💚🧡Bakudeku & Kirikami One Shots❤️💛

Ruining Moments

❤💛

Here is a different love story from The Night We Met (for those who have read it)

AU:
Class 3-A
Warnings:
Mentions of Alcohol

Platonic? Naaaaa

[No one's POV]

Kirishima looks proudly at the couple swaying to the music, watching the heads turn, ash-blonde hair, followed by curly green and black hair, and then followed by ash-blonde again. He doesn't bother hiding the gleeful smile on his face, only flickering away to give a thumbs-up to Jiro, who nods her head in acknowledgment.

All the redhead had simply asked her to do was 'play something slow', and he'd expected nothing more than receiving a beautiful song from the music expert herself.

He decided to pry his eyes away from the two when they kiss, leaving them to a little privacy, and another slightly-quicker, but still soft, song plays next. To distract himself, Kirishima strides over to the drinks section, pouring himself a cup of punch that was strictly told by Aizawa to 'not contain any traces of alcohol' in, but was spiked by either Kaminari or Sero anyway.

It's not too bad though - they were all at least a few days from eighteen, if not then past.

A warm rush of the beverage in his stomach floods across his body, and he'd already felt a little bit more light-headed, his strong and bulky limbs feeling less of a hinderance. He wonders if he'd beat villains easier after taking a shot before each battle. Well, maybe not - he cringed thinking how wild the media would get upon finding out that the Red Riot was an alcoholic.

And he preferably wouldn't like beating up civilians if he ingests a little too much.

Either way, the thought was dismiss and he bins the plastic cup, pulling off his tie and knotting it around his head. He then undoes a few buttons, suddenly feeling hot and sweaty. Ok, maybe a few girls gawked at the small window opened to his chiselled chest, but Kirishima didn't care. Hell, he was there to have fun, and quite frankly didn't care if he was an embarrassment to society!

Maybe he was a little bit tipsy?

"Woah man! What the hell happened to you!"

Kirishima could recognise that voice, even if he was completely wasted. His supposed 'date'.

It wasn't abnormal for the two to go out for prom or dance dates, purely because everyone knew they weren't fooling anyone when disguising the face that every girl they try to hit on flatly rejects them. This was the third year running, after all.

"H-" he hiccups, "How much alcohol d-did you put in that punch?"

Kaminari snorts. "How much did you drink?!"

"Eh," Kirishima thinks, stroking his chin as he leans against the wall, "A pint?"

"Ah, fair," he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it weren't a bit deal, "The sweetness mainly overpowered the vodka, but I'm pretty sure you could taste the whiskey, right?"

Kirishima snorts, nodding his head. He was surprised that he wasn't falling over, because his alcohol tolerance was nowhere near as powerful as Kaminari's. Yes, Kaminari was that 16-year-old who uses fake ID's to get into bars and clubs and buying vodka from the store. So, naturally, his experience gave him better tolerance - Kirishima vaguely remembers him groaning with the pains of a hangover at least once a month during their first year.

"So," Kaminari continues, propping an arm against the wall and raising his eyebrows at the redhead, who does nothing but look back, "What's the plan?"