#turntechgoddamnitt

The sofa trampolined under Kirishima’s weight as he slammed into the cushions, flinging his arms over Bakugou’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Bakugou slid his textbook over to his other knee with one hand, the other trying to shove Kirishima onto the floor. “What do you want, shitty-hair?”

“Bakugou, dude, you gotta help me.” Kirishima rolled over and stuck his right arm straight into the air, very narrowly missing smashing his palm into Bakugou’s nose. “Does this look infected to you?”

“Does what look infected? There’s nothing–”

“That cut! That cut right there!” Kirishima pointed insistently at the outside of his forearm, eyes wide and pleadingly worried. “It hasn’t healed up yet! I don’t even remember where I got it, it’s been days!” Sure enough, a line a couple shades too bright to be natural scraped up from his wrist.

Bakugou glared down at him for a moment. Then, with a huff through his nose, he leaned in, squinting so hard he definitely couldn’t see. “Well, let me see here,” he said in a distinctly un-Bakugou voice. It was high and nasal, mocking, but Kirishima couldn’t place who he was making fun of. Maybe it was him. “Mhm. Okay, I see. Wow. That’s fucking tragic. I diagnose you with idiocy.”

Kirishima lowered his arms, pouting. “If you’re gonna be rude about my death-wound, you are uninvited to my funeral.”

“Fucking fine, if you’re gonna be a baby about it.” Bakugou snapped the textbook shut and grabbed Kirishima’s wrist, yanking his arm back up. “It looks like just a dumb fucking cut.”

“Wait, wait, don’t touch it!” Kirishima snatched his hand back. “What if it’s contagious and I infect you too! Then we’ll both die!”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.” Bakugou managed to wriggle himself out from under Kirishima, dropping Kiri’s head onto the vacated spot unceremoniously. He backed up against the arm of the sofa and propped his textbook on his pulled-up knees. “If I did die– and that’s a big fucking if– I’d have only one regret, and it’s not flipping you off more when I had the chance. Speaking of.” Bakugou’s middle finger poked up over the edge like a particularly offensive bookmark.

Kirishima sat up. “But, like, it does look infected, doesn’t it? I should be worried, right?”

“No, you fucking moron, it looks like you nicked yourself with a razor in a feat of pure dumbassery, considering your quirk is literally to be impervious to cuts. Quit obsessing over it and get a damn bandaid.” Bakugou turned the page with a purposeful rustle of finality. “If you were really that fucking concerned you’d have already gone to Recovery Girl.”

“I guess you’re right,” Kirishima sighed.

They sat in silence for several minutes, the quiet gradually getting more uncomfortable.

Finally, Bakugou sighed. “What.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Imagine that.”

“Yeah. But I was just thinking that you’re a good friend.”

“What the fuck,” Bakugou stared a hole in Kirishima’s head, half a snarl twisting his lips.

“Yeah dude,” Kirishima smiled brightly, completely unaware of the temperature rapidly dropping. “You’re a really good friend!”

If Kirishima hadn’t been slightly smitten with Bakugou already, he would’ve missed the tiny downward tilt of his voice when he growled out a “Why?”

“Well, uh,” Kirishima could feel a blush working its way up his neck, so he steadfastly avoided meeting Bakugou’s sharp eyes. “I mean, you know me well enough to know when I’m just overreacting.”

“Probably because you’re bored.” Bakugou muttered, skimming the same sentence over and over without reading it at all.

“Exactly! That’s exactly what I mean. You know me so well. I swear I’ve never told you ‘hey, I get jumpy when I’m bored,’ that’s just a thing you know. That’s a thing only good friends notice.”

“Whatever. Go be bored somewhere else.” Bakugou sank into the sofa, adamantly refusing to stretch his legs out like he normally would, because that would land them right in Kirishima’s lap, and that was just a shade too familiar to keep up his reputation.

“But I like being bored right here!” Kirishima scooted over until his thigh bumped Bakugou’s feet, a teasing grin looming over the top of the textbook he was being ignored for. “Well. I don’t like being bored. But I do like being here.”

“Find something else to occupy your walnut-sized brain, I’m busy.” Bakugou kicked Kirishima’s side at about 7% power, enough to get him to wobble over with an oof, but not enough to keep him there.

“Y’know what I hear is really entertaining?” Bakugou grumbled in response, so Kirishima barreled on. His smile softened, shoulders relaxing, voice tinting dreamy. “Being in love.”

“For the third and final fucking time before I start fucking swinging, what the fuck!”

“Uh, so I’ve heard,” Kirishima said a little too loudly, the blush winning out in the moment of distraction and darting over his face. He put his hands up defensively, just in case Bakugou decided to come at him with the book. “Uraraka says it’s really fun to have a crush!”

“And you listen to Round-Face about that shit?”

“Sure, she’s smart about stuff like that!” Kirishima smiled broadly. Bakugou looked downright murderous; a small chorus of pops ricocheted off his fingers.

“Then go talk to her about it.”

“But you are my very good friend,” Kirishima said liltingly, that teasing grin back with a vengeance. He crossed his arms and leaned atop Bakugou’s knees, taking a small, unanalyzed delight in watching the lightning-fast range of expressions that Bakugou’s fiery face went through. “And you get bored too, don’t you?”

“Back up, or I’m going to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would and will and fuck you. Count of three, shitty-hair.”

“That’s how I know you are my very good friend, you give me a count,” Kirishima laughed. He felt more than heard Bakugou’s breathing stutter, his arms tingling with the contact. “I wanna fall in love. It sounds fun, right?”

“Sounds fucking complicated,” Bakugou growled back, planting one foot against Kirishima’s side again and shoving at 15% power. Kirishima actually slid back a couple inches, losing the balance of Bakugou’s knees.

“Aw, come on.” Kirishima swatted his leg to an annoyed grumble. He tried to forget that his ears were probably turning pink. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Why are we even fucking having this conversation? It’s a fucking Tuesday before goddamn dinner.” Bakugou snapped the textbook shut and sat up, eyeing Kirishima. “We have homework, and you’re in here being a fucking pest.”

“I’m bored!” Kirishima rubbed his arm absently, chasing the last of the touch-tingles away. “And dinner isn’t for another hour, so we can keep talking about th–”

“Hold the fuck up.” Bakugou’s hand shot out and closed like a vice around Kirishima’s wrist, dragging it up to his face and squinting.

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to do that,” Kirishima’s free hand flailed frantically.

“This,” Bakugou pulled his thumb over the ‘cut’ and scowled, eyes narrowed at the bright smudge, “is magic fucking marker.”

“Oh, really? Thank God, I was freaking out over nothing! Well, time to leave, bye forever!” Kirishima yanked on his own arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket with nervous strength.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou snarled lowly, face a crimson that rivaled the marker. “What is the fucking meaning of this?”

“Uh.” Kirishima gave up trying to force his blush down, especially when Bakugou couldn’t seem to put a lid on his own. “An excuse to get you to talk?”

“About what, you fucking meddling–”

“Anything, really,” Kirishima said immediately. “You’ve been kinda quiet for a few days, and you never tell anybody what’s going on. I was just trying to see if you were okay, what was happening, if I could, uh, help somehow?”

Bakugou glared at him, but somehow it lacked the usual heat– perhaps because it was already in use lighting their faces varying shades of red. “What makes you think I need your fucking help?”

“I’m not saying you need it, I’m just saying it’s available!” Kirishima wiggled his arm, still trapped in Bakugou’s steel grip. “Uraraka really did say that. She’s observant too, y’know, and you don’t seem to hate her after that fight at the Sports Festival, so I thought if I didn’t know and Kaminari didn’t know then maybe she’d have noticed something, but, I guess if whatever’s got you quiet is more complicated than I thought–”

Bakugou’s voice did that downward tilt again, and Kirishima’s heart skipped a beat.

“Doesn’t fucking have to be,” he muttered.

Kirishima drew an airless breath. “What’s that mean?”

Bakugou held his stare for an endless moment, then flung his hand away. “If you’re gonna keep being annoying and in here, at least get your fucking book and do the damn homework so you don’t flunk the fuck out.”

On pure instinct, Kirishima whined, “But I don’t waaaaant to!”

“Tough shit.”

At least Bakugou was talking again. Not about the warmth slowly making itself known in his chest– not that, not yet– but talk was talk, and that was worth something.

i hope that makes sense!! i forgot to take a screenshot for 6/7 so i just condensed it bc shooting stars arent necessary i suppose LOL also here is the star texture i use for the stars! i made it myself but u can download it from my dropbox

and here is also a process gif + the final product i made so u can see the steps in motion. if you have any questions do not hesitate to ask me!!