'know how my mom's a massage therapist?" he asked as he turned Bakugou's right hand over and gently began to massage his palm with a thumb.

"Yeah..." Bakugou muttered, skeptical.

"I've picked up a few tricks. 'M not very good, at least not in comparison to her, but I figure touch might help you be less tense."

"I'm not tense," Bakugou denied automatically.

"Mhm, and the sky isn't blue," Kirishima said easily.

There was only another scoff from Bakugou before silence fell over. Kirishima didn't look away from Bakugou's hands as he gently massaged them with his slightly calloused fingers, nor did that stupid, gross, adorable tiny grin fade from his rosy lips.

"Fucking fine, I'll tell you," Bakugou scoffed.

That got Kirishima to look up. "I said you didn't have—"

"Remember what you asked me yesterday? About whether I've decided about school or whatever?" Bakugou cut in.

After a second of hesitation and a light swallow, Kirishima nodded, merely threading his fingers through Bakugou's to signify he was listening.

"Well my freaking mother brought it up at breakfast this morning, too. She keeps fucking prodding me about it because I haven't given them a straight answer, and you know why, and I can't stop fucking thinking and worrying about it." A huff blew past his lips at the end and, in embarrassment, he kept his eyes on the fluffy green rug below Kirishima's feet.

"I think that's pretty normal, Katsuki," Kirishima told him softly, in that mellow tone that always, always got to Bakugou. "Everybody's scared to come out, especially to people like their parents. You never truly know how they're going to react, y'know?"

"So what, you were scared, too?"

"Still am," Kirishima admitted, turning and leaning back against the sink. "I haven't told my mom yet. And trust me, when I do, you'll be the first to know."

It was Bakugou's turn to swallow, and with each it only felt like the lump in his throat was growing. Fucking figured.

"But you know your mom will love you no matter what. She's told you she doesn't care who you like or whatever."

"I know. But it's still nerve-wracking. I'm not trying to downplay your situation but... there's no way to know if your parents will support you unless you tell them, you know?"

"...yeah," Bakugou sighed. "Same way the other way around. Won't know they won't fucking hate me unless I just go for it."

"They won't hate you," Kirishima insisted.

"You can't know that for sure."

"You're right. I can't." Kirishima stood up straight again, holding more firmly onto Bakugou's hand. "But if for some stupid reason they don't accept you, you know you've got a place to go and a family who does care about you. You've got somewhere to go, Katsuki, no matter what."

Bakugou's free hand came up, swiped across his face, and he blew out a long breath. "Don't make me get all fucking emotional and shit, Dumb Hair," he grumbled. "I've had a long ass day as it is."

A light chuckle escaped Kirishima's chest and, just a second later, Bakugou felt a warm, familiar set of arms were finding their way around his waist. And fuck, it was so easy to mold right into them, to return the stupid embrace as much as Bakugou had never been a hugger in the past, and let Kirishima place a gentle kiss on his lips.

"You're the best fucking boyfriend in the entire goddamn universe," Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder.

"I think I could agree with that but only if you didn't exist," he said. "But then I'd be miserable."

"...whatever, loser. Let's go back with Pikachu before he starts suspecting we're fucking in his bathroom."

"Katsuki!" Kirishima hissed, tensing up.

"Calm your ass, Ei, I was kidding."

Kirishima was still blushing as Bakugou replaced the lotion in the cabinet and was turning to pull the door back open. When he did, though, the other tugged back on his hand.

"Hey," Kirishima said, catching Bakugou's eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I will tell my mom about us. If it helps you feel better about telling your parents, I mean."

"...that's on you, Ei," Bakugou told him. "Don't do some shit you're uncomfortable with just because of me though, got it?"

"Got it," Kirishima said.

Bakugou kept his last thoughts to himself as they rejoined Kaminari—the thought that, with the disgusting feeling he had in his gut surrounding this whole situation he'd much rather avoid, Kirishima would have to tell his mom. And soon.