Chapter Text
Katsuki doesn’t understand why he does this thing he does, He normally finds himself doing it before he can even question why…And by then it's too late to stop it, he has slipped too far under to pull his mind out and analyze why.
Why his thumb has wondered to his mouth or why the overwhelming urge to watch his favorite childhood All-Might cartoon appeared out of nowhere.
And then when he wakes up, usually the next morning on a good night, he feels so… good he doesn’t have it in him to question, to dig too deep and find out why and risk forming an aversion to…whatever this thing is he does when he is alone.
That's what Katsuki has always known…He doesn't have a name for the weird feeling that oftentime comes over him when he is stressed or overworked. He doesn’t know how it started or why this particular feeling is his outlet, but he does know since the first time he can remember it happening, he knew it needed to be kept a secret.
Because the thing he does know is that it's not normal for a sixteen year old to act so childish. To watch cartoons meant for kids years younger and to actively enjoy them. He knows it’s not normal to let his eyes linger on the coloring books and shiny things in the toy aisle at the grocery store…
Thankfully…or possibly not, Katsuki isn’t sure…His body does this thing without much choice of whether he wants it to happen or not. He is sure if he had to make the active choice to do this in the beginning, without knowing how much better he would feel after, there is no way in hell he would have ever encouraged or even tried it.
Now however its part of his routine whenever things get a tough, from tests, to injuries to anything that makes life a bit too hard for him to handle on his own he lets the warm, gooey feeling take over…and hell, sometimes if he is feeling fucked in the head he might put on his favorite cartoon and coax that side of him out a littler sooner…and he is fine with that because its in the privacy of his dorm. Alone.
That was until yesterday.
He never thought this thing was something he had to do.. He knew it was something that happened, and the first few times it completely blind-sided him, if he is being honest. But, he was also dealing with so much stress back then. For one, he was still living with his parents which was…much more than he thinks anyone his age could handle and two, everything that happened with the league was happening. He could make sense of everything chalking it up to the literal world being on his shoulders and it made sense why he was seeming to break mentally.
Now, however…He would say his life is pretty neutral in terms of stressors. Of course he doesn’t need the world to be ending to give into that feeling. Hell, the last time he ‘went under’ as he has started referring to it in his head was because he got in a very pity fight with Kirishima. He knew everything would be fine in the morning, but screw him for not wanting to wallow in his thoughts all night. So he put on his cartoons and his favorite Pajamas and let his mind go under. The next day everything was fine and he didn’t think much of it.
Thats probably why yesterday took him by fucking suprise…because his fight with Kirishima was over two months ago. Humanity hasn't been threatened, he hasn't so much as talked to him mom outside of text in ages and him and all his friends, even Deku are on good terms…So when he accidentally spilled his drink on himself in the cafeteria after feeling slightly on edge all morning, he did not expect that warm, goopy feeling to creep up on him, and he certainly didn’t think when it did he wouldn’t be able to push thought it…but boy was he wrong.
Katuski didn’t know why his face felt wet when the drink he spilled was clearly all over his lap and shoes, but it was. His cheeks and his eyes and—
“Is Bakugo crying?” Mina asks, if Katsuki was not, well…crying, he probably would have taken offence at how shocked she sounded. Of course Katsuki cries! Everyone cries! But he figures the context as to why he was crying is what was shocking to his friends. Thankfully, not everyone in the bakusquad froze seeing their toughest member brought to tears over spilled milk .
“Hey man, It’s okay. It’s no big deal.” Kirishima was in his lap with napkins at the ready, but the warm gooey feeling already took him over and he couldn’t fight the tears, nor could he form any proper excuses as to why he was crying. Truly, he had no idea.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Eijirou sees the shift happen before he understands it. One second Bakugo’s scowling at the mess in his lap like he’s going to explode…literally and the next he’s… gone. Not physically, but in the way his whole expression collapses inward. Like the ground under him just cracked open and no one else heard it but him.
He's up before he even thinks to be, grabbing napkins and crouching beside him. He doesn’t know what to say at first. Bakugo never cries. Or rather, Bakugo doesn’t let people see him cry. He shares a wall with him in the dorms…He hears things.
Mina’s voice cuts through the shocked silence. “Is Bakugo crying ?”
Kirishima shoots her a look. Not angry, just sharp enough to say not now. “Hey, man, it’s okay,” he says gently, quieter now that he’s closer. “It’s no big deal.” But Bakugo doesn’t answer.
His eyes are unfocused. He’s breathing shallow, fast, like he’s somewhere far away. Eijirou has seen this look before…not exactly like this, but close enough. After Kamino. After nights when Bakugo swore he was fine, then hours into the night He would hear an explosion from the room next door followed by muffled sobs.
This is different. He's…not just quiet—he seems stuck. Tensed knuckles in his lap like he doesn’t know what to do with his own hands.
Eijirou doesn’t ask what’s wrong.
He just keeps wiping gently at the spilled drink. The napkin is soaked through in a second, so he grabs another, then another. He doesn’t want to leave him, not even for a second, not even to get a towel. Something in him is screaming ‘Don’t leave him alone like this.’
He leans in and whispers, “I got you. You’re okay.” And maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’s overly sentimental. But he places a hand lightly on the back of Bakugo’s neck, just grounding him there. Not pulling, not pushing. Just steady. Warm. Present.
Bakugo leans into it.
Barely. A twitch of movement. But it’s intentional . His eyes close, and for a second, Ejirou feels the tension drop out of his friend like a deflating balloon.He thinks about what to say next. Tries to find something comforting but not condescending , something soft but still manly enough that Bakugo wont exploded his face off for it.
“Do you want to go back to the dorms?” he says finally. “I don’t know what's wrong, but I think you need the day off, huh?” Bakugo has taken days off before, not that anyone besides Ejirou and their teachers know they were sort of ‘mental health days’ even though his best friend played them off as anything but. He figures now is another time the blonde can’t function fully, and that's okay and understandable to anyone considering the events of the previous semester.
Bakugo’s still quiet, still breathing heavily, but he’s not crying anymore. Not really. Just blinking slowly like his whole brain’s rebooting.
“I’ll walk you back to the dorms,” Kirishima adds after a pause. “You don’t gotta say anything. Just… let me help.” For the first time since the cup hit the table, his friend moves.He gives a slight nod, And that’s enough to get Eojirou moving.
“Hey—” Eijirou leans over to Mina as Katsuki maneuvers around the spilled milk on the floor, “Tell Aizawa what happened and that I’m taking him back to the dorms and that I’ll probably stay with him for a while just to make sure he’s okay.” Mina nods, and Eijirou is happy he has such a good group of friends.
They walk the halls slowly. Eijirou stays close, one step behind and to the side—not crowding, just there , ready for…He isn’t sure but he just feels the need to protect his friend while he is so clearly upset. They’re halfway to the dorms when Bakugo stops walking.
Eijirou notices immediately, turning just as Bakugo says, voice slightly choppy and oddly soft, “Can we go to the bathrooms?”
“I mean, we’re like two hallways away from the dorms,” he says gently, “We’ll be there in five minutes. If you can just—”
“I can’t wait,” Bakugo blurts out, and Eijirou’s gut twists at the sudden desperation in his voice. Then, quieter, more fragile than he has ever heard him speak Bakugo adds, “I need to go potty.”
Eijirou blinks. His brain does a full reset at the word. Potty. It’s such a childish thing to say… but it’s not a joke. Bakugo’s face is pale, his ears red. He’s not joking…He’s earnestly asking in a way that makes Eijirou’s chest squeeze.
“Oh,” he says, his voice instinctively softer. “Okay. Yeah, yeah! Uh—the closest restroom is just around the corner.”
He gently redirects them, no questions, no teasing, not even a raised eyebrow. Bakugo walks stiffly beside him, like he’s trying to keep it together with every step.They push open the door to the thankfully empty bathroom. Bakugo hesitates just inside the threshold. He looks up at Eijirou, and for a second, his face flickers again with hesitance.
“Will you come in with me?” he asks. “To the stall. I… I don’t want to be alone.”
Eijirou stares. Not because he’s shocked by Bakugo's asking…This isn’t the first time he has had to walk his friend to the bathroom or showers. After he was kidnapped…not that the blonde would ever admit to it, but he would often come to Eijirou’s dorm and stutter out asking for his company, and he always went with because he understood being scared after what he went thought. No, he is shocked because he’s asking so easily…and with that tone. It’s not something Katsuki Bakugo would ever ask unless something wrong was seriously going on.
He has the sudden and vivid image of future-Bakugo punching him into the sun for even entertaining this. He never went into the stall with him before…The blonde was actually adamant he stayed out in the hallway and watched the door…But right now…Right now, his friend looks like he might shatter if he says no.
“Yeah. Okay. I got you.”
He follows him into the stall. It’s cramped and kinda smells but He shuts the door behind them and turns quickly, facing forward like a gentleman. The tiled wall in front of him has some crude permanent marker graffiti, the perfect thing to focus on instead of the mortifying situation.
Bakugo fumbles behind him with his pants. Eijirou keeps his arms folded tight over his chest, every muscle tensed in awkward solidarity. There’s a pause, then the soft trickle of pee hitting the water.
Eijirou exhales. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath.
“I’m done.” The redhead turns around, slightly amused to see his friend struggling with the buckle on his belt, looking a little too frustrated.
Eijirou doesn’t know why he does it, but it just feels like the right thing to do. He reaches out and helps the metal slide into place, fastenting the slack in the belt loops. “There we go.” He says once he is done, to his surprise, Bakugo seems content to be helped.
“I’m yucky.” Bakugo says while washing his hands. Eijirou tilts his head at the statement not knowing what his friend means exactly by yucky…
“Yucky?”
Bakugo nods solemnly, flicking water off his fingers before reaching for the paper towels. “The milk… it got all over me. My pants are gross now. They smell.” He puffs his cheeks out in distaste. “I’m not supposed to smell like milk.”
Eijirou smiles softly despite himself. “That’s fair. You’re not cereal.”
“I’m not cereal,” Bakugo agrees, deadly serious.
They walk slowly again, back through the quiet halls, but the energy feels a little different now. Bakugo’s still quiet, still heavy in his limbs, but more grounded. Like something in him is settled now that he’s been heard…been helped and wasn’t made to feel weird about it.
When they reach the dorms, Eijirou unlocks his friend's door and steps aside to let Bakugo in first. He expects the blonde to head straight for his dresser and start stripping out of his milk-stained clothes, maybe even grumble something about laundry or mutter curses under his breath like usual.
But instead, Katsuki makes a beeline for his bed. Eijirou watches in confusion as he kneels beside it and pulls out a small box from beneath the frame. It’s nothing fancy, just an old shoebox with a faded lid but Bakugo opens it with the kind of carefulness Eijirou usually reserves for his friend expensive, breakable things or baby birds.
But Bakugo pulls out neither of those things, simply A tiny, worn, well-loved All Might plushie. Bakugo pulls the plushie out slowly, holds it in his lap for a second, then clutches it to his chest and climbs into bed without a word. He curls up on his side, hugging the stuffed hero tightly, burying his nose into its fuzzy yellow hair with something like relief.
Eijirou’s heart lurches. He’s not sure what is going on…Still, he doesn’t tease. He doesn’t say a word about whatever this is.
He walks over slowly, sits at the edge of Bakugo’s bed, and just… exists there, in his space, offering company in the quietest, least intrusive way he can manage. He watches the slow rise and fall of Bakugo’s shoulders, the way his fingers unconsciously knead into the worn fabric of the All-Might plushies cape. He seems relaxed now… a stark contrast to the tense, explosive storm that usually hides behind his friends eyes.
Eijirou shifts slightly, careful not to startle him. “Hey,” he prods gently, “you should probably change out of those pants, you’re gonna get your bed dirty.”
Bakugo doesn’t even open his eyes. He just burrows deeper into the blankets and mumbles, “Don’t wanna. Not yet.”
“It’ll feel better, though,” Eijirou tries again. “Promise.”
Bakugoes voice, when it comes, is high and a little whiny. “Wanna watch All Might cartoons first.”
Eijirou blinks, surprised but softening almost instantly. He can’t help but feel the need to be softer around his friend in this state. “Oh. Yeah? Are they even still on netflix?”
Katsuki shakes his head into the plushie . “No, not the funny theme song and funny looking art ones.”
Eijirou chuckles. “The ones from, like, when we were five?”
Bakugo lifts his hand just enough to point to his desk drawer. “There.”
Eijirou follows the gesture, pulling open the drawer to reveal a neat stack of old DVDs. Some with hand-written labels, others with faded official covers. Right on top is a disc that reads “All Might Super Justice Hour!! Season 2” in red Sharpie.
He loads it into Bakugo’s ancient DVD player that he found already plugged into the TV with another ancient cartoon disc inside it, without a word. The screen lights up, flickers once, and then the cheesy opening theme pours into the room. A younger, cartoonier version of their teacher zooms across the screen with a grin the size of the Fatgum.
Eijirou turns around to find Katsuki already propped on one elbow, eyes fixed on the screen, All-Might plush still clutched to his chest like a lifeline.
And damn if that doesn’t just do something to Eijirou’s heart.
The feral, loud and combative Bakugo Katsuki…is watching a cartoon made for toddlers with the rapt attention of someone starving for it. Not in an ironic, nostalgia chasing way either, Eijirou notes.
“Can you sit here?” Bakugo asks without looking over.
Eijirou nods, moving back to the bed and climbing on top of the blanket this time. He sits close but not too close, letting his arm rest behind Katsuki’s pillow. “Yeah. I can sit.”
The show plays, absurd and loud and colorful, and Katsuki giggles. Giggles, for real and Eijirou doesn’t even think about reacting to it. He just watches with him, content to share the space, to be part of this hidden, unguarded version of his best friend.
At some point, Katsuki scoots closer, resting his head lightly against Eijirou’s arm. He ignored it, worried that this weird, calm bubble he has found himself in will pop if he makes the blonde aware of anything that is happening.
The cartoon plays on, episode after episode, each one louder and more stupid than the last. Eijirou doesn’t care for it. Not even a little but He barely pays attention to the plot, too focused on the way Bakugo’s body leans heavier and heavier against him, his breathing slowing until—
Grumble.
Eijirou glances down and blinks.
His friend is asleep. Fully and completely knocked out, cheek squished softly into Eijirou’s arm, mouth slightly open. There’s a peacefulness to his face that Eijirou rarely sees, like all the tension he usually carries like armor has melted away, replaced with something quiet and childlike.
And then He remembers, with a small jolt, that Bakugo is still wearing his milk-soaked pants. It has to be uncomfortable…Eijirou sighs softly. He really doesn’t want to wake him. But leaving him to sleep in wet pants doesn’t feel like an option.
So, gently, so gently, he maneuvers out from under Katsuki’s weight. He pauses when the blond shifts slightly, but Bakugo only rolls to the side, hugging the All-Might plush closer.
Once he’s sure his friend won’t wake, Eijirou moves around the room in search of pajamas. He opens drawers carefully, pulling out soft sweats and a worn tank top that smells like fabric softener. He grabs a pair of clean briefs from the middle drawer, blushes a little, then steals himself.
Changing Bakugo out of his clothes feels… risky. Not because Eijirou is gonna do anything weird..but because he knows how mortified Bakugo would be if he were awake. But he’s not. And he needs this. So Eijirou keeps his touch respectful and clinical, doing his best to preserve Katsuki’s dignity.
The uniform peels off with some effort, and Eijirou grimaces at the damp spot on the pants, still faintly sour from the milk. He works quickly, hands steady. Once Bakugo is dressed, Eijirou pulls the blanket up and over him, tucking it in gently around his shoulders. The plush is still clutched to his chest. If Eijirou weren’t so confused, he would say it's adorable.
“You’re something.” Eijirou murmurs, brushing a bit of hair out of Katsuki’s eyes. “You’re really something.”
He stands to leave, but pauses, his eyes drifting toward the edge of the bed. He has been nothing but respectful…but he is still left with so many answers that he doubts he will get from the blonde himself…
He shouldn’t look. It’s personal. But…after everything today, after the ‘potty’ incident, the cartoons, he can’t help but want to understand . To see this secret part of his best friend a little clearer. Nothing you keep in a box under your bed isn’t a secret. He is thankful that at least going into it he is pretty sure Bakugo’s box doesn’t hold what he knows the worn shoebox under Denki’s bed holds…
Eijirou crouches and pulls the box out slowly. He opens it with gentle hands, like it might disintegrate if he’s not careful enough.
Inside are a few small toys. A squishy All Might keychain. A plastic spinner ring that lights up when pressed. A faded red racecar with a chipped wheel…all things he thinks he recognizes from the gachapon machines at the station near campus…
Tucked in the corner is a set of crayons, barely used, and a tiny notebook with scribbles that look more like messy doodles than anything else. And then, tucked beneath a folded towel…is a sippy cup.
Green. Simple. A little cartoon explosion design on the side. Eijirou stares at it, heart thudding. Once again like the cartoons he knows It’s not a joke. It’s not a novelty. It means something. He slowly folds the towel back over it, replaces the notebook, and slides the box gently back under the bed.
Then he returns to Bakugo’s side and sits on the floor next to him, just for a few minutes longer. Trying to decipher what is going on with his best friend.