Chapter Text
After the first day, Aizawa had decided that Eijirou shouldn’t go to class since the combination of twenty-one minds crammed into his head was causing him physical pain. At first, Eijirou has resisted, saying that he was strong enough, that he didn’t want to fall behind, but Aizawa reassured him that he would assign another student to bring him notes. Eijirou could see him running through a list of his friends in the class and marking off the ones he knew wouldn’t be able to give good ones, but he didn’t get to hear who would actually be giving them to him before he was excused and sent back to his room.
Now that he was actually away from everyone else, there was no denying himself the simple fact that he wouldn’t have made it through the school day. He could still feel a slight headache from the day before, and he didn’t want to have another episode.
The downside to skipping class was the lack of things to do. Since Eijirou had been excused by Aizawa, he felt like he should’ve been doing something productive, like studying. That mindset went absolutely nowhere- he couldn’t focus for more than ten seconds on something before starting to doze off, then jolting awake to find that he had absorbed none of the information he had just read.
Studying was out, so instead he tried training. He made it through about six push-ups before falling asleep on the ground and waking up thirty minutes later. After he woke up, he tried stretching instead, and blacked out while doing the butterfly.
Productivity was a flop, so he decided to go for things he liked doing instead. Watching Crimson Riot movies was a nostalgic pastime, so he settled on that and googled a bootleg. After trying studying and training, Eijirou probably should’ve noticed the theme in his failed attempts at doing things, but it took him missing the whole movie after only two minutes of watching it to concede to the inevitable- he needed sleep.
But sleeping made him feel guilty, like he was making everything up and using the day to slack off. He was supposed to be in class, with his friends, learning cool things about heroes and whatnot, but instead he was in his room hiding from everyone because he was too weak to handle their voices in his head. A simple telepathy quirk shouldn’t have affected him so much, but of course he had to take a day off and be left with his own thoughts.
Usually, and especially in these circumstances, that would be a comforting thing, but right now he felt like he needed a distraction. Too many things happened yesterday, and he was desperately trying to avoid thinking about them.
Maybe he really did need to sleep.
Guilty conscience or not, Eijirou decided that sleeping was better than facing his feelings about the previous day, so he closed his laptop and dragged himself over to the lightswitch to turn it off. Just having the lights off made him more tired. Hopefully, nobody else in the rooms near him was sleeping, because he really didn’t want another shared dream experience.
______
Hey, Kirishima, can you hear me? Open your fucking door, dumbass.
This was the third time Eijirou had woken to Bakugou’s thoughts, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he was irritated or pleased. On the one hand, he hated being woken up, but on the other, well.
On the other, it was Bakugou.
Kirishimaaaaaaaaa, Bakugou thought, open the goddamn door before I blow it up. I will do it, you know. Eijirou knew it wasn’t true; he could hear Bakugou’s worries about whether or not he was okay running through the back of his mind, and if he should just slide the notes under his door. And oh, now it made sense, it was Bakugou who was assigned by Aizawa to give him a copy of the lesson from class. It was the right choice, honestly- Eijirou loved his friends, but he couldn’t deny that some of them were dumb as shit.
He could hear Bakugou thinking about leaving when he finally decided to get up and open the door. The door revealed a slightly frazzled-looking Bakugou, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. What the fuck, his mind whispered, his hair is so- so-
“I have your notes, dumbass,” Bakugou stated loudly, breaking his own train of thought. Eijirou got the feeling it was on purpose, but he had no time to think about it before Bakugou muttered, “You didn’t- your hair isn’t all...spiky.”
Eijirou instinctively started to fiddle with a few strands of his hair. “That’s what happens when I don’t go to class, man. It’s a lot of effort to look that good.” Bakugou smiled -just slightly- and Eijirou almost fist-pumped the air in joy. Finally, a successful joke had been made. No more crying in this room, not today.
Bakugou’s small smile slid into a grin as he said, “I think you’re confusing noticeable with attractive, dumbass. There’s a difference.” And you’re both, Bakugou’s mind supplied, along with a customary, FUCKING SHIT.
Eijirou decided not to comment on it. “You know you can come in, right? You look hella awkward just standing there.” Bakugou nodded wordlessly, and walked into the room briskly with his head low. “What did you guys do today anyway? Was it anything cool?”
Bakugou grimaced. “Nothing you would really care about,” he mumbled, before passing Eijirou the notes without looking him in the eye. “It was just boring shit about hero history and whatnot.”
Eijirou looked over the notes and saw that while they were written with characteristically Bakugou language, they were intricately detailed and organized in a way that made them much easier to understand than his own usual kind of notes. “Holy shit, Bakugou, these look awesome. Did you take these notes and your own? How the hell did you find time for that?”
Bakugou snorted a laugh. “No, idiot, I only took those notes, I wouldn’t spend the whole fucking class doing two different sets of notes with that kind of quality.” His mind began to whisper some things, but before Eijirou could catch any of them, the image of an iron gate closing over his thoughts appeared. Of course, that didn’t last longer than a second or two, considering it wasn’t an actual mental block or anything; it only held as long as he kept the image.
“If you only took these notes, then what are you using to study?” Bakugou didn’t have time to reply before the memory of him taking pictures of the notes flashed through his head. “Oh, that makes sense,” he replied, but he didn’t miss the wince from Bakugou over Eijirou being able to see his thoughts so easily. Best to ignore it again until Bakugou was ready to talk about it. “Why didn’t you just keep these and send me the pictures instead?” Eijirou had hope the question would distract Bakugou from his discomfort, but instead it only got worse.
“I just- it makes more sense, since Aizawa told me to give them to you and all,” Bakugou said, voice tinged with a nervous edge, “And you always have a hard time studying or whatever, so I thought that you would get more use out of them, or- whatever.” It was clear from the thoughts clamoring in Bakugou’s head that this was not whatever, and Eijirou managed to catch a thread of, god please don’t know how much work I put into these please don’t guess it please don’t read my mind please don’t, please don’t, you can’t know-
“Aw, bro,” Eijirou crooned, “Did you make these extra nice just for me?” From the flush on Bakugou’s face and the loud curses overflowing from his mind, Eijirou was going to take that as a yes.
“Don’t fucking- don’t act like it matters or anything, it doesn’t, ” Bakugou insisted, but his thoughts betrayed him. “I just don’t want you to get kicked out of this damn class for failing.”
Eijirou grinned even wider, wider than he had since the first night of telepathy. “Too late, already taking it to heart. Already been noted; Bakugou Katsuki cares about his bro and wants him to have extra-special easy to understand notes because he loves him, already in my head. Sorry, man, the data’s been uploaded- you are now officially a softie.”
“Like fuck I am,” Bakugou snarled, but Eijirou could feel the affection from him deep in his chest. “I will never be fucking soft. ” As soon as he said that, memories from yesterday started pouring into his head, and Eijirou saw one particular memory that he didn’t share with Bakugou, a memory so powerful that he was sucked into it like it was his own.
_______
They were sitting in silence for so long that Katsuki hadn’t realized Kirishima wasn’t awake. Of course the fucker was asleep, a day like that would take a lot out of anyone. He looked so fucking tired, it was as if he hadn’t slept in days. One day of telepathy, and Kirishima went from his normal sunshine self to the walking embodiment of depression and anxiety.
It was too quiet with Kirishima asleep, but Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to leave his side. He hadn’t said anything, but Katsuki didn’t have to read his mind to know that Kirishima was afraid of being alone right now. He had probably felt isolated, and scared, and Katsuki hadn’t done anything , too focused on his own problems to help him, to even notice something was wrong. And of course Kirishima had shared his nightmare, of course he had, and now he seemed to think he had some kind of responsibility to make Katsuki feel better, when in reality, Kirishima owed him nothing.
If anyone had asked what possessed Katsuki to do what he did next, he wouldn’t have an answer. But he tightened his grip on Kirishima’s shoulders, and turned his head so that his nose was tickled by Kirishima’s hair, the hair that Katsuki always made fun of and regretted it every single time, even if it made the dumbass laugh. Katsuki gently pressed a kiss into Kirishima’s head, so light it almost felt like nothing, then wrapped his other arm around him to form a full-fledged hug.
“I’m not fucking abandoning you, Kirishima,” he whispered, “and I’m not letting you deal with this shit on your own. I care about you too much, idiot. So please, please, just- let me help you for once.”
___________
The silence that followed was not nearly as comfortable as the one from the previous night.
Bakugou was frozen, eyes too wide, fists too tight, and his breathing was becoming quicker and quicker. Despite the absolute storm of thoughts raging in his head, nothing came out of his mouth.
Eijirou was having a hard time thinking of something to say himself. What do you possibly say after that? Hey, so I know this might be crazy, but I actually love you, please go out with me? Absolutely fucking not. He’d rather say nothing than say that shitshow.
It was Bakugou who ended up speaking first. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go now,” he muttered, “Study those fucking notes.”
“Bakugou, wait-” Eijirou pleaded, grabbing his arm as he started to stand up and leave. “You can’t just leave after dropping a bomb like that, we have to talk about this-”
“What is there to talk about, Kirishima?” Bakugou spat, wrenching his arm out of Eijirou’s grasp. “That I like you? That I’m sorry? That I want to help you even though I feel like shit when you help me? There’s nothing to talk about because you just fucking saw it! ” His rant having ended, he turned to leave again before Eijirou could respond.
“Bakugou, wait- I said fucking wait! ” Eijirou cried out in frustration before running past Bakugou and slamming his door shut just as Bakugou started to yank it open. “You don’t just get to leave, not after that. That’s not fair to either of us. Get your emotionally constipated head out of your ass and listen to me.”
For once, Bakugou’s mind was completely silent. There was no static, no noise- his head was absolutely blank. If Eijirou couldn’t still feel the waves of shock from him, he would’ve thought the telepathy had suddenly stopped.
“I like you. A lot. I’ve liked you for, god, I have no fucking idea how long I’ve liked you. But I was too scared to admit it, first to myself, then to you, because I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you would reciprocate, and I was too afraid of losing you and our friendship to take that risk.” As Eijirou talked, Bakugou’s eyes got wider and wider, and the shock started to amplify. “I never thought I would tell anybody, especially not you. But then people started noticing, and I got even more terrified, because I didn’t want people to judge me, or worse, judge you. I never should’ve kept it from you, I should’ve told you up front, I’m- I’m so-”
Eijirou couldn’t finish his sentence, because suddenly Bakugou was kissing him, and he was kissing Bakugou, and the shock had been joined by a tender warmth in his heart.
When Bakugou broke the kiss, Eijirou could do nothing but stare- at the flushed cheeks, red eyes, soft blond hair falling in his face. He had never looked so beautiful. “I’m sorry,” Bakugou said, voice cracking, “I’m so sorry. For not being there. For not telling you. For not noticing. I’m sorry for trying to leave, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry.”
It was not every day Bakugou Katsuki apologized to someone, so the mere idea of the word ‘sorry’ coming from Bakugou’s mouth was one Eijirou had never imagined would come true. “Fuck, wait,” Eijirou said, furrowing his brow, “If I’ve liked you for so long, and you’ve liked me, then how did we let this go on for so long? This could’ve happened months ago.”
Bakugou swiftly went from a confused stare to disbelieving laughter. “Do you- do you honestly think we could’ve managed shit a few months ago? You literally had to read my mind to get me to admit my feelings, and- and that was after two whole fucking days of being telepathic!” His laughter became louder, and suddenly Eijirou was laughing too, and then they were hugging while laughing like lunatics.
“I can’t believe you couldn’t tell sooner, ” Eijirou gasped once he had caught a slight bit of breath, “I’m literally always following you around, even the 1-B kids noticed I liked you before you did!”
“How the hell do you know that?” Bakugou managed between giggles, honest to god fucking giggles, “The only friend you have in that class is fucking Iron kid, did he tell you?”
“No, no,” Eijirou wheezed, “I actually heard Monoma thinking about it during the joint training! Fucking crazy, right?”
“Wait, you- Monoma?” Bakugou’s laughter suddenly ceased, and an anxious worry started to radiate from his mind. “This was the joint training you ran from while fucking crying, yeah?” Eijirou nodded, and it dawned on him that they were about to have a serious discussion. “Was it that motherfucker’s fault?”
“Uh, not exactly? I mean, kind of, I guess, but- it wasn’t just him, you know?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes, and Eijirou continued with a tone he hoped sounded light and unbothered. “I mean, yeah, Monoma called me a fag, but there was other shit too, you know? People making fun of my costume, or my voice, you know, shit like that. Plus, it was just- really loud, so. Yeah. not just him.”
Bakugou’s hands were on Eijirou’s shoulders so fast, it was almost like he had developed a speed quirk. “He fucking what, ” Bakugou seethed, “He called you a fucking what? ”
“It’s not a big deal, man, I’ve heard it tones of times. It was just worse yesterday with everything going on. It was nothing.” Even as he said this, he knew it was a lie. It was a big deal, it always was. It had been a big deal since the first time he had been called one in fifth grade, and it would continue to be a big deal for the rest of his life.
“It’s not fucking nothing, Kirishima. I’m gonna make that bastard pay for that shit. I’m gonna blow his stupid fucking face off.” As Bakugou fumed, Eijirou started laughing again, casing Bakugou to stop ranting and stare at him, confusion fusing with the anger in his mind. “Why the fuck are you laughing, dumbass?”
“I’m- I’m sorry, it’s just- you really meant it when you said you wanted to help me, it’s adorable.” Now anger, confusion, and affection were coming off of Bakugou, so powerful it felt like everyone in the building should’ve felt it.
“If I didn’t like you so much, I’d be so fucking pissed at you for calling me adorable, ” Bakugou hissed, but the deep red staining his face plus his wildly shifting thoughts gave it away that there was no venom behind his words.
“But you are, you’re so cute, Bakugouuu~” It was too easy to get a reaction out of him.
“Shut your fucking mouth, I am not! ” Bakugou practically screeched, dragging his hands over his face in an exaggerated gesture of embarrassment. “I refuse to give you the satisfaction of me being cute. ”
“Once again, you’re too late, Bakugou,” Eijirou teased, peeling Bakugou’s hand’s off his face and bring them to his own. “I’ve found you cute for way too long to suddenly change my mind. Besides,” At this, Eijirou leaned in just a little bit closer, enough to make Bakugou’s mind stutter for a moment. “I’m telepathic right now, and I know you like it.”
“Shut up, oh my god, shut up ,” Bakugou wheezed, but there was a grin clearly present on his face. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
“Really? Because your thoughts say-”
“ Fuck you, Kirishima !”
Maybe this whole telepathy thing wasn’t so bad, at least with Bakugou’s mind.