A Work In (No) Progress…

"What are you doing here?" Bakugou asks, his voice listless and flat and Hitoshi gulps, the fear and confusion over seeing Bakugou like this, at this place, making it hard to breathe.

"I should be asking you that," Hitoshi gives back and shuffles closer, close enough that Bakugou's shoulder is brushing his middle. "Why are you out here?"

"Doesn't really matter," Bakugou gives back and inside of his head, Hitoshi screams, because it does, it does matter, because he needs to know what to say to get him away from that ledge but he can't do that, lest he scares Bakugou into falling off in shock.

"Seems to me as if it does," he replies instead, aiming for nonchalant and probably missing by a mile if the scoff Bakugou lets out is anything to go by.

"Just ask," Bakugou mutters after a long, tense moment and Hitoshi lets out a measured breath before he sits down next to Bakugou, but with his back to the drop, linking their arms together so he can stop him at any moment.

Bakugou doesn't protest, doesn't scoot away, doesn't mention the touch at all and Hitoshi remembers him to be more bitey than this, more feisty, more averse to touch and this only keeps getting more and more worrying.

"Why are you out here?" Hitoshi asks once he's certain Bakugou can't just slip his arm out of Hitoshi's and Bakugou leans forward, looking down below him and Hitoshi's heart stumbles in his chest, even though he's reasonably sure he could keep him on the roof with him.

"I poured every cent I made for the last few years into the stupid suit," Bakugou mutters and Hitoshi frowns.

"The suit for Midoriya?" he asks for clarification, because he has been out of the country and therefore mostly out of the loop but he thinks he remembers reading something about this in the group chat they still have.

Some suit that is specifically designed to imitate One for All, so that Midoriya can still work as a hero, even though the ember has long since flickered out.

"The fucking suit for fucking Deku," Bakugou says and while the words are his usual brand, his tone of voice is not.

It’s quiet and defeated and doesn't hold any of the fire it usually does and Hitoshi wonders just what the hell he stumbled into here.

"He—didn't want it?" he carefully asks because why else would Bakugou be this upset over it but Bakugou lets out a rough breath.

"Oh no, he took it. And then decided he would be better off as a teacher anyway," he bitterly gives back and suddenly his head whips around to Hitoshi and there's anger in his gaze, but mostly, he seems lost and defeated. "He could have a place at my agency and he just shot it down," Bakugou hisses and fists a hand in Hitoshi's suit. "He shot me down!"

"Oooookay," Hitoshi slowly says because that still doesn't explain why Bakugou is sitting here at the ledge, clearly contemplating jumping off and Hitoshi very much feels out of his depth here.

"He's moving on without me and I—" Bakugou cuts himself off, staring harder at the street below them and Hitoshi tightens his grip on him on instinct.

"And you—?" he prompts and Bakugou lets out a bitter laugh.

"He's figuring out who he is without me and I—I just want to forget," Bakugou admits and his eyes slide over to Hitoshi.

He's glad for it, right until Bakugou speaks again.

"You can make me forget, right? Erase Deku out of my memory?"

Hitoshi freezes. It's insane, what Bakugou is asking and Hitoshi actually has no clue if he's able to do that to a person.

He can control them, but he doesn't know if he can alter their memories. He never even thought to try that, never even thought to explore that part of his quirk because it's wrong and he's shying away from it on instinct.

"I—" he starts and then stops because he has no idea what to say to not send Bakugou flying off this roof. "I don't know," he finally admits and then decides to be honest anyway. "And even if I could—I wouldn't do that."

"Why not?" Bakugou asks and there's some of that familiar anger in him again and Hitoshi is almost glad for it. "Why the fuck would you not just do it? Just take this from me. Just make me forget all of that!"

"No." Hitoshi's voice snaps through the night and Bakugou rears back as if he hit him. "I will not be doing that."

"Useless fucking bitch," Bakugou hisses and Hitoshi makes a very conscious decision to not take it personally. "I have no idea who I am without Deku by my side, so why won't you just—"

"Then maybe it's time you figure it out," Hitoshi interrupts him because this cannot be healthy.

This obsession between these two cannot be healthy at all and it's probably bad as hell that it's been going on for so long, especially if a deviation of their thing sends Bakugou immediately to contemplate suicide.

"I'm asking you to help me with that," Bakugou argues and Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but he keeps his arm firmly around Bakugou's, in case he tries something stupid.

"No, you're asking me to take the work on for you and I am not going to do that. You’re strong and stubborn. You can figure out who you are without me having to take half of your personality away."

There's a beat of silence where Bakugou’s ruby red gaze bores into him before he eventually says "I hate you."

"Tell that to someone who cares," Hitoshi glibly gives back but he doesn't move away, doesn't leave Bakugou alone to do whatever he stupidly thinks is his only option.

"Yeah, well the one I would tell that to doesn't fucking care," Bakugou mutters with so much venom that Hitoshi is surprised it's not dripping down his chin and he doesn't actually know what to say to that apart from "Then find someone else."

Surely, one of Bakugou’s friends must qualify for late night heart-to-heart. Kirishima or Sero or even Mina. Surely they would be more than happy to be there for Bakugou.

Silence settles back over them and Hitoshi wonders if they are at the stage yet where he can suggest moving away from the ledge but before he can do that, Bakugou speaks up again.

"He hooked up with Roundface," Bakugou says, his voice nothing but a whisper between them and Hitoshi blinks in surprise.

"Midoriya and Ochako?" he asks and bites back on the instinctual 'good for them' because he doubts that's what Bakugou needs to hear right now.

"Deku and fucking Ochako," Bakugou says, spitting her name out as if it burns him and Hitoshi's eyes go wide.

Oh dear. Oh, this was not what he was prepared for. He always thought the thing Midoriya and Bakugou had was fucking strange but he never, ever clocked it as anything romantic. On neither side, actually, and to have this secret revealed to him now makes his head spin.

"You—" Hitoshi starts and is almost glad when Bakugou interrupts him because he has no clue where that sentence would have gone anyway.

"Don't. Don't even start," Bakugou threatens but when his gaze cuts over to Hitoshi again, there's something in it that sends a shiver down Hitoshi's back. "You could help me at least forget that," Bakugou says and then leans in and Hitoshi is too shell-shocked to stop the kiss from happening.

It's not—good, that's for sure, mostly because Hitoshi is slack with surprise and when Bakugou moves away, there's anger on his face.

"Come on, troll doll, you at least know how to fuck, right?" he demands to know and Hitoshi finally finds his mouth again.

"Hell no," he says because this is not happening.

He's not going to be some shitty rebound for a thing that never even happened in the first place and before Bakugou can make fun of him for his ill-timed answer—he does know how to fuck, thank you very much—Hitoshi activates his quirk.

"Sleep," he orders Bakugou, who immediately slumps against him, breath slow and even, and his body melts like putty against Hitoshi's side.

This is bad. This is so fucking bad, Hitoshi thinks, and he's probably in for a very violent death once Bakugou wakes up again but—it's not as if there were many other options for Hitoshi.

He couldn't just leave him, he couldn't go along with what Bakugou was asking him to do and he couldn't fight it out without having to fear that Bakugou deciding life wasn't for him after all and now he's left with a ball of rage and hurt and sadness passed out against him.

"Shit, shit, shit," Hitoshi mutters under his breath because what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Well, he's not going to figure it out on this rooftop in the middle of the night, that one's for sure, but he also doesn't know where Bakugou lives so that leaves him with precious few options.

"Well, you're getting into my bed anyway, lucky you," Hitoshi mumbles as he hefts Bakugou up on his back, because he's not going to leave him here and so his own apartment is the only other viable option.

And Hitoshi is not so petty as to deposit Bakugou on the couch once they get there, because his couch fucking sucks for sleeping on it and it's not as if Hitoshi is going to get even one minute of shut eye anyway, with everything that happened, so tucking Bakugou into his bed is an easy no-brainer.

Hitoshi very decidedly does not think about the kiss, or the way Bakugou's breath felt against his shoulder, or how he snuggled into Hitoshi's sheets and instead sits on the couch for the remainder of the night, staring off into nothing and keeping his thoughts carefully blank.

Right until there's a slight shuffling behind him and the heat of a thousand burning suns falls onto him.

"Bakugou," Hitoshi says without turning around but he can imagine the face Bakugou makes because this is awkward as all hell.

"Don't," Bakugou bites out and the shuffling moves to the door, which Hitoshi really cannot allow.

"Bakugou," he says again, with more vehemence and he finally turns to look at Bakugou, who looks just about like Hitoshi expected.

Mainly as if he would wish to be anywhere but here, which—yeah, Hitoshi can relate, but he can't leave it like this.

"Don't say a fucking word," Bakugou snaps but he doesn't move again and so Hitoshi takes his chance.

"I'm not going to make fun of you, but I'm also not going to be your damn rebound fuck, or whatever," Hitoshi rushes out and watches how Bakugou goes bright red in the face.

"If you tell anyone about this—"

The threat hangs in the air between them and Hitoshi doesn't have to be a genius to infer what Bakugou might do to him should he so much as even hint to this to anyone but Hitoshi has no intention of doing so.

"I wouldn't. I won't. And I can't do what you asked me to do, either of those things but—I'm here. That's all I'm saying. If you need someone to—I don't know, I'm just here, okay?" he awkwardly offers and Bakugou blinks a few times before he abruptly turns around and stalks towards the front door.

"Fuck you, troll doll," he snaps right before he leaves the apartment and Hitoshi lets out a long sigh.

This could have gone better for sure, but then again, no one died and no one did anything that night they might regret in the morning, except spill some embarrassing secrets but Hitoshi thinks they'll live.

And that's all Hitoshi can ask for.

(That believe only gets cemented when Bakugou is back that very same night, shitty beer and self-cooked food in his hands, like an offering, like an apology, like a fucking plea and Hitoshi lets him in without comment.

They don't talk, not really, not that night, but it happens again and again and again, and eventually words flow between them like rivers, secrets get spilled, fears unearthed and when their lips meet again, months and months after that very first time, it no longer feels like a shitty rebound or a desperate attempt to flee.

It just feels right.)

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