Chapter Text
Bakugou is Kirishima's best bro. Kirishima is fully aware of and proud of the fact. And the thing about best bros is that you do things together that you don't do with your other bros. Like sharing clothes, for example.
But one evening, when Kirishima strides into the common room wearing Bakugou’s black tank top, Kaminari and Sero immediately fix confused stares on his shirt. And before Kirishima even has a chance to greet his friends, Kaminari downright exclaims:
“Dude…that’s not your top!” Of course, he has to say this statement with a lot of vigour, and therefore very loudly. As a result, it seems that everyone else in the common room (except Midoriya and Todoroki, who are still very much lost in their own world) have stopped to look at him too.
“So what?” Kirishima replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. It’s not strange to share clothes with your best bro, Kirishima knows that. They’re probably confused because said best bro is Bakugou, who isn’t really the friendly type, to say the least.
“Whose shirt is that, even?” Sero wonders aloud, and Kaminari murmurs his agreement.
Wait…so they don’t know that the top belongs to Bakugou? Then why the surprised looks?
As Kaminari and Sero continue to (still too loudly) comment on Kirishima’s choice of clothing, Midoriya spares them a glance.
And abruptly falls off the sofa.
Todoroki is immediately helping Midoriya up, quietly whispering words of concern. Midoriya accepts the help gratefully, looking as if he’s seen a ghost. Between them, they make enough of a commotion that there is not a single person that isn’t now looking in their direction.
“Kirishima,” the green haired boy asks shakily, “are you wearing Kacchan’s top?”
“Yes…?” Kirishima replies easily enough. Kaminari’s and Sero’s mouths drop open in unison. Mina squeals, Tsuyu giggles, and even Todoroki cocks his head to the side.
“Kacchan willingly let you wear his favourite shirt?” Midoriya tries to clarify. Okay, Kirishima really doesn’t understand these reactions, but he shrugs nonetheless.
“Yeah, bro. I mean, all my clothes are in laundry, and Bakugou wasn’t gonna let me ‘wearing a fucking dirty top’, or so he said,” Kirishima attempts to explain.
“But isn’t that, like, what couples do?” Mina asks. Then gasps. “Wait, are you two…?”
“What?” Kirishima yelps, before she can finish her sentiment. “No, no, no! He’s just lending me a top!”
“So he isn’t your boyfriend?” Mina asks. What the heck is up with everyone today? Kirishima thinks to himself. Faster than he’s able to reply to Mina’s ridiculous idea, Midoriya pipes up again.
“Mina, you have no sense of self-preservation,” Midoriya chides. “What if Kacchan hears you?”
“What if I fuckin’ hear what, Deku?!” a gruff voice demands.
Oh, great; perfect timing.
*
It’s a little later in the evening, and the common room has mostly cleared up. Only Todoroki and Midoriya still sit on a sofa, talking gently to each other about something or the other, although Iida’s also come down and rests comfortably in a chair in the corner, engrossed in some sort of book.
Kirishima sits on a table across from Bakugou, sipping his coffee. Damn, but Bakugou knows how to make the best coffee. They sit somewhat quietly, the blonde seeming to be lost in his own thoughts. Kirishima himself thinks back to the incident earlier on. Bakugou had shut them all up pretty quickly, somehow, but it still bothers Kirishima. Is it really that weird…?
“Hey, um,” Kirishima begins, picking at the hem of the black shirt. It really is comfortable. Bakugou looks him in the eye, his usual irritated glare, of course. He doesn’t like being interrupted when he’s thinking, Kirishima’s learnt. It’s sort of a surprise how much time Bakugou spends nowadays thinking. Kirishima’s always known him to be more of a do it now, remember it later sort of person.
“What, Shitty Hair?” Kirishima just blurts his thoughts.
“Is it, like, strange or something for best bros to like, share clothes and stuff? Cos the others-”
“What you thinking of the others for, dumbass?” Bakugou cuts in, to which Kirishima gives him a blank look. Bakugou sighs, annoyed. “Listen. Shitty people are always gonna be shitty people, and dumbass people are always gonna have dumbass thoughts-” Kirishima tries not to dwell on the fact that Bakugou called him a dumbass only a few seconds ago “-so just fucking ignore them like a real man.”
It’s Bakugou’s version of reassuring Kirishima, and Kirishima appreciates his words (and plus, he can’t help but to think that he sounds so manly, but that’s beside the point).
“Thanks, bro,” Kirishima says, grinning sincerely at Bakugou, who scoffs and looks away slightly.
“Whatever, Shitty Hair. Now shut up, I’m trying to think.”
“About what?” Kirishima asks, completely ignoring Bakugou’s last words, and leaning forwards slightly as he takes another sip of his oh-so-perfect coffee.
“You’ve got your shitty extra lessons tomorrow morning so we’re going to have to go on our morning jog earlier which means I’m not gonna be able to go to the gym first so I’m figuring where the fuck I’m going to find time to work out and-”
Bakugou continues muttering, which sorta reminds Kirishima of Midoriya (although he’s not going to risk mentioning that right now because the fact of the matter is Bakugou is putting him first) and Kirishima smiles again and opens his mouth to say something else but yawns instead.
“You should fucking sleep, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou points out in his low growl. He can’t fully mask the concern in his voice, though.
“But I don’t wanna-”
“Do you want to fucking go on the run tomorrow or not?” Bakugou retorts, to which Kirishima pouts.
“No fair, dude – you gotta catch some rest too!” Bakugou lifts an eyebrow, but gets up, taking Kirishima’s now empty mug.
“Get your fucking ass to your room, and then maybe I’ll go to my room too,” Bakugou grumbles. This is their nightly routine, of course. You’ve gotta make sure your best bro rests up, and Kirishima and Bakugou are great at looking out for each other.
Kirishima beams at the thought, then stretches, ready for a good night’s sleep as he watches his best friend’s retreating back.