bnha oneshots (vol 1)

010 ⋆ this is fine 🖤

ship: kiribaku

⋆

This is fine.

Distance is fine. Quiet is fine. The darkness Bakugou was currently basking in, back pressed against a cool wall with his blanket pooling around his waist--this was fine too. What wasn't fine was the muffled sobs he heard and felt through the wall presses against is back, and to be honest, he could've taken out his hearing aids. He could've ignored it, but couldn't; couldn't because it's the quiet cries of a literal ray of sunshine himself.

These evenings were the ones he dreaded more than the nightmares he experienced on his own accord, the traumas his subconscious occasionally reminded him of every now and again; Kirishima quietly sobs into his pillow for an hour or two and then he goes to sleep.

The redhead would show up to class the next day, hair gelled, uniform ironed, cheery-eyed and smile just as bright as it is every other day, a stark contrast of what Bakugou could only imagine he looked like when he cried. He never talked to the blond about it, so the blond never asked.

And it physically pained him.

They've been dating long enough for Bakugou to have questions, like why Kirishima waited until after 8:30, Bakugou's bedtime, to curl up against their shared wall and cry for a few hours before bed. Bakugou figured it's likely the redhead didn't want him to know about these sporadic upturns of sadness--that much was obvious--but the question that remained was the why .

Kirishima was always there for him whenever he'd wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, screaming and palms exploding. He'd come in a hurry, fiddling with the lock on the blond's door, and once he was in, he'd wrap him in his comforting embrace and tell him everything's okay--that he was here.

Why wouldn't Kirishima let him do the same?

Bakugou could begrudgingly admit he's emotionally inept; he blew up easily and spouted things that would rightfully put him in a place that no one would look to him first when it came to seeking affection and tender loving care. Kirishima never seemed to have a problem with his rugged, robust way of handling things even before they'd started dating. Reassurance was always shared in whispers between playful touches and fleeting kisses, so what made this different from everything else? What was it Kirishima couldn't share with him?

As much as Bakugou wanted to know, he didn't want to pry. He knew Kirishima probably had his reasons for choosing to keep these occurrences a secret, but the more Bakugou just let it happen, the more he enabled it by being a bystander, the more often it occurred until Bakugou found himself wiping streaks of tears from his face as he listened in agony.

And maybe the fact that Bakugou first caught him crying through the wall weeks ago was a sign that he could've ended this song and dance at the drop of a dime. Hugs and kisses and 'I love you's weren't a cure-all, but it was damn sure better than being alone to your own thoughts.

So, on a particularly bad night where the blond had fallen asleep early and awoke from a nightmare, he quelled his anxiety the same way the redhead had taught him for days just like this--days he couldn't be there to hold him.

Deep breath in. Exhale out. Whoosh . Inhale through the nose for a count of four, hold for seven, exhale out to a count of eight. Whoosh . That's one breath.

He only needed five.

Sure, his palms still secreted a threatening amount of sweat and his body trembled to the point it was hard to walk, but he could hear Kirishima crying on the other side of that wall and he'd be damned if they both suffered from what they suffered from alone tonight. So he throws his door open and bangs his fist on Kirishima's door, and as soon as the redhead opens it, he's scooping him up and carrying him right back to his bed.

They didn't need words. Kirishima cries as he buries his face in the crook of the blond's neck, and Bakugou keeps his lips sealed against the bare skin of his shoulder as he holds them together. Fists kneaded into fabric, skin was dampened with sweat and tears; the comfort came with the actions, not words. Hugs and temple kisses and 'I'm here for you's weren't a cure-all, but it was damn sure better than being alone. If they couldn't be strong by themselves, they could be stronger together.

And this is fine.