#explodie

" ka.. kacchan i wanted to ask you.... “     his heart was racing. for some reason he found this nerve-racking. there midoriya stood, in front of his childhood friend. instead of conversing like peers, he was stuttering like a stranger. sure, bakugou always tended to put him more on the nervous side. and what he had in mind was going to inconvenience him . . .  --  but his determination was clear. he just needed to spit it out -- 

“ -- will you spar with me ?! “

Safety is an illusion he subscribes to on the rarest occasion. Relaxation, more over, has been a foreign concept for long enough that Shouto’s guard never fully lays to rest — AND YET (fortunate for Bakugou’s intentions) the common room is the only place both of these things ever coincide.

Hands appear wild, purposeful, and palm heavy in the roots of his hair and Shouto is caught off-kilter. The brevity of the fear comes from the immediate familiarity of Bakugou’s proclamation. Shouto knows the capability of these hands well and determines the attack, if mildly inconvenient, NON-THREATENING. His shoulders fall with relief, if still jostled by the fierceness of the Bakugou’s strength. The corner of his mouth twitches.

In the wake of it, fully disheveled, Shouto cants his chin up to peer at the upside-down face behind him and nearly slips a smile. Nearly. “I didn’t expect your friendship to be so tactile.”