Work Text:
Hab - it /ˈhabət/
(noun)
1. a settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up.
–
They"re sitting in the common room, mindlessly flipping through their algebra textbook, pretending to do work when Bakugou slams open the stairwell doors with a crash.
"Dude, what the hell, man?" Kaminari hisses, rubbing at his shirt where he"d spilled the juice pouch he had been attempting to balance on his forehead. "My juice!"
Bakugou just sneers at him, letting his lips curl back until Kaminari is breaking eye contact. He walks over to the coffee table where Kirishima is hunched over, practically drooling onto his notes as he flickers in and out of sleep.
"Oi. Shitty hair." When there"s no immediate response, Bakugou pokes at his thigh with his foot until Kirishima"s head snaps up so fast they can all hear his neck crack.
"Wha–"
"Kirishima. Go to dinner with me."
"Huh? Oh, Bakugou, hey," Kirishima answers, covering a yawn with one hand. "When"d you get here?"
"Doesn"t matter," he grunts, rolling his eyes. "I said go to dinner with me. And wipe that drool off your face."
"What, like right now?" Kirishima asks, rubbing absentmindedly at his face. He frowns at his hand when it comes away slightly damp. Yuck. "It"s only like, five in the afternoon."
"Whatever, later or something. Are you coming or not?"
Kirishima nods quickly, picking up on the impatience in Bakugou"s voice. "Yeah, sure, of course! I"ll meet you at the dorm entrance in a couple of hours?"
"Yeah, okay, whatever." With that, Bakugou stomps away, going back to presumably continue his angry and smirky charade in his room or whatever it is that Bakugou generally does when he"s alone.
When Kaminari raises an eyebrow at him, Kirishima just blinks back in confusion. "What? Did you want to come, too?"
"Yeah, right," Kaminari snorts. "No fucking way am I getting in the middle of that."
Frowning, Kirishima tries to shift his focus back to studying, but before he realizes, two hours have passed with only a ten percent productivity rate. He has discovered that turtles can have astoundingly long necks and that babies are born without kneecaps, but his homework lays largely unfinished to the side.
"Alright, I"m off guys. Please try to be a little more productive than me so that I can copy off of you when I get back," Kirishima announces as he stands up, wincing when his knees crack loudly.
Sero flips him off and Kaminari whispers, "Yey," into the air so Kirishima resigns himself to the fact that he"ll have to labor through his worksheets on his own time.
In the meantime, his stomach is rumbling so he steps out the dorm entrance and finds Bakugou waiting for him.
"Hey! Baku… gou…" Kirishima finds words fleeing his brain altogether as he takes in the sight of Bakugou standing there, hands stuffed in his jean pockets. Rather tight and ripped jean pockets. Guh, his mind helpfully supplies. Kirishima"s eyes may or may not linger on Bakugou"s thighs, but they"re just so manly that he can"t possibly tear his gaze away. He"s also wearing a button down shirt. Kirishima honestly didn"t even know Bakugou owned button down shirts. It"s black, like the rest of Bakugou"s casual wardrobe but still button down shirt. (okay this sounds better than what i already had LMAO it was like three am)
"Took you fucking long enough. Now let"s go," Bakugou says, not even bothering to look up from the ground as he stalks on ahead.
"Sorry! I was just trying to get some work done," Kirishima explains, shaking his head in a poor attempt to clear it. "So, um."
"What? Spit it out already, shitty hair."
"You, ah. You look nice!" Kirishima says, grinning. "I feel way underdressed all of a sudden," he says, looking down at his cargo pants and plain shirt.
At that, Bakugou glances sharply back at him and frowns, "Shut up. You look fine. You look good."
"Oh," Kirishima says. He just blinks, not really sure how to respond to that.
"You always look good," Bakugou mutters. He speaks so quietly, Kirishima isn"t convinced he"s said anything at all and they walk on in silence instead.
Kirishima finds himself relaxing in Bakugou"s presence as the silence settles comfortably around them. As much as Kirishima loves to talk, he finds that with Bakugou, they communicate well enough with even the simplest of gestures. So when Bakugou grabs his hand and tugs him to the right, towards the gates leading outside instead of to the left where the dining hall is, Kirishima finds himself raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"Uh, hey man. My dude, my bro, Bakugou. Care to explain where we"re going?"
Bakugou grunts and vaguely gestures towards the edge of campus. "Out. I got permission from Aizawa. Quit fucking worrying about it."
Kirishima cocks his head before shrugging, "I mean, I"m not worried. Just curious." Maybe it"s the red glow of the sunset reflecting on Bakugou"s pale skin, but Kirishima could swear there"s a slight blush tinted on his cheeks.
"Wanted to go somewhere," Bakugou pauses, his voice getting low and growly in a way that, on anybody else, Kirishima might identify as embarrassed, before he continues in a mumble, "Nicer. And stuff."
Kirishima"s gut does a little loop in his stomach and he has to look down at his feet to not trip over his own Crocs. "Oh, man," he says out loud. "Is it far, though? I think I might be a lot hungrier than I originally thought."
Bakugou shoots him a look before rolling his eyes and grabbing his wrist, "Come on then, idiot. Why didn"t you say something sooner?"
–
"So?" Kaminari asks, forcing Kirishima down onto the couch when they return. Bakugou has already stomped upstairs in the small amount of time it took for Kirishima to cross into the living room and he allows himself to be pulled into his awaiting circle of friends.
"So what? Did you get any farther on that math worksheet?" Kirishima asks, leaning back into the folds of the couch. After such a filling dinner, he kind of just wants the warmth to envelop him into a nice post-meal nap.
Kaminari waves off the question, discreetly shoving a largely unfinished worksheet under a pile of other, similarly blank worksheets on the coffee table. "Not important."
Sero fills in for him then, poking Kirishima in the side, "How was dinner though? Did he take you somewhere nice? Did he pay?"
Kirishima yawns and scratches at his neck lazily, "Man, it was so good. We should all go sometime! It was an all you can eat meat place. Meat, man. So good." As full as he is, Kirishima finds himself subconsciously swiping at his mouth to check for drool. "Not too far from campus either, we could easily walk there, you know?"
Ashido makes a face at the string of spit that"s making its way down Kirishima"s chin and hands him a napkin. "Yes, but did he pay?"
"Ugh, I mean I offered to split the check, but Bakugou was just so manly and got the bill before I could even look at it," Kirishima sighs. He"s weeping a little, internally. Spending your money on others is just so manly.
Ashido gasps and Sero squeals. (Mostly because Ashido is literally gripping his bicep with a lethal force. Mostly.) "He paid, oh my god, you know what this means?"
Kirishima frowns at them for a second or two before his face lights up in understanding, "Oh man, I should totally buy Bakugou dinner next time to pay him back!" (oh okay, sounds good! Sorry haha i just got back from a trip and my minds a little loopy)
He"s too busy Yelping "spicy food near me" to notice the three identical winces on his friends" faces.
–
From then on, it becomes something of a regular thing, or at least as regular as can be fit into the schedule of heroes-in-training. After a long week of training, internships and homework, either Bakugou will come down into the common room and tch around the kitchen until Kirishima"s ready to go stuff his face with pork ramen, or Kirishima will drag Bakugou out of his room and they"ll race each other to the spicy curry place down the street from UA.
Every time they leave, Kaminari waggles his fingers and eyebrows until Jirou wraps his wrists against themselves with her earphone jacks. Every time they return, Sero winks at them in a strangely malicious way that Kirishima can"t really make sense of.
Tonight"s no different as they walk back up the hill to UA slowly, bellies filled and their faces flushed from the heat of the spice. Kirishima"s nose is still a little sniffly and he smiles when Bakugou disappears into a convenience store and comes back out with some tissues and a bottle of yogurt.
"Here, it"ll help with the spiciness," Bakugou grunts, shoving it at Kirishima"s chest.
"Thanks, man," Kirishima sniffs out. It"s times like these when he"s really able to appreciate how much their relationship has progressed from that first day of class. "Ugh, I"m really not looking forward to that English essay we have for Mic."
Bakugou glares at him and Kirishima tries to think of what he"s done wrong. "That essay is due Thursday."
Kirishima blinks. "Uh. Next Thursday, right?"
Bakugou glares harder. "No. This Thursday. The Thursday that comes after this Wednesday. The Wednesday that comes after today. Tuesday."
Fuck.
"Fuck," Kirishima says out loud. "Fuck, shit, fuck – I am so screwed, what do I do?"
Bakugou heaves a long sigh. "Well," he says, looking down at his wrist. There"s no watch or anything there, and Kirishima zones out for a second looking at the pale skin on Bakugou"s inner forearm and tries not to think about how soft it would feel if he touched it. Bakugou taps the back of his hand, indicating an imaginary watch and unknowingly snapping Kirishima out of his weird thoughts. "If we run back to campus, we can probably save you ten extra minutes to work on that essay."
Kirishima groans and takes off in a sprint, trying his best to ignore the way Bakugou"s laughter rings in his ears.
They"re about three fourths of the way back to the dorms when Kirishima realizes just how bad of an idea it was to sprint on a stomach sloshing full of soup and rice but they"re too close to stop now and they end up bursting through the door at the same time, almost falling on top of each other.
Sero"s eyebrow is back up a mile high on his forehead but he barely has time to register that before Bakugou is grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him up the stairs and to his room.
"Bro, dude, my man," Kirishima wheezes, "Have some mercy on me."
Bakugou just snorts, "Grab your books and meet me in my room."
"Sir, yes sir!" Kirishima salutes, ignoring Bakugou"s eye roll in favor of quickly fetching his school supplies.
He settles in on the floor next to Bakugou, getting comfortable in his usual position as he lays out his papers and pencils everywhere. Bakugou rolls his eyes, but doesn"t bother scolding him about it anymore, knowing that Kirishima will clean up by the end of the night.
"How far have you gotten in your outline?" he asks instead. When Kirishima freezes in place, Bakugou"s eyes narrow. "Please tell me you"ve written the outline at least."
Strange, Kirishima thinks. I think that"s the first time I"ve heard him say please.
"Well…"
Bakugou closes his eyes and hisses out a long and slow breath. Kirishima quickly gets to writing, the only sound in the room for the next few hours the rustling of papers and scratching of pencils.
The moon shines in through the window and Kirishima hears his neck pop and crack as he rotates his head on his shoulders when Bakugou finally tells him to quit writing.
He stifles another yawn as they wrap up for the night. Next to him, Bakugou is similarly attempting to hide one in a series of yawns that had started picking up ten minutes ago.
"Should wash up before bed," he mumbles, but his head droops dangerously close to the table.
Kirishima grins, watching Bakugou rock back and forth sleepily. His head dips too low for a second and there"s a streak of pink highlighter on the tip of his nose but still Bakugou"s eyes flutter in a losing fight against sleep. It"s only ever during moments like these, when Bakugou finally lets his guard down that he looks like a normal high school kid. Gone are the frown lines or the angry squiggles between his permanently crushed together eyebrows.
He looks peaceful. It makes Kirishima"s heart feel… Tender?
Maybe that"s why his body moves the way it does next, without his brain"s permission. Kirishima feels a little bit like he"s watching an out of body experience, the way his torso leans forward and his face tilts upwards just a bit until his lips rest lightly on Bakugou"s cheek.
They freeze like that for a moment, lips against skin (and oh, is it soft, so, so soft like touching a feather with the tip of your finger) until finally Kirishima breaks the moment by leaning back on his heels, mouth gaped open a little bit in shock (and a little bit of wonder).
"Oh," Bakugou says, blinking back at him. Kirishima"s eyes zero in on the dot of pink on Bakugou"s nose, how it blends in with the soft red blush that covers his cheekbones.
He"s not mad? He"s – he"s not mad at all. Kirishima doesn"t understand why he"s not mad.
"Well," Kirishima says after a few painful moments of silence tick by. "You know. Just kissing the homies goodnight."
And with that, he flees the room.
–
Just like that, it becomes a part of their routine.
Kirishima tells himself that nothing has changed, they"re still the same Bakugou and the same Kirishima. It"s just… another new habit of theirs. Whether that habit is good or bad, his brain doesn"t exactly have the bandwidth to consider just yet.
It"s just routine, the same way that getting a break from campus and the rest of their friends to get dinner once a week, just the two of them, is a routine. The same way that making eye contact before running into battle, or grabbing each other"s wrist afterwards to check their pulses just for that little confirmation that they"re still here is routine. And yes, the way their fingers trail down and interlace is also just another part of their routine, another habit they"ve picked up.
Grabbing an extra mango soda for Bakugou whenever he goes to get himself a Ramune before lunch is just one of Kirishima"s many habits, just as Bakugou packing some extra beef or pork in his bentos is a part of Bakugou"s routine.
It"s actually become a little bit of muscle memory at this point, leaning over to press his lips to Bakugou"s cheek every night. In that split second after they put away their pencils and right before Kirishima stands to go back to his room, his body always finds itself leaning forward.
And maybe, just maybe, Bakugou"s body moves in response sometimes. Out of habit. Instinct. Who knows why. But sometimes, their lips meet. They get a little bit red in the face. And then Kirishima leaves. It"s just what they do.
Kirishima hasn"t thought about it, doesn"t really want to think about it much less have the time to think about it between school and patrols and Mic grading surprisingly harshly on their English exams.
But of course, with friends like Kaminari and Sero it proves to be kind of impossible to not think about it forever.
They"re studying in the common area for a change that day. It"s that humid season when Spring turns into Summer and the central heating hasn"t switched to air conditioning for all of the rooms yet so their individual dorms are stiflingly hot, enticing all of them out to the first floor where air circulates with a little more freedom.
Bakugou has his head leaned against the cool of the countertop and Kirishima finds it so endearing, the way his cheek is squished a little bit, turning his usual frown into a pout as he pants little breaths of condensation against the linoleum countertops.
It"s just… a habit.
The hour is late and he packs up his pencils. His mind stalls and his body moves and he"s standing to leave when Kaminari"s voice interrupts the routine.
"What the fuck."
Kirishima blinks and realizes that Bakugou has sat up straight in his chair, face flushed (it must be the heat, right?) as he stares down at his papers. Kaminari and Sero stare at him from across the counter and others in their class are turning their heads to look at what"s going on.
"What… what do you mean?" Kirishima asks, eyes wide. He thinks he might have just fucked up, but it feels so natural that he doesn"t really know how to even begin to explain what just happened.
"You… did you just… why did you just…" Kaminari looks like he"s just let loose about twenty million volts, the way he"s gaping at them like a fish gulping water.
Lucky for him, Sero manages to finish his sentence, "You just kissed Bakugou. On the cheek. Kirishima. Dude. What?"
"Ah," Kirishima doesn"t really know what to say. His brain is just replaying that first time, how his brain focused in on the pink streak of highlighter on Bakugou"s nose. Today, that"s not there for him to look at so instead he looks at the red crease on his cheek from leaning into the counter for too long. "Um. Just, you know. Kissing the homies goodnight."
Kaminari squints at that, clearly not buying it. "You don"t kiss Sero goodnight," he says. "Wait. Does he?"
Sero shakes his head, "Fuck no, dude."
"See. You don"t kiss me goodnight, either," Kaminari accuses.
Bakugou still hasn"t said a word.
"Well," Kirishima says, forming the words slowly with his mouth as he stalls for a better answer. "Bakugou is my favorite homie. It"s number one homie privileges only."
"What the fuck–"
"Man, it"s really getting late! I"ve already distributed my goodnight kisses so, I"m gonna just–" Kirishima makes a vague gesture behind him, ignoring the fact that the only thing there is the spoon drawer and books it up the stairs.
–
Some of their habits are more acceptable.
Bakugou yells, "Shitty hair!"
Kirishima takes it with a grin, smiles back wide with sharp and pointy teeth as he responds in kind, "Aw, babe."
Everybody laughs, and Bakugou growls, "Say that one more time," as a threat.
Except one day, Kirishima says, "Babe," and there"s nobody around to laugh, nobody to be in on the joke other than Bakugou. They"re curled up on a blanket on Bakugou"s floor, Kirishima half slumped against a wall and Bakugou on his back, looking up at Kirishima from his lap. Bakugou had been going on and on, some story about being the best in his elementary school and something something, Deku, something something when he had suddenly looked up and frowned when he noticed the far away look in Kirishima"s eyes, "Shitty hair?"
"Babe," Kirishima had responded, the word slipping out of his mouth, just another habit.
"Say that one more time," Bakugou says and this time, his voice is low and soft. "Please," he adds, looking up at Kirishima through spiky bangs. "Say it again."
So Kirishima does, because he"s a good friend and good friends do what"s asked of them, especially if they say please.
Especially if Bakugou says please.
"Babe," Kirishima whispers. His hand moves to push Bakugou"s bangs back. "Babe, you look so–" his voice catches in his throat and he refuses to let his thought finish itself.
"Kirishima," Bakugou breathes. "Eijiro." It"s so quiet that Kirishima can barely catch it, the last syllable fading into nothing, his tongue shaping a soundless vowel.
"Katsuki," he says. The syllables don"t roll through his mouth so easily, but he stretches it out as long as he can regardless, portioning the air so it hisses slowly through his teeth. "Katsuki, baby," he says, stroking his hands through Bakugou"s hair until his eyes gently shut.
It"s much easier to look, now. With Bakugou"s eyes closed, he doesn"t have to worry about those red eyes piercing into his soul as he leans down and presses his lips against Bakugou"s nose.
"Katsuki," he mumbles against the soft skin.
Some habits, he finds, can be so easily broken.
–
"Katsuki!" Kirishima calls out, waving him over to sit down. They"re in their third year already, and still Bakugou refuses to join in on the fun and games until he"s heckled into it, usually by Kirishima. It"s just routine for them at this point, another daily in their lives for Kirishima to tug on Bakugou"s hand until he allows himself some company. "Come on, we"re playing truth or dare!"
He rolls his eyes and makes his way over, grumbling as he sits, "That"s such a childish game. You idiots couldn"t think of anything better?"
Over to his side, Kaminari asks, "When did he become Katsuki instead of Bakugou?"
Kirishima has no idea why his neck feels so hot, but he shrugs, "We"re friends. There"s nothing wrong with friends calling each other by their first name. I mean, Midoriya still calls him Kacchan, which is a much closer nickname than just his first name, you know?"
Kaminari looks over at him and smiles, "Chill, dude. It was just a question, no biggie."
Kirishima finds himself deflating a little bit. (And maybe that results in himself being pushed into Bakugou"s side just a smidgen more, but who"s to really say.) "Right."
He finds himself distracted for most of the game after that, his attention entirely focused on the fact that he can feel the seam of Bakugou"s jeans pressing into his thighs.
"Kirishima. Kirishima? Earth to Red Riot," a voice is saying, and Kirishima shakes his head.
"Sorry, what?"
Ashido giggles and shakes her head. "Kirishima, truth or dare?"
"Um," Kirishima says intelligently. It would be manly to pick dare, but he really doesn"t want to move an inch from where he is right now. "Truth?"
"Are you asking or picking?" Ashido teases.
"Truth. I"m picking truth," Kirishima decides with a little more confidence.
Ashido grins, humming for a second before her eyes narrow as she settles on a question. "Okay then. Kirishima Eijiro. When did you lose your virginity."
Kirishima knows for a fact that his face is the same shade as his hair right now. There"s no need for a mirror when he can literally feel his face combusting as everybody stares at him and waits for an answer. "Well."
"Yes?" Ashido prompts. Sero is leaning forward a little too eagerly in his seat.
"I haven"t- yet- I mean- I"m still a virgin," Kirishima answers in a rush, burying his face in his knees.
The silence stretches on for what could only be a second or two but to Kirishima it feels like an eternity before it"s broken by a grunt. "Tch. That was a stupid question, Racoon Eyes."
"Oh," Ashido says and shifts in her seat. "Sorry, I kind of just assumed, I guess. I mean, you"re attractive and your hero costume is half naked and you"re in a long term relationship so…" Other people in the circle speak up then. There are vague reassurances mixed in with Sero offering to hook him up with some quality and "surprisingly informative" porn magazines.
The game moves on, and nobody hears Kirishima ask, "Long term relationship?"
–
They"re back in Bakugou"s room once more. Kirishima runs his hand through Bakugou"s hair (just another habit), propped up in his bed with a mound of pillows behind him. One of them may or may not be a full body pillow with Kirishima in Red Riot gear printed seductively on it. He has a matching one of Bakugou back in his own room, a result of a gag gift from Kaminari the previous year. (Not that he knows, or needs to know that either of them actually use it.)
"You"re quiet today," Bakugou grumbles, eyes still closed as he leans into Kirishima"s touch.
"Ah, am I?" Kirishima asks. He"s distracted again, always is whenever he"s able to have Bakugou so relaxed and unwound in his lap.
"Is it because of the game?" Bakugou asks. When Kirishima doesn"t answer, puzzling over the question, he elaborates, "What Ashido asked you. About being a – about not having. You know."
As embarrassed as Kirishima is, he can"t help but smile at the fact that at least even Bakugou gets flustered around this topic.
"I mean," Kirishima"s hands stall in Bakugou"s hair until he grumbles at him to keep going. "Kind of. I guess. I never really thought about it before, but now that I look back on it, it"s just weird that everybody expected… you know."
Bakugou snorts, "No, not really. I don"t know."
Kirishima shrugs, pulling his hands out of Bakugou"s hair. "It"s just… I don"t know why they expected me of all people to have experience with… that. Who would even want to, with somebody like me. I"m not that special or attractive or–" Kirishima chokes off his words when Bakugou"s eyes fly open and level him with a glare.
Bakugou sits up then, turning and crawling forward until he"s nose to nose with Kirishima, straddling his lap. "What are you trying to say?" he growls. "I– I mean. I would."
"Oh." Kirishima doesn"t know how to respond. His heart is pounding in his throat and he finds it hard to focus on anything except the way Bakugou is pressed so close to him, the way his collar bone is exposed under his tank and the way his Adam"s apple bobs up and down.
"Or, well. We could?" Bakugou asks and for the first time that Kirishima"s heard, he sounds… nervous. Kirishima"s tongue flicks out unconsciously to wet his lips that are getting dry and he catches the way Bakugou"s eyes trail down to watch.
"We could," Kirishima agrees. He"s not entirely sure what the exact reason for that is, but his brain provides plenty of explanations. They"re friends. They"re close. They trust each other. They know each other, inside and out, how their bodies work. They"ve sparred together enough to be able to just… click in everything they do.
And really, they do. Sure, it"s awkward at first and they fumble and ask questions and hesitate to touch, to move, to dig in deeper but they"ve always been able to work together.
It"s just a build-up of habits. They move on instinct, muscle memory of being there for one another making up for their lack of experience. Whispering affirmations, knowing what Bakugou needs just by the look in his eyes, interlacing their fingers and and feeling their hearts beating against one another; they"re all just habits.
Kirishima really wouldn"t have it any other way, wouldn"t want it to be with anybody other than his best friend.
Later that night as they lie there side by side, Bakugou"s head resting on Kirishima"s shoulder, he leans down and presses a kiss into Bakugou"s eyebrow, standing out pale against his skin.
"What, kissing the homies goodnight?" Bakugou asks, chuckling softly.
"Yeah," Kirishima says, "Yeah, something like that."
He hopes, perhaps unrealistically, that this, too, will become a habit.