A week passes, messy, but it passes.
Katsuki doesn’t spiral every night any more, sometimes the panic still hits but it comes in waves instead of avalanches. He trains, he sleeps, he pointedly ignores every stupid boner he gets. He doesn’t avoid Kirishima outright anymore, either.
Neither of them mentions the confession again, they sort of just dance around it. Side-by-side during drills, shoulder-to-shoulder during briefings. They get close enough that Katsuki is constantly so damned aware of Kirishima, but not so close that it tips him over the edge into anxiety. Through it all Kirishima keeps his word, he’s steady and patient, never pushing for anything more.
Change scares Katsuki more than the villains ever did, because changes means risk and it means he could lose what’s solid between them. It means admitting that something inside has shifted and he doesn’t know how to wield it yet.
He’s still terrified, but he’s trying, too.
On a Friday he somehow ends up in a simulated earthquake zone, standing in the shadow of a half-collapsed building with dust hanging thick in the air and alarms wailing somewhere in the near distance.
“Unstable structures, multiple aftershocks,” Aizawa’s voice crackles over the speakers. “Rescue priority. Watch your footing.”
Katsuki cracks his neck, his adrenaline settling in where it belongs. These exercises have become a piece of cake. This he can handle, it’s all just fire, debris and danger, the rules are simple here. Familiar.
Kirishima moves to stand beside him, he’s already hardened himself against the bits and pieces of rubble that periodically skitter down from somewhere high above them. He speaks as his eyes scan the damage around them.
“Take left, I’ll clear the way.”
“Like hell,” Katsuki snaps automatically. “I’ll blast clearance.”
Kirishima grins—he looks as stupid as usual, Katsuki’s heart does not flutter—“That works too.”
The building groans around them as they push deeper inside, Katsuki uses precisely controlled blasts to clear the way. Always making sure that he doesn’t put too much into it, causing a secondary collapse isn’t something he should make the mistake of doing. Not this far into his training. He’s hyper-focused on his task as Kirishima follows behind, keeping an eye out for any survivors.
Everything’s fine for a while. Then Katsuki’s brain utterly betrays him, as if here and now is the place that it just has to. It feels like such a stupid, small thing to get hung up on but it affects him anyway. Inexplicably.
As the other man moves before him into a slightly more open area, Katsuki watches him move. Simultaneously torn between the aching awareness that Kirishima trusts him with his life, and the view of the others bare back, muscles shifting beneath tanned skin.
Katsuki hesitates for half a second too long as the building shifts with another violent aftershock. Kirishima’s voice echoes along with the sound of a deep, violent crack overhead.
“Bakugou—!”
The world lurches as a secondary collapse tears through the ceiling above, concrete and steep screaming as it gives way. Katsuki looks up just in time to register falling rubble, feels the sparks in his palms—
And then Kirishima is there, slamming into Katsuki and shoving him back as his quirk flares into his full, hardened form. Debris crashes down around them as dust explodes into the air. Something massive slams into Kirishima’s back pinning them both against a partially intact wall.
The impact knocks the air out of Katsuki's lungs. Kirishima’s too, if the heavy ‘oof’ he gasps out against the side of Katsuki’s face is anything to go by.
Everything’s dark for a second and when his vision clears Katsuki realises they’re stuck.
Pressed tightly together. Chest to chest.
Kirishima’s braced over him with one arm planted beside Katsuki’s head and the other curled protectively around his shoulders. The rubble has them boxed in—too close to maneuver, too unstable to blast free without making it worse.
“Katsuki,” Kirishima says urgently, breath close and voice strained. “You hurt?”
Katsuki sucks in a sharp breath to answer but freezes as he feels the pull of his body reacting. It’s harsh and immediate and utterly unmistakable.
“Oh—shit,” Katsuki gasps, panic flaring white-hot from his cheeks to his chest.
"Don't move!" He snaps, voice breaking.
Kirishima freezes instantly. "Okay, I'm not moving," he says, confused but compliant. "What's wrong are you pinned?"
Katsuki's breath is coming too fast and he's struggling to hide it. He can feel everything. Kirishima's weight, the heat and solid press of his body pinned between Katsuki and the rubble. His own reaction is so painfully obvious to him that he's sure Kirishima must feel it too.
Aizawa's voice comes over the coms but its buzzing, quiet, and so laden with static it's hard to tell what he's saying. "Kirishima, Bakugou, status?"
It takes Kirishima a moment to figure out what's been asked, but when he does he answers instantly after another glance over at Katsuki. "Yeah we're good. But we can't move without causing another collapse.
"Got it, a rescue crew is coming to dig you out now."
Katsuki is still internally panicking enough that he's glad Kirishima dealt with that. Because if Kirishima moves it'll get worse and he'll definitely notice if he hasn't alrea—too late.
Kirishima's eyes widen and Katsuki knows he's caught. It doesn't help that the way Kirishima's looking so much more intently at him now makes Katsuki's dick twitch against the other mans thigh.
Kirishima goes very still, he doesn't pull away—not that he can right now even if he wants to—and he's silent for a beat that seems to last for an eternity.
"…Oh," he murmurs.
'Oh'. That's it. Fucking 'Oh'.
Katsuki's grip tightens on Kirishima's biceps, knuckles white. "Don't say it," he growls, mortified. "I didn't… I can't—I don't know why…"
Kirishima swallows and his voice stays low and steady in a way that is not helping Katsuki in the slightest. "Hey, it's okay."
"No it's not!" Katsuki hisses. "This is—I told you I'm messed up."
They're in the middle of a training exercise for fucks sake. He hopes any cameras nearby monitoring them are broken. Hopes Aizawa can't see or hear them right now, because it's bad enough that Kirishima can feel his dick trying to break out of his pants. What a stupid situation to get turned on in, and for something as mundane as being stuck against someone.
Then again it's not just someone. It's Kirishima. in all his half naked goddamn glory. Why is his hero costume so exposing.
"You're not messed up." Kirishima says quietly, leaning in close to speak against Katsuki's ear. Probably because he's got the same thought about Aizawa. Thoughtful as ever.
"And you didn't do anything wrong."
Katsuki's breath stutters. "You shouldn't be… this close."
Formulating words is harder than usual with his mortification and the distracting shift of Kirishima's chest against him every time the other man takes a breath.
"I didn't plan on a building collapsing on us," Kirishima says gently, almost apologetic. Then, softer, "are you okay?"
Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and uses every fibre of his self control to keep his hips from shifting against Kirishima's leg.
"I don't know." Vulnerable.
Kirishima shifts just enough to ease the pressure slightly but it makes Katsuki gasp, as if his treacherous body hadn't embarrassed him enough.
"Gh—Just stay still," Katsuki mutters with urgency. "Please."
"Got you," Kirishima says without any hesitation.
They stay like that, breathing each others air with the dust still settling around them and the building creaking ominously overhead. Katsuki tries to focus on counting each breath but makes the mistake of glancing at Kirishima's face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are focused upwards, somewhere above them, as his body trembles with the effort to keep himself propped up and away from Katsuki's body as much as he can with however much weight is currently sitting against his back.
It doesn't help Katsuki's situation at all, but it does add another layer of guilt. Which is what finally, finally, starts to help his body calm the fuck down.
Just time time, too. As rescue crews start breaking through the debris to help them out.
When they're finally free Kirishima steps back immediately, giving Katsuki space with a soft smile and a roll of his shoulders. Shaking out the stiffness that had no doubt settled into his muscles. They're quickly checked over for injury before the rescue crew leaves.
"You scared me," Kirishima sighs.
"Why?" Katsuki swallows hard, then "I mean… Sorry."
"Eh? For what?" Kirishima asks.
Katsuki looks off to the side, his jaw tight. "Spacing out."
Kirishima shakes his head as his smile broadens ruefully. "You're human, it happens."
"Not to me." Katsuki mutters under his breath.
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Let's get out of here."
Standing amid the wreckage with dust clinging to them and their lesson all but failed wouldn't amount to much of anything at this point. Better to call the whole thing a bust and get cleaned up since the lesson ended over half an hour ago.
No doubt Katsuki was due a particularly disapproving glare from Aizawa when he next saw his teacher.
Dinner had been less awkward than Katsuki was anticipating. With a stroke of luck the camera closest to them had been knocked out by the collapse and the pocked of debris they'd been stuck in blocked any others. The coms had been working but interference made most of what they'd said to each other undecipherable.
The dorms are quiet in a way that only happens late at night.
Not the soft and comfortable quiet of people winding down, but the heavy kind. The kind that's far too conducive to deep, troubling thoughts. Or memories of another body pressed tight against yours.
Katsuki's sitting on his bed with his boots kicked off but sweat pants and tank top still on. Staring at nothing as he mulls over the days events over, and over.
The collapse—he still felt stupid for standing there like a dumbass and needing to be 'rescued'.
Then there was the feeling of Kirishima's body colliding with him and pressing hard against him. Solid and unyielding, shielding him without hesitation. The worst part obviously being the way Katsuki's body had betrayed him during it all. As if his brain had absolutely no say in the matter.
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, groaning under his breath. "Get it together," he mutters. "You're eighteen, not thirteen. This is fucking ridiculous."
Of course it doesn't help. Not one bit.
A soft knock sounds at his door.
Katsuki freezes because he knows who it is before the second knock comes.
Careful and uncertain.
Too damn considerate to be anyone else.
"Katsuki?" Kirishima’s voice is that same low timbre that does shit to him. "It’s me. You don’t have to open up if you don’t want to. I just wanted to check on you."
Katsuki stares at the door like it might explode, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Of course his first instinct is to tell him to go away, to retreat into the safety of anger and solitude where things make sense. But he thinks of earlier, of rubble and pressure and Kirishima not moving when Katsuki pleaded with him not to.
He exhales and it's slow and shaky. "…Come in," he mutters, half hoping Kirishima won't hear him.
He does, of course. The door opens quietly.
Kirishima steps inside and closes it behind him with care, like he’s afraid of making too much noise. He’s out of uniform now, standing there in a t-shirt and sweats, his hair still slightly damp. Real.
Too goddamn real.
"Hey," Kirishima says softly.
Katsuki doesn’t look at him. "You said I didn’t have to—"
"I know," Kirishima says quickly. "I’m not here to push you. I just wanted to make sure you’re actually okay after earlier. Not ‘Bakugou okay.’ Just… normal okay?"
Katsuki huffs a weak, humourless laugh. "You’re bad at leaving things alone. Asshole."
Kirishima grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Guess I am."
There’s an awkward beat where neither of them knows what to do, then Katsuki jerks his chin toward the floor. "…Sit. Or don’t. Whatever."
Kirishima does.
They end up on the floor beside the bed with their backs against the frame. Bodies close but not touching.
Katsuki braces his hands against the floor at his sides, his fingers splayed like he needs the grounding and his shoulders tense. Rigid.
As the silence stretches Katsuki only becomes more aware of Kirishima. It's not uncomfortable, exactly, but it feels like one wrong move will shatter whatever the hell is going on right now. Turn it into something unbearably more awkward and unfixable.
"About today…" Kirishima starts, then stops, then sighs and starts again. "I don't want to make it worse, it's just—"
"I zoned out." Katsuki blurts.
Kirishima turns to look at him head on, but doesn't crowd him. "For a second," he says gently. "Then you snapped right back."
"That second could've got you crushed," Katsuki hisses. "You shouldn't have had to—"
"I'd do it again," Kirishima cuts in with no hesitation.
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is?"
Katsuki stares at the floor and tries not to clench his teeth too hard.
"I let myself get distracted. If it was a real rescue mission someone could've died."
The words hang there, heavy and dripping with guilt. Katsuki didn't elaborate on what his distraction was. The fact that it happened was bad enough.
Kirishima just sits quietly, continuing to listen.
"Everything's changing," Katsuki continues. "I didn't even notice it happening and now I can't shut it off and it's turning me into an idiot."
Kirishima nods slowly but looks a little confused. "Okay. But you're not one. An idiot, I mean. Like at all."
"T'ch." Katsuki moves his hands to rest in the cradle of his crossed legs, clasping them together tightly. "I don't understand what I'm feeling. And my body keeps—reacting to shit. Without my permission. I hate it, I hate not being in control of it."
He doesn't know why he's suddenly full of things to say. Blurting everything out seems like the least sane thing he can do. But he does it anyway.
Kirishima's voice is still soft, it always seems to be that way when they're alone together now. "That makes sense."
Katsuki scoffs. "No it doesn't."
"It does," Kirishima insists. "Wait—"
Katsuki jolts at the sudden exclamation, turning his gaze to Kirishima.
"What distracted you?" Kirishima's tone is full of something Katsuki doesn't want to try and name but his brain does it anyway. Hope.
"Nothing! Shut up." He knows his face is bright red now, can feel the burning in his cheeks and ears as he jerks his face away.
"But—"
"Argh! I said shut up!"
He could literally shrivel up and die right now with how embarrassed Kirishima's breathless, hopeful tone makes him.
"I don't want to hurt you," Katsuki continues before Kirishima can open his mouth again. "Or lead you on, or make you think I'm more sure than I am. I just—I want you to understand…"
It isn't a reciprocation of feelings, not openly. Not yet. But Katsuki thinks that's probably what he's hurtling towards faster than he can keep up with.
Kirishima looks down at his own hands. "I do."
Katsuki finally looks at the other man. "You do?"
Kirishima smiles, its small but sincere. "Yeah. I do, I understand."
Katsuki stays quiet, so Kirishima continues.
"I don't regret telling you," he adds quietly. " And I don't expect you to figure yourself out overnight, or just for my sake."
Katsuki exhales and his shoulders sag a fraction. "You're too good."
Kirishima chuckles softly. "I've been told."
Another silence settles in between them, not awkward at all, just sort of tentative.
Both of their hands are resting on the floor now, Kirishima's is close to his between them, not touching, just there. Katsuki becomes far too aware of it and his pulse ticks up, breaths coming slightly quicker.
He keeps his eyes forward, pretending he doesn't see Kirishima's fingers inching closer. It's slow and deliberate, like he's giving Katsuki every chance to pull away.
Katsuki doesn't move.
Kirishima hesitates. Then, carefully—bravely—he places his hand over Katsuki's. He can feel the way Kirishima's fingers tremble where they sit against his own and Katsuki feels less embarrassed about his breath hitching.
Still, he doesn't move away. His fingers are tense beneath Kirishima's, but after a moment he forces himself to relax. He also forces himself to ignore the heat he can feel high in his cheeks because he knows that mean's his face is red. Over fucking hand holding.
They sit like that in the dim light of his room for a while. Neither of them saying anything. Katsuki thinks it's probably because they're scared of the calmness shattering, or something.
He wonders if Kirishima can feel how much his heart's racing whilst they sit there. Wonders if the other man can feel how sweaty his palm is when Kirishima gingerly threads their fingers together and gives gentle squeeze.
After a while longer, Katsuki mutters. "You're not supposed to make this so easy."
He's not really sure what he means by it. Half just wanting to fill the silence so he's not stuck in his head and panicking. Half wanting Kirishima to know it's… nicer, than he'd anticipated. Holding hands, that is.
Kirishima glances at him. "I'm not trying to make it easy, really… I just, I wanted to try." he can see Kirishima biting his lip from the corner of his eyes. "Is it okay?"
"It's okay." Katsuki responds, hoping he doesn't sound too gruff. He's just embarrassed, really.
He turns to stare at their hands, taking a moment to disentangle their fingers so that he can turn his palm up, then he intertwines their fingers again.
His throat tightens but he speaks again anyway. "I've never… worked like other people. I think." He's not sure how to explain his lack of romantic and sexual interest in others. he's never really even had to think about it before.
Kirishima's thumb is gently rubbing his. "You don't have to be like other people. Just be like you."
Katsuki scoffs quietly. "You're not bothered by that?"
"No," Kirishima says without hesitation. "I like you, not an idea of you."
“That might mean nothing happens,” Kirishima continues. “Or it happens slow. Or it looks different than what people expect. I’m okay with that.”
The honesty in his voice makes Katsuki’s chest ache.
“…I’m scared of wanting something,” Katsuki says. “Because once I do, I don’t know how to let go if it breaks.”
Kirishima nods, expression serious. “Then we won’t rush. And if it ever hurts or gets too much, we'll deal with it together.”
Together.
The word settles deep and heavy and warm.
Katsuki closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the bed frame. His shoulders finally drop completely, tension easing out of him.
After a while he mutters, barely audible, "I don't regret you telling me."
Kirishima's breath catches. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Katsuki says. "I just need time to figure shit out, properly."
"You can take all of it."
"All of it, he says." Katsuki huffs a soft laugh.
"Yeah all the time in the world." Kirishima's grinning.
They sit there until the room feels less heavy, until Katsuki’s heartbeat slows to something manageable. Eventually, Kirishima shifts, not pulling away, just adjusting so they’re more comfortable. His shoulder pressing against Katsuki’s. Katsuki stiffens instinctively, then forces himself to relax again.
They don’t fall asleep like that. Kirishima leaves eventually, reluctantly, after making sure Katsuki’s okay. But the warmth lingers long after the door clicks shut.
Katsuki lies back on his bed, staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours as the heat in his hand where Kirishima had touched him seems to linger on.