bnha oneshots (vol 1)

012 ⋆ when the music fades 🌸

ship: kiribaku

⋆

"Why the long face?"

Kirishima peels his eyes away from the action, tongue licking over his lips as he pulls his beer bottle away from his mouth He turns towards the source of the voice to see none other than Bakugou himself standing in the open, jeans tight and ripped up his thighs, tee a contrasting loose--free-flowing; his eyes are lined with a sharp wing, emphasizing his piercing stare. The colors from the strobe lights bathed his skin in soft cyans and pinks and greens, but the full moon behind him gave him an almost ethereal silver lining. He walks towards the redhead just as the corner of his lips curve as he shrugs. "Not much to smile about when there's a bunch of voices talking, but no one's really listenin'."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kirishima shrugs again, leaning back against the hood of his car, a hand pressing against its metal frame. It pops and dips under his weight and he disregards it, giving the ashen blond another half-shrug as he takes another swig of his beer. "Just tired, I guess."

Bakugou settles next to him on the hood, feet crossed at the ankle, arms crossed over his chest as he chews the ball on his lip ring. Together, they spectate the chaos that was Kirishima's birthday party, and by association, Tetsutetsu too. Most of their closest friends came to celebrate, opting for a takeover of a clearing off a broken path dead in the middle of the woods to set up shop and lose their minds until search and rescue came looking for them days later. It was loud, noisy, and everything in between. Bakugou figured this would be more of Kiri's speed, but apparently not.

He peers at him out the corner of his eye and takes in the details of his face that he's memorized over the years: the cuts and scars, a faint dusting of freckles across his nose and the expanse of his cheeks, cat-like eyes, and a jawline so sharp it could carve ice. His hair was comparably much longer than the length of was in high school, and it seems that he opted for a gel-free experience tonight, instead holding his mess of hair back with a thin band that looped behind his ears and exposed his heavy amount of ear candy. The ashen blond flickers his eyes back to the scene before them, however, smoothing his lips over each other before letting his head fall slightly towards him. "Of having friends?" he spoke.

"Not necessarily."

"Then what's the issue?"

"I guess it's just..." Kirishima pauses and taps his finger against the side of his bottle. "It's easy to bring people together, but once they start building their little micro-communities, 's hard to really realign yourself within these cliques."

Bakugou nods, but Kirishima's brows furrow as if what he had said didn't completely fulfill his thought process. "I guess what I'm sayin' is, I fit in so well that I'm not sure where I fit in amongst the chaos," he adds, "or maybe I never fit in, to begin with."

Ah. Bakugou nods again in full understanding. "Sorry to drop all that on you."

"It's... it's fine. I know how you feel," assures the blond. It's another relatively silent moment between them again as the night continues to unfold. The tempo of the music rises, and their friends pick up speed in their poorly calculated dance moves. At least they were having fun, though. Kirishima hums. "Ever felt the same way?"

"Tch, the opposite, really." Bakugou fiddles with the ring in his lip again, a sudden urge to touch something overcoming him. He could've just as easily touched the redhead at his side; he was close enough, their thighs were inches apart, shoulders kissing, featherlight; the ring was his safety net, however. "Never fit in, and if I do, there're limitations."

Kiri hums again as if he gets where he's coming from, and naturally, maybe he did. It was always easiest for him to open up to the redhead; to scream and yell, whether it be out of rage or a sudden, unprecedented burst of joy. For Kirishima, it was much of the same, too, and because of that, mutually expressing their feelings via quiet motions and whispering gazes developed into a cryptic language only they understood.

Except, of course, when it came to that thick wall of uncertainty.

"You know they're all here for you, right?" Bakugou says all of a sudden, and Kirishima glances at him again.

"Maybe." Kirishima grunts and settles his bottle in the tall grass bedding his front tire. "Let's ditch 'em."

They end up way off in the woods somewhere, not too far out, judging by the fading sounds of music maneuvering through the treetops. It's dark, but the moon blankets their trail in a silvery light, and after a few minutes of a comfortable, silent walk, their feet end up in softened earth beside a gently flowing creek. There's a large rock nearby--or perhaps a boulder; regardless, they end up scaling it and sharing the highest throne nature had to offer. The wind hits their skin different and the creek whispers and reeks of trapped rains and virgin earth; it twinkles like liquid diamond in the moonlight, so refined and undisturbed.

"You ever feel lonely, Bakugou? Even when you're surrounded by people?" The blond peers over at the redhead to see he's gazing up at the skies above, and again he savors all the features he's become so enamored with over the years. Plated with white gold and studded with ruby, he's a gem of his own perfectly flawed beauty.

"Not with you." Never with you. Kirishima's lips curl into a smirk, and he huffs.

"Ditto."

The creek brought a certain raw chill with it, a slightly gelid breeze that follows the current. They exchange a mutual warmth with the closeness of their bodies, though the outside of that intimate space dealt with nature's elements; it was like having a blanket that was just a couple of inches too short to fully cover the toes. Instinctively, Bakugou curls his shoes into each other and scratches his nails against the rock. "You ever wish you... had someone?"

"What, like dating?" Bakugou peeks at the redhead to see him staring at him fondly, grin playful. Still, the sudden attention has him turning his head away all too quickly. Kiri snorts and the sound makes Bakugou's heart staccato in his chest. "I mean, yeah, but you know it's complicated with being demi and all..."

"I mean, I could date anybody," he continues, shifting into a more comfortable position on the rock, "but I don't want just anybody--I want someone I know, someone close." Someone like you .

The chorus of crickets chirp in agreement.

"Ditto."

There's a rumbling in the distance, and the duo couldn't tell if it was an impending storm or another one of their friends' shenanigans. The trees whisper a suggestion of the aforementioned, and Bakugou huffs where Kirishima sighs. "I can hear your heart beatin' from here," Kiri says suddenly, and Bakugou feels himself tense from head to toe.

"W-what?"

"Just kidding." Bakugou elbows him and ends up being subjected to more of his joyous laughter. Kirishima's head lolls towards him when he sighs again, and the blond can feel the teasing kisses of the ends of his hair through his thin shirt, and maybe he was already staring into that red sea when Kirishima decides to tilt his head back to gawk at him for a moment. Maybe Bakugou felt himself gravitating towards him, skin making contact from their pressed together hands to soft lips on his. It's gently invigorating, like taking off stuffy sneakers after a long, hot day, or maybe more like stepping into freshly fallen snow barefoot and the chill wakes every nerve in your body.

Their eyes close to cherish the moment and everything else disappears; they're alone together, fully aware that the other will still be right beside them when the clouds pass over and the music fades.