Chapter 5: Kindling

A/N: There is underage use of weed in this chapter- the dude needs to relax he's a bundle of nerves and a half right now. People use it recreationally and I don't feel I need more explanation for why someone might or might not use it. It's a choice and there's an entire world of information on the whys and why nots. You've been warned.

On the balcony apparently meant on his balcony, with soda. Kirishima was perched comfortably, leaning up against the railing closest to his own room, staring straight ahead into the night. The light from Bakugo's room washed his profile in yellow light, soft. He had insulated himself with a fuzzy orange fleece, washed hair kept out of his face with a wave headband Denki had given him. The fabric bag he used for convenience store runs draped from his arm, surely weighed down by the thrills of contraband.

Bakugo pulled a red thermal, the one that matched his eyes, over his t-shirt, sliding the door open to the kind of evening that settled cold into your skin. Did he feel like hanging out and talking about feelings? Absolutely not.

Did he feel like being confused and left to ponder his fucked up brain? That would also be a hard fucking pass.

At least he could zone out while Kirishima rambled. That was certainly the best plan for tonight, he thought as the redhead held up the two soda bottles like they were prizes. He knocked them at the necks, handing the right one over to Bakugo. "Cheers," he grinned.

"Sure." He replied softly, staring ahead and twisting off the cap and tipping it back. He didn't really feel like eye contact. Kirishima gulped a quarter of his, sighing loudly as he slid down against the railing to sit. Bakugo felt like doing the same, but pride kept him upright with his weight falling on his forearms against the railing. He tilted the lips of the bottle against his own, enjoying the splash of sweetness on his throat.

It was the kind of cold that sunk into his skin tonight, the damp kind of cold that made him feel quirkless. Worthless. Bakugo eyed the bag, curious. "Did you grab anything useful from your off campus excursion?"

Kirishima smirked knowingly, producing a single serving bag of takis. "Of course I did." Bakugo took the bag and opened it, reveling in the salty smell. UA didn't allow the hero course snacks like these; everything was regimented and each of them worked with a nutritionist that would create a diet to compliment their physical and quirk training. Bakugo grabbed a nub and shoved it in his mouth.

They had a great view of the forest from their wing of the dorms. A few flashes of teal lit up the clearing and his stomach threw itself in knots again. "Anything that hits higher?" he asked with a crunch.

"Someone's feeling kingly." The words should have been joking, but the red head's face was more concerned than that. He was being spoiled. He didn't care.

"Sure am." Bakugo quipped, coldly. He felt gross and disgusting and like he wanted to disappear into nothing- he wasn't one to just destroy his lungs for no reason. No, he needed a hard out and he needed to not talk about the why. Kirishima's eyes held their softness, but he obliged, dragging a small, disposable vape from his fleece.

"Fine," he brought the pen's mouth piece to his lips, inhaling. It was easier to get these little one-off-limited-use objects than anything they'd need to store for long. "But you have to join me in the underworld." Kirishima spoke through a held breath, tugging at cuff of Bakugo's pants to join him on the ground. "The view's just as good."

"Is it warmer?" Bakugo played back as his friend exhaled, smiling widely at him. Kirishima never needed that much information. That was part of what he liked about the guy, he respected personal boundaries in a way he didn't respect physical ones. He was easy to be with, no judgement.

"Just as cold actually, but the conversation is better."

"Who said I felt like conversing?" Bakugo played back, sinking his heels forward until he fell down to his butt. He plucked the pen from Kirishima's hand, their legs criss crossing at the knees- which normally he'd make a stink about. But now he was emotionally spent and admittedly cold, so the small amount of warmth was, not welcomed, but tolerable. He took a sharp drag as Kirishima stole a taki from his lap.

"It's been a long week and a longer day. Conversation is nice." Kirishima muddled his words between crunches. "We might even get to what's been bugging you lately. Discover the big why and how of the resident king's gnarlish-ness." He acted with his hands like he was announcing a new theatre act. Bakugo had no interest in being a part of that soul diving journey. Time to dodge and pivot.

"So this project sucks,right?" Bakugo quipped.

"I feel like I got the worst draw." The red head threw his head against the rails, groaning. "Do you know how many times I was asked what her boobs look like by Mineta?" Bakugo took a second hit, he was feeling greedy.

"8?" Bakugo guessed, exhaling through his teeth.

"12." The soft haired boy retorted. Bakugo laughed. Seriously how could a rat like Grape Balls actually get in to UA? At least Deku had guts… fuck. Right back to Deku.

He stuck his arm with the pen into Kirishima's face, demanding in his gesture he would take another hit. Kirishima took it, obviously eyeing the rushed behavior- eye contact that Bakugo was avoiding lest they give away the massive shifting of tectonic plates in his brain. "I literally haven't even seen them that many times."

"Yeah why would she bother with a dunce face like you?" Bakugo quipped, pretending that he hadn't actually sized his best friend up as a potential partner. Kirishima exhaled, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Come on now, that hurt man." Bakugo grunted in response, shoving a taki in his mouth before it decided to say anything else. He came here to zone out. Disconnect. Un-engage his extremely brilliant, and active, imagination.

Kirishima moved on, looking towards Bakugo's room, but not anywhere in particular. "And on top of that, we couldn't come up with any ideas. What the fuck is this, a job that isn't hero work? It's not like we're theatre students."

"Some of them might as well be," This was easy, this was a conversation that Bakugo could manage right now. "All costumes and lines, no work or talent to mention. Case in point-"

"Mineta, I know I know." Kirishima responded, shifting his weight, legs sliding against Bakugo's and reminding him exactly how close they were. There were 2 layers of thick fabric between but everything felt on fire, like all his attention could shift with one movement. "The funniest thing was, I couldn't shake Raccoon Eyes the entire time we were brainstorming."

"Sounds like I'm pretty influential then." Bakugo laughed. Another teal flash, and another, and another. Less thinking was better right now. He dug his heels into the ground to force his attention to remain on his friend and nowhere near

"Can you imagine me suggesting that? To my ex?" Kirishima laughed, eyes settling somewhere along the edge of Bakugo's face. Bakugo gave the red head his gaze finally, realizing he'd had a pretty good reason to skirt it. Red eyes rimmed in naturally dark lashes, looking at him like he wanted to help. Another spark of teal lit the right side of his face momentarily. He felt anger pooling in his gut.

"Queen of the Trash, how fitting for someone who fucked you." He replied coolly. He was feeling nasty, he'd admit it. And he must have finally hit the nerve he'd been looking for because his shirt was in Kirishima's fist and his friend's face was a considerable distance from his own.

"That was nasty," Kirishima's voice was stern "even for you."

"You're always telling me how I should be" Fuck. What the fuck was with this? Kirishima was literally straddling him, angry, on his balcony.

"I'm trying to compliment your creative moniker making skills and all you can do is get under my skin." Kirishima ticked his tongue, shook his head and looked out over the forest. Eyes glistening red, hair brushing his face and backlit by the porch lights.

Bakugo's libido was telling him to fucking go for it and he'd never wanted to kill something more in his life.

Okay, this was new data for sure. He'd previously written Kirishima off as too lenient, but it was very apparent to Bakugo's libido that his best friend could get angry the way he needed him too. And if it was between Kirishima and Deku, Kirishima was the less emotionally frustrating choice.

The real questions then became, pending Bakugo was impulsive enough, 1) how long could Kirishima sustain said ferocity without softening? And, 2) how often could Bakugo get away with ticking him off to this point until he reached a wall?

Oh, and he didn't even have a gauge on if Kirishima was into that. Well, that probably mattered less if he didn't get a proper read on his first 2 concerns. This could be his out. The current action: instigate.

"It's not my fault I haven't slept around enough to know." And now Bakugo was fully pushed over, his back digging into the cold floor. Fucking perfect.

"What is up with you today?" Kirishima's torso was fully over his, knees knocked over either side, pulling Bakugo's chest closer to his own. His friend's eyes looked like they wouldn't hesitate to throw him over the balcony and it was doing absolute fucking wonders for him.

He decided to dive into the solution, he wasn't one to tread lightly and it's not like his issue was going away.

"Blowing off steam," Bakugo mumbled into his face with hooded eyes. He was playing close to the edge, and that was robbing him of his breath and his self control. He righted himself and grabbed Kirishima's hips, pulling them down to his own roughly.

The movement left both of them sucking air. Holy crap the friction felt good. Felt fucking right to grind up into him. They were both semi-hard and Bakugo intended to firm up the situation quickly.

"This isn't what you want." Kirishima's hands dug into the ones Bakugo had placed on his hips. Bakugo felt like his skin was on fire and like he wanted to launch himself face first into the red head.

"Get with the picture idiot," Bakugo let one hand be pried from his hip to trail up to his neck, digging his fingers into his friend's nape. He felt like he was going to choke on his own come on, it was so lame, but his head was hazy and he was really high and Kirishima felt like an answer to something he'd forgotten.

He was trying to lean in and connect their lips, but Kirishima pushed at his chest. "You-" he started, eyes brushing from the floor up to meet his own. Bakugo knew he was drowning. "Have you made up with Deku yet?" He laced his hands up through the back of his hair, dragging him closer again.

"Not going to." He whispered, closing the distance and softly locking Kirishima's lips with his own. He felt his friend melt into him, cracked lips mollifying into his own. Kirishima was like a conductor, anywhere he brushed against was just rushing energy and heat to his pants. He needed more, he thought as Kirishima broke the kiss.

"Fuck," Kirishima cursed, pulling his arms between them, elbows resting on his abs and hands at his collar bone. His eyes were wistful and not angry and Bakugo wanted the latter back so very badly. Kirishima shook his head as if to regain a sense of reality. "You need to talk with Midoriya, Bakugo."

No he fucking didn't need to talk to that smug know-it-all. He needed Kirishima to act on his primal instincts. Based on his reaction to the kiss and the hard-on pressing against his own, he was pretty fucking into doing whatever Bakugo fucking felt like.

"Going on about the nerd right now is pretty bold of you." Kirishima's breath was ragged and mixing with his own, and he wanted him to push him over again, to hold him against the rails and bite his lips with his shark teeth. Goddamn, he was into this but it felt like the prospect was slipping from his grip.

The red head tried to raise his hips to get off, but Bakugo pulled them back down in one of the boldest moves he'd made since charging directly at All Might solo. A low rumble of a moan escaped the red head's throat before he was rolling them both over and double punching Bakugo square in the chest, launching the blonde back first into the rails on the other side of the balcony.

"Because he gets under your skin in a way I never will." Kirishima was firm, strong, and sure in his statement. His face was dusted in pink and his ears were matching his hair. Bakugou bristled, getting angrier the more this just didn't make sense. Shouldn't one hard on plus another lead to more?

"Oh really?" He wasn't versed in this, he had no idea what he was doing. It was new. It was infuriating.

"You should know more than anyone why I can't be your number 2." Yeah, but at least you wouldn't get yourself killed for nothing. Bakugo watched Kirishima collect himself and get to his feet and fixed his hair band and. He, himself, didn't feel like moving.

"You never said you weren't into it." He pressed.

"This little fantasy isn't happening." He couldn't stand how Kirishima was looking at him right now. "You can't pick me up and put me down like that." If only he had Mirio's quirk and he could phase the fuck out of this absolute, utter loss.

Bakugo stood up as well, disliking the distance he was feeling. The red head was always all over him, always understanding. "I'm sorry."

"While that's a huge milestone for you- that's not going to cut it for me today." Kirishima stuck his hands deep into his jacket pocket, walking back towards his own balcony. "I need to cool down."

"Do whatever you want." Was his calloused response as the boy disappeared through his slider. His anger was just getting worse, highlighted by another bolt of teal from the forest clearing.

If he was being honest, he really wanted to start a fight and just get the shit beat out of him so he could feel as shitty on the outside as he did on the inside. But maybe, he'd been a little too impulsive for one goddamn night.

Well, Bakugo had gone and forced himself on and pissed off his only friend, closing the door and curtain behind him. He'd really put himself in a fucked up spot, shrugging off his damp fleece and searching for the dry warmth of his covers. If he was lucky, which he normally was, Kirishima would be fine the next day. But the nature of their fights had never been, well, like this.

Letting out a good string of loud general curses into the night, he calmed his lungs and went back inside. He felt like plopping into bed exactly as he was, but he wasn't a piece of trash that didn't take care of himself. Even if he was toked.

He grabbed his shower caddy, shower shoes, and his towel and headed for the dumb as hell communal showers. They were beautiful, nothing less from U.A.- they were dumb because he had to share space with a bunch of lugnuts.

Walking through the hall he broke down the information he had compiled. He might have a thing for Deku, but generally, getting pushed around would suffice for his libido. Kirishima was his safest option and probably wouldn't talk to him for a few days. He wouldn't be his second choice either, which means he would have to strike out with Deku first. Bakugo had absolutely zero fucking intent to confront Deku on said feelings.

Shinso was a creep. And confirmed both Kiri and Shinso knew he was hopped up on the All-For-One holders every freaking move. He pushed through the door into the already steamy room. There was shuffling in the shower, 2 students getting it on at a late hour like this. Gross.

The set up was simple: Sand blown green glass doors lined the showers on either side of the main room, with an island of sinks and mirrors and cupboards running through the center of the room. A changing area was around a small corridor, complete with lockers and a laundry pick up spot should the students feel too lazy to do their own. Toilets were off to the opposite side.

He plopped his caddy on the counter, and grabbed the stuff he needed to brush his teeth. Flossing first, then a tongue scraper, then a very thorough teeth cleaning regimen. He went to spit, when he heard a full groan.

Similar to the one he'd get from punching him square in the chest, but deeper and fuck, happier. Breathier. Shit.

"Ura-Uravity..." Fuck he wanted to vomit. This was not okay. He should leave. He shouldn't be here.

He needed a shower. He should go. Maybe he could use one on another level.

"Fuck, you're tight." The gravelly voice continued it's siege of Bakugo's brain. His stomach tightened up, the feeling of wanting to set sparks off was heightening fast. His high was not helping with his hard on. Or, rather, it was being too helpful and quickly becoming an issue.

If he did make a scene with his sparks he could stop it. He could just be super loud and tell them to fucking die and they'd be so embarrassed about getting caught. They weren't even on the right floor.

"Hnnnnn…" And then of course, they'd both see him high and aroused and fucking down for what she was getting. He played a little scenario in his head, boldly knocking on the shower and suavely "I'd like to order what she's having."

He wiped the silly thought from his head. That wasn't him, or at least that wasn't the current him. The Bakugo at present was not someone who gave a flying shit what anyone else was doing. He did what he came to do.

He undressed and walked over to a shower stall one over, but on the same side of the room. He considered hiding his caddy in a locker. The more he thought about it though, he wanted Deku to know that he knew. He wanted to see him embarrassed and to squirm around the issue that Bakugo knew exactly what he sounded like when he fucked.

And he'd know it was him based on his caddy. It was done up in black and orange and red and had a grenade charm looped around the side. A groupie had made it, and it was actually really badass so he kept it.

He turned the water on to hot, and stepped in. The sounds were more muffled now, but he was hearing everything just fine as shampoo ran down from his head to the floor. Deku was pretty vocal. Lots of mmmms and hnns and deep breathy whispers were in use. He had conditioner in his hair when he started hearing commands and fuck if he wasn't going to play along with those. Every part of him was throbbing in excitement, like he was a sick fuck who couldn't wait to get owned.

"Hands against the wall, I'm going to press up against you and go slow with it." Bakugo let himself go soft in his form, releasing the tension he carried in his muscles as he pushed his form up against the back corner of the shower. Imagining Deku's body rigid and full with One for All energy pressing him closer, he snaked his left hand back to stroke down his side and feel the muscles running down his thighs and hips. He knew he was hot, but he rarely took time to appreciate himself for the bombshell he was. He grabbed his own ass, pleasantly surprised it was actually round and soft. Every movement felt soft and fiery and exciting, his skin tingling from the thc. He brought his other hand down to grab his arousal, pressing his face sideways into the tile This was shit on his neck and he couldn't care fucking less.

He was hotter than that girl, he knew it. He heard Deku hiss, and played with the idea of pushing his fingers into himself. Was he there yet?

"Uoohmm," was Ochako's response as Deku entered her. Well she fucking was, and she was now his official rival and goddamn if he'd loose to a Disney heroine. He pressed two digits in slowly, stroking himself through the uncomfortable feeling.

"Are you touching yourself? I don't remember asking you to do that…" Deku trailed, making Bakugo drop his hand from his length. "I want you to focus only on how my cock is making you feel." He pressed his fingers in deeper, looking for the spot he'd read up on before. He felt up and around and curved his fingers when he found an angle and a motion that felt vaguely more pleasant than the rest. He decided to coax that area softly, and maybe it'd start working for him.

Geeze, if he was going to be pining for the world's best, he should have the basics nailed down at least. "That's very good. You're doing so well." Deku cooed. He started pressing his hips back, trying to ride his own fingers as he dug them deeper inside. Between Deku's somehow excellent dirty talk and his own ministrations, a heat was building and his cock was straining.

Fuck whatever Deku said, he wanted to get off. It's not like he was some girl that could just orgasm off of fingers alone. He stroked his head a few times before gripping his base tightly, imagining scarred hands were doing it instead. His ass was starting to feel pretty nice, but he could only imagine what being fully filled felt like. It must feel so good to have Deku buried deep inside, swelling up and hitting his prostate with his soft, hot tip.

He felt like such a pervert. He felt like a fucking Deku, analyzing and memorizing everything he saw and heard. But he was understanding it better now- what it was like to try and grasp and own something that will never be yours. That jealousy had his hand working fast when Deku asked, "Are you ready to come for me?"

"Fucking hell yeah" Bakugo breathed into his orgasm, spilling down into the shower drain. The sound of the water running would have drowned him out. Also, there's no way he could have been heard overtop their collective climax. Fucking noisy as shit.

The come down was slow and it was sobering. He could feel a trinket of his normal cognitive state returning and if he hadn't just satisfied his Deku craving so thoroughly, he'd be absolutely repulsed. He waited for the love birds to get out of the shower and scurry back to the nerd's room for pillow talk or some shit. He reached for a sugar scrub his mom had sent in a care package to help him pass the time and possibly look like he'd been busy doing anything and everything shower related, rather than fuck himself to his childhood friend truned rivals hookup.

He scooped up a bit to rub over his face, his shoulders and chest. His skin was always on display, especially with his goddamn manager's handling of his accounts, so keeping care of it was imperative for his brand. He heard the other shower switch off, some scuffling of flip flops, some whispers and a door opening and closing. Bakugo let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and shut the shower off.

Gathering his shit, he slinked back to his room, plopped into bed. He was good for tonight, and anything else was just tomorrow Bakugo's problem.