Day 8

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Brrr. Brrr. Brrr.

Brrr. Brrr. Brrr.

Kirishima groaned, rolling over and patting his hand along his bedside table, searching for his alarm. The noise was loud, overly so, and he could feel his whole bed vibrating. Why would he set an alarm for a Saturday?

When his hand clicked the snooze, button, he sat up, groaning slightly and rubbing his eyes. There was a light filtered through the curtains that cast his room in a sort of muted glow, illuminating the scattered mess of his various books, clothes and, for some reason, a stray pillow against the far wall. His eyes flickered down and saw that Bakugo was sleeping in the most awkward position possible, one knee tucked up so far that it was brushing up on his nose, the other extended outwards so it stretched underneath Kirishima's bed. And, of course, he was missing his pillow.

Brrr. Brrr. Brrr.

Kirishima yelled in frustration, ready to throw his alarm clock over to join Bakugo's pillow, when he realised that that wasn't his alarm. After all, was the vibrations from his alerts strong enough to make Kirishima judder off his mattress and land on the floor?

Well, not on the floor. He landed heavily on top of Bakugo, the boy grunting loudly. It only took a moment for the blond to jerk upright, throwing his body to the side and sending Kirishima rolling off him.

"What the fuck?" Bakugo coughed, winded from Kirishima's fall.

Laughing, Kirishima got to his feet and offered his hand. "Ah, sorry bro. I forgot about the builders, and...well."

Bakugo surveyed his hand for a second, as if he half expected it to wrap around his throat and try to throttle him, then seemingly dismissed the thought and grasped it, using Kirishima to pull himself to his feet. "Fucking builders," he muttered.

They stood there for a moment, Bakugo with a scowl as he glared at the wall from which the noise emanated, Kirishima trailing his eyes over the way Bakugo's hair looked even more unkempt than usual this morning. Must have been one hell of a night, he thought. Then he felt a warmth in his palm, a tight grip, and his face flushed, cheeks turning a bright red, enough to match his hair. "Uh, Bakugo?"

Bakugo looked over and realised without Kirishima even needing to say anything, ripping his hand free and storming over to the en-suite door, disappearing inside and slamming it shut.

It took a moment for Kirishima to move, his gaze fixed on the closed door, before he realised that he may as well get ready for the day - it wasn't like he would be able to get back to sleep with that racket going on.

Clenching and unclenching his hand, the feel of Bakugo's calloused fingers on his skin engraved into his mind, Kirishima moved over to the dresser, pulling out various items of clothing. Judging from the last week or so, Bakugo would take anywhere from five minutes to half an hour in the bathroom, so Kirishima wasn't bothered about his speed of changing, as he lazily peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the side, pulling on a loose tank top and a hoodie over the top.

His eyes wandered, drifting over to the far wall to where Bakugo's pillow lay discarded. Frowning slightly, Kirishima abandoned the jeans in his hand and walked over. He stooped down and picked it up, the white fabric damp in his grip, and sweet smelling. He turned it over and his frown deepened.

On each side of the pillow were two large holes, burnt out in the centre. The sweet-smelling stuff was clearly Bakugo's nitroglycerin, and Kirishima wondered what on earth Bakugo had been dreaming about that had caused him to freak out and explode his pillow like this.

Suddenly realising that he didn't want to be caught snooping, Kirishima stood up sharply, leaving the pillow on the wooden flooring and walking quickly back over to his pants, sliding them on just as Bakugo came out of the en-suite.

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