Chapter Text
Fumikage is visiting Mezou’s apartment on a very peaceful Sunday. He’s happy to be here. He hasn’t spent time with his best friend in a while, and it’s nice to catch up over tea and snacks. It’s a nice respite from the endless line of academic responsibilities that pile up every day.
The only annoying part is that Fumikage is here partially because he had to evacuate from his own home.
“I just want them to stop being so,” Fumikage makes a vague gesture with his hand, “in our apartment. I don’t see why Todoroki keeps coming over when his place is bigger.”
“Well, I’m guessing your brother doesn’t want to go hang out at Todoroki’s, given that it’s where his boss lives.” Mezou sounds entirely too amused at Fumikage’s pains of having to put up with Keigo and Todoroki being domestic and doting in Fumikage’s home. “Let them be happy. You want Keigo to be happy, don’t you?”
Fumikage sighs. “I suppose so.”
If Todoroki makes Fumikage’s brother happy, then Fumikage would never deny Keigo his happiness. And Fumikage finds Todoroki a decent friend of sorts. They’re not close, but they’ve grown comfortable with each other. Fumikage definitely thinks Todoroki isn’t that bad of a choice for Keigo’s boyfriend.
But still.
“I just want them to go on dates outside,” Fumikage gripes, and Mezou laughs.
“Like how Bakugou kept taking you outside so Todoroki could court your brother?” Mezou shakes his head. “You let that guy distract you so much.”
Fumikage rolls his eyes. “Bakugou and I aren’t like that.”
“Mm.” Mezou’s mouth doesn’t smirk, but Fumikage can see it in his eyes anyway. “Sure, if that’s what you say.”
-
Back when Fumikage entered university, Jirou had been his first friend. Tsuyu had made it to the same university as well, but Jirou had been the first person who wasn’t from his high school that he befriended all on his own. Kaminari and Bakugou had been from the same high school as Jirou, so Fumikage met them through her.
They hadn’t been especially close at first, but during their second semester, Jirou had discovered that Fumikage played the guitar on occasion as a hobby, and she’d been all too eager to recruit him into starting a band with her and Kaminari. Fumikage hadn’t been too sure about it, but before he could even take the time to think it over, Kaminari had recruited Bakugou as their drummer and Jirou had brought in Yaoyorozu for the keyboard. It all happened so fast that Fumikage missed the timing to back out of the whole deal. By the time Jirou had started picking songs for them to cover, Fumikage had given up and surrendered to his fate.
Surprisingly enough, everything about the band had exceeded Fumikage’s expectations. Everybody turned out to be excellent with their respective instruments, Jirou had been an incredible vocalist, and their audience had loved them so much that they’d been able to book a second gig straight away after the first one.
And another thing that Fumikage had not expected after the end of their very first concert: stumbling into Bakugou backstage while they were both still full of adrenaline and floating on the high of their successful performance, which somehow translated into stumbling straight into Bakugou’s bed. Fumikage had never been the kind of person to spontaneously sleep with anybody, but the pull had been magnetic, almost electric, his blood still singing with how he’d played his guitar seamlessly to the beat of Bakugou’s drumming.
So yes, they’d fallen into bed together and it had been such a pleasurable experience that they’d done it again after their second gig, then again after the third. After that, it started happening even without any concerts beforehand. Before Fumikage knew it, it had become a regular sort of occurrence.
So yes, Fumikage somehow landed himself in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Bakugou—as much as Keigo had been horrified about it when he’d found out in a rather embarrassing way—but that was the end of it. Their relationship wasn’t serious; it was purely friendly and physical. It’s not like Bakugou liked Fumikage, and Fumikage himself was fine with that. He liked their casual rapport the way it was, and he figured that Bakugou didn’t do sincere emotions anyway.
What they had worked for both of them, and they didn’t need to change that.
-
It’s a sunny Friday morning when Fumikage leaves his Advanced Biology lecture with Tsuyu, his head nearly spinning from the amount of information that he’s had to absorb. Fumikage has never been the best at academics, even if it pains him to admit it, and he knows his future in research is going to be a grueling one. That said, at least he didn’t pass out while dissecting a frog like Tsuyu did.
“Do you want to borrow my notes?” Tsuyu asks after taking a look at his face.
Fumikage wonders how despondent he looks right now, to provoke a reaction like that. “I would appreciate it.”
They chat as they head across campus and split up when Fumikage heads for the library while Tsuyu goes to her next lecture. Fumikage has one more lecture in an hour, then he can grab lunch and go home. He doesn’t have any plans for the day, so it’ll be nice to relax after a long week.
Fumikage goes to the second floor of the library, because that’s where he can find the most comfortable seats. If the lounge chairs have all been been taken, he can try the third floor, where the chairs aren’t quite as comfortable but the space is much quieter.
He heads to the eastern side of the library, where the view is better, and he’s pleasantly surprised to find several familiar faces taking up the couches in the corner.
“Hey, Tokoyami!” Kaminari waves, and then gets elbowed by Sero for being too loud. He lowers his voice. “You done for the day yet?”
“Not yet.” Fumikage shrugs. “I have one more lecture in an hour.”
“Yeah?” Kirishima jumps up from his seat and rushes over to tug on Fumikage’s shirt sleeve. He looks excited, for some unfathomable reason. “Then you wanna sit with us til you gotta go?”
Fumikage can’t quite say no to such an eager face. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Cool!” Kirishima pulls him over and deposits Fumikage in the empty seat he just vacated. Kirishima then sits on the perpendicular couch, forcing Sero to scoot over. “We were just chilling, but if you gotta study, we can keep it down.”
“I’m just copying a friend’s notes.” Fumikage pulls out his notebook and then Tsuyu’s. “It’s quite alright if you’re loud.”
“I mean, Bakugou is the loudest out of all of us,” Sero says with a snicker.
Bakugou growls from where he’s sitting next to Fumikage. “I’m gonna fucking throw you outta the window.”
“Aw, you wouldn’t.” Sero bats his eyelashes.
“I sure as hell would.”
Kaminari clears his throat and leans in closer with a bright smile. “Hey, Bakugou and I are heading to the music store on Fujiyama Street today. Wanna join? We’re thinking maybe 2 o’clock.”
Fumikage considers it. He’s been thinking about getting a new guitar strap anyway, so he might as well. “That works for me.”
“Awesome.” Kaminari beams at him. “We’ll meet up at the campus front gate.”
“Sounds good.” Fumikage glances to the side to see red eyes glaring at him. Bakugou doesn’t look angry, but there’s something…foreboding…about the look on his face. “Do you mind if I join?”
Bakugou stares at him for a moment, then turns his head to glare out the window. “It’s fine.”
Fumikage isn’t sure if Bakugou actually feels fine with him joining in, but he didn’t survive nearly three years of knowing Bakugou by questioning him, so he simply nods. If Bakugou says it’s fine, then Fumikage will take him at his word. “Alright.”
“Lighten up, Bakugou,” Kirishima says with a chuckle. “It’s the weekend!”
As the others chat, Funikage flips open the two notebooks on the table and starts copying Tsuyu’s notes. He thinks Kirishima has a point. It’s a Friday, and Fumikage intends to get all his studying done early so he can enjoy the rest of the day.
An afternoon out with Bakugou and Kaminari would be a good start.
-
Fumikage arrives at the front gates with three minutes to spare, and he isn’t surprised to find Bakugou already there. Bakugou might seem like a delinquent, but he’s one of the most punctual people Fumikage has ever met.
Kaminari, on the other hand, tends to run late no matter how hard he tries, so Fumikage fully expects to be stuck waiting for a good five to ten minutes.
But then barely a minute past 2 o’clock, Fumikage and Bakugou’s phones ding simultaneously. Fumikage pulls his out to see a text from Kaminari saying he has a stomachache and can’t join them. There’s a long, rambling apology punctuated with encouragement that they have fun without him.
“It seems like we’re on our own,” Fumikage comments, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He glances sideways at Bakugou and notes the other’s pinched expression. He looks a little displeased, and Fumikage wonders if Bakugou is bothered by the prospect of spending time alone with him.
He mentally shakes his head and dispels the notion quickly. Bakugou has spent plenty of time with Fumikage until now—both in public and private—and he’s fairly certain Bakugou wouldn’t put up with anybody against his will.
But then again, Bakugou has seemed a little more strained lately in Fumikage’s presence. Not that he knows how Bakugou is in his absence anyway, but…
“If you want to do this another time when Kaminari can join us,” Fumikage begins.
“It’s fine.” Bakugou pockets his phone and rolls his shoulders, and Fumikage tries not to stare at how well-built they are. Firefighting in his free time has certainly enhanced Bakugou’s already-impressive physique, which is only more obvious when he is wearing short sleeves. “Let’s go, bird brain.”
Fumikage hesitates, then nods. “Alright.”
-
They end up spending only fifteen minutes in the store. Neither Bakugou nor Fumikage are the kind of people to dither over making choices, and they decide on what they want to buy fairly quickly. Fumikage settles on a deep red guitar strap that matches the shade of his favorite choker, and Bakugou picks up a set of tension rods he’d been looking for. After they make their purchases, they exit the store and stand on the sidewalk in silence.
“That was quick,” Fumikage says, because he can’t find anything else to say.
Bakugou grunts in agreement. “Guess it was faster without that dumbass. He would’ve taken all day choosing between guitar picks.”
Fumikage can’t entirely disagree. Kaminari is extraordinarily indecisive, after all. The singular saving grace is that Kaminari doesn’t mind when other people make the decisions in his stead. “I suppose so.”
There’s another beat of silence, and then Fumikage is just about to say that he’s heading home when Bakugou looks towards him, his red eyes frightfully sharp. “I’m going back to my place. You wanna come along or what?”
Fumikage blinks once, then twice. It’s nowhere near the first time Bakugou has said something along these lines—they’ve been sleeping together for nearly two years now—but for a fleeting moment, he could’ve sworn Bakugou sounded a little nervous. “If you’re willing to have me over, then yes.”
Bakugou huffs, and the tension that Fumikage hadn’t noticed leaves his posture. “Tsk. Let’s go, then.”
With a nod, Fumikage waits for Bakugou to lead the way, ready to follow alongside him. And for a split second, Bakugou doesn’t quite move. His right hand twitches, as if it wants to grab hold of something, and his eyes glance a little downward to Fumikage’s side. Then, as if that moment of hesitation never happened, Bakugou starts walking, shoving both hands into his jacket’s pockets as he goes.
Fumikage wonders what that was about, even as he falls into step beside Bakugou without a word. He could’ve sworn Bakugou was about to do something, but it’d been like he’d held himself back. Which is a preposterous idea; Fumikage has never seen Bakugou hold himself back before.
Actually, he has. Specifically, Bakugou has made a point out of staying at least an arm’s reach away from Fumikage whenever Keigo is around. Not that the three of them are in the same room very often, but it’s noticeable whenever it happens. It’s odd that Bakugou would be so cowed by Keigo, who isn’t all that physically imposing, but Fumikage is glad that Bakugou at least chooses to try to stay on Keigo’s good side rather than straight out antagonize him.
Fumikage loves his brother very much, and he doesn’t think he could keep an arrangement going on with somebody his brother disapproves of.
That said, Keigo can be overly protective, and Fumikage isn’t sure he’ll approve of anybody as Fumikage’s partner.
Well, at least if they’re at Bakugou’s place, they won’t need to worry about Fumikage’s protective older brother barging in on them.
-
One thing Fumikage should have accounted for: his brother doesn’t need to be there in person to interrupt them.
He’s shirtless and halfway in Bakugou’s lap, swallowing back an embarrassing noise as Bakugou bites at his skin where shoulder meets neck. Callused fingers tease at Fumikage’s bare skin right above the waistband of his jeans, and Fumikage is just about ready to strip that off as well—when his phone starts ringing. Very loudly.
Fumikage groans. His phone happens to be screen-up on the rug and he can see that the caller is Keigo. “I need to get that.”
Bakugou holds up both his hands as if in surrender—which is a bizarre look on him—and Fumikage climbs off Bakugou’s bed to grab his phone and answer the call. “Yes, Keigo?”
“Mrs. Asui asked if we wanted to have dinner together tonight.” Keigo sounds cheerful, completely oblivious to how efficiently he’s killing the mood on Fumikage’s end. “You gonna make it home by 6:30?”
“Yes,” Fumikage says. “I’ll be there.”
“Awesome. See you soon,” Keigo says, and then he hangs up.
Sighing, Fumikage lowers his phone from his ear. He looks at Bakugou, who looks disgruntled and chagrined at the same time.
“I can’t believe your brother fucking cockblocked us long-distance,” Bakugou grouses, running a hand through his hair in a way that makes Fumikage’s blood warm up under his skin. Going by how pissed off he looks, he must be pretty pent up. It’s probably a bad thing that Fumikage finds that expression on Bakugou quite attractive.
“So?” Fumikage asks, muting his phone and then dropping it onto the rug once more. He steps over to shove Bakugou backwards so that he’s laying on the bed, then climbs up so that he’s hovering over Bakugou. He’s quite pleased by the wide-eyed look on Bakugou’s face, which he sees on the rare occasion when Bakugou is taken completely off-guard. “Are you really going to let my brother stop us?”
Bakugou stares at him, then grins. “Hell no.”
When Bakugou tugs Fumikage closer by his belt loops for a kiss, Fumikage goes down with a smile.
-
Fumikage is pretty satisfied by the time he’s pulling his clothes back on. He’s fairly certain Bakugou is as well, judging by the way he lounges on the bed without frowning for once.
“You gonna stay for dinner?” Bakugou asks in a casual tone.
“I have dinner plans.” It’s mildly disappointing. Bakugou is a talented cook, and Fumikage would take advantage of that if he could. “So I’ll get going now.”
A muscle in Bakugou’s jaw twitches, but his voice is still casual when he says, “Sure. Maybe next time, then.”
Fumikage wonders if it’s really dinner that Bakugou’s angling for, or if it’s just more sex. It’s probably the latter. Bakugou doesn’t need to bribe Fumikage to bring him to bed, but if he’s offering, Fumikage isn’t refusing. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later.”
Bakugou’s huffs softly. “Yeah, see you later.”
-
Fumikage and Tsuyu and Mezou usually have to coordinate their schedules to spend time together. Between Mezou’s work schedule as an EMT and Fumikage’s and Tsuyu’s university classes, the three of them don’t have a lot of free time that overlap. Especially because Fumikage has band practice regularly and Tsuyu has a part-time job as a lifeguard at the local pool. It’s quite rare for them to be able to socialize together for a whole day, but they make the effort to do so at least once a month.
Today is one of those days, when the three of them are eating tacos downtown for lunch as they exchange stories about what they’ve been up to.
“It was pretty bizarre,” Mezou says as he describes a recent incident where he’d had to administer aid to a man who had his ear bitten clean off by some raving lunatic. “You’d expect that kind of injury from a wild animal, not a person.”
“Of all the things to bite off, too.” Tsuyu presses her index finger to her chin. “It couldn’t have been easy to reach the ear.”
Fumikage takes a sip of his soda and glances out the window they’re sitting by, and then he finds his gaze lingering on a shock of red. The weather is sunny and the streets are busy outside, but it’s still quite easy to catch sight of Kirishima rounding the corner of the block across from them.
And once he finds Kirishima, it’s not that hard to see Bakugou beside him. As opposed to Kirishima’s obvious good mood, Bakugou looks a little bored. Calm, in a way that takes away his more aggressive edge, but definitely bored.
“Oh, isn’t that Bakugou and Kirishima?” Tsuyu asks once she notices the direction Fumikage is staring in.
“Indeed it is.” Fumikage watches the two of them for another second and then rips his gaze away to focus back on his friends, only to find the both of them still staring out the window. Fumikage rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his soda. He’s not going to watch Bakugou until he’s out of sight. Even if a part of him wants to.
“Well, not that I’m surprised,” Mezou says, still looking out the window, and Fumikage can’t help but glance towards where his friends’ gazes are riveted. “But damn.”
Fumikage watches two girls shyly approach Bakugou and Kirishima, who have pulled up to a stop to respond to the girls. Kirishima looks bashful, but Bakugou simply looks unimpressed. Like this happens to him regularly.
Fumikage knows for a fact that it does, in fact, happen regularly. Bakugou is incredibly popular despite his often surly expression and grouchy moods. His good looks are more than enough to let people overlook his attitude. So it doesn’t surprise Fumikage that Bakugou has people approaching him out of the blue, and it doesn’t surprise him when Bakugou brushes the girls off and keeps walking while Kirishima apologizes to them as he rushes to catch up.
“That was interesting,” Tsuyu notes. “This is my first time seeing anybody try to make a move on Bakugou.”
Mezou nudges Fumikage. “You’ve made a move though, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t.” Fumikage rolls his eyes. He never initiates any of the sex, mostly because he’s never quite sure when Bakugou is actually in the mood for it, but also partly because he is always half-convinced that Bakugou is ready to move on from him. Considering how popular Bakugou is, it’s surprising that he hasn’t found someone else to sleep with all this time.
Fumikage wonders why Bakugou still keeps having sex with him. Maybe it’s because he can’t be bothered to find a new partner. Maybe it’s just because Fumikage is convenient. The reason doesn’t really matter to Fumikage, to be honest.
And as for Fumikage, well. He still keeps having sex with Bakugou because he doesn’t feel like pushing Bakugou away whenever he initiates. It’s as simple as that.
-
“It was a long time coming, but damn.” Keigo laughs. “I still can’t believe Mirko and Ryukyu are officially dating now.”
Fumikage takes a piece of sausage and chews on it. They’re having a lazy brunch before Keigo heads out to go on a date with Todoroki, which is a rare occasion. Keigo and Todoroki have been going on outdoor dates more often nowadays, and while Fumikage isn’t sure if this is because they’ve decided to spare him from their domesticity or if it’s because they’ve grown more confident in showing off their relationship, this is much better for Fumikage’s peace of mind. He’s definitely not complaining.
“Is there a way to unofficially date somebody?” Fumikage asks.
Keigo shrugs. “I mean, sure. You get a couple who don’t acknowledge that they’re a couple, then voila! Unofficially dating.”
“Hmm.” Fumikage wonders who might qualify. People dating in secret? Or people who are in denial, doing everything a pair in a relationship would do without actually recognizing themselves as a couple? He’s not sure. What he knows for sure if that least two of his friends have started officially dating somebody else in the past month. “Looks like everybody is pairing up.”
With a snicker, Keigo settles his chin on one hand. “Get yourself a date if you’re jealous.”
Fumikage rolls his eyes. “I’m not jealous. I don’t really care for dating.”
Keigo blinks, grin sliding off his face. “Like, at all?”
Fumikage shrugs. “I’m simply not interested right now.”
“Huh.” Keigo stares for a second, then leans back in his seat and rolls his shoulders. “Okay, well. If that’s what you want.”
It’s not like Fumikage wants to stay single. But there’s nobody he wants to date, either. He’s busy living his life as it is, and he’s not eager to seek out a relationship at this stage. On the other hand, if the right opportunity and person came along, Fumikage wouldn’t say no.
But right now, Fumikage is okay with what he has. He doesn’t need any more than this.
-
Their band practice session is winding down in the music room of the Yaoyorozu mansion when Bakugou asks, “Do you need any tutoring?”
Fumikage pauses his strumming of the guitar, confused. “No, not for the moment. Why?”
“Half ‘n Half said,” Bakugou starts, then shakes his head. “Never mind. So you’re doing okay with all your classes and shit?”
“Well,” Fumikage says slowly, still unsure where this is coming from or where it’s heading, “I have to give a presentation for my Japanese literature class. Public speaking is not my specialty, so it’s going to be difficult. But at least I’ve put the powerpoint together.”
Bakugou hums, then crosses his arms. He sounds almost like he’s challenging Fumikage when he says, “Then you can practice with me. I’ll be your test audience or whatever.”
The internal confusion intensifies, but Fumikage doesn’t forget his manners. “Well, if you’re offering, I’d be grateful.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Bakugou twirls a drumstick around his finger, which is something he does when he’s impatient, but his tone is cautious. “Tomorrow, my place?”
Oh, Bakugou wants an excuse to invite Fumikage over. Well, that explains a lot. “Tomorrow works for me. What time?”
Bakugou’s expression smooths out a little. He almost looks pleased. “3 PM.”
“Alright, that sounds good.” Fumikage strums his guitar once and vaguely notes the way Bakugou’s gaze tracks the movement of his hands. Hmm, come to think of it, he thinks Bakugou was looking at his hand before, after they’d left the music store. Maybe Bakugou has a very specific kink regarding hands. Not that Fumikage has seen evidence of such a thing in the past few years, but still. Sometimes people repress these things to prevent scaring their partners.
Fumikage thinks he might need to invest in some hand lotion.
-
The next day, Fumikage arrives at Bakugou’s studio apartment five minutes early with his laptop and notebook in his messenger bag. He didn’t bother with lube—he knows Bakugou keeps enough on hand anyway—but he did pack extra condoms, just in case. They haven’t had sex in a while, so he figures it’s possible that Bakugou might want to go multiple rounds today.
“Stand over there,” Bakugou instructs when Fumikage pulls the laptop out. “Put the laptop on the dining table and start talking when you’re ready.”
Bakugou has dragged one of his dining chairs to the center of the apartment so he can sit facing Fumikage and the laptop screen. It’s nothing like a real lecture hall, but Fumikage feels alert and slightly tense just from the way Bakugou looks at him with an assessing eye that is reminiscent of a predator’s. It feels a lot like he’s trying to gauge how to take Fumikage apart and put him back together, and something about that idea feels very dangerous.
Fumikage clears his throat and shakes off the nerves. If he can’t give a presentation in front of Bakugou, he stands no chance against two dozen of his cohort. “My presentation today is about the poet Hideo Yoshino, who specialized in tanka poetry.”
He keeps a timer running on his phone as he proceeds through the slides and gives examples of the poet’s works and the messages they carried. The presentation is meant to be roughly eight minutes long, and Fumikage manages to spend seven minutes and fifty-two seconds explaining Showa period poetry. And for the entire time, Bakugou’s attention doesn’t waver, even though the subject must be entirely irrelevant and boring to him.
“Thank you for listening to my presentation,” Fumikage concludes, and he bows for good measure.
Bakugou doesn’t applaud, but he does hum thoughtfully, his gaze flickering between Fumikage and the laptop. “Not too bad, bird brain.”
“I appreciate the compliment,” Fumikage says dryly.
“You can’t just stare at your notes and screen, though.” Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “You gotta look at your audience, too.”
Fumikage can’t say that he avoided looking in his audience’s direction because he finds the the sight of Bakugou rather distracting. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And your powerpoint is too wordy.” Bakugou taps his fingers against one knee. It’s a sign that he’s restless. “Especially the fourth slide. Just keep the keywords and ditch the full sentences. You’re not gonna read off of ‘em verbatim anyway.”
Okay, so Fumikage hadn’t been expecting this much feedback. He should’ve known better than to be surprised, though; Bakugou is thorough with everything he does, and this apparently applies even to constructive criticism.
“Do you have any suggestions as to how to trim the bullet points down, then?” Fumikage asks, nudging his laptop as an invitation.
Bakugou gets up and walks over, grumbling under his breath. Fumikage has to swallow his amusement down before it shows on his face, because Bakugou can be too predictable sometimes. If you show him something subpar and invite him to do a better job, Bakugou will always rise to the challenge. Especially if you’re his friend; he’s soft on the people he cares about.
He watches Bakugou delete half the words off his powerpoint—Fumikage has to begrudgingly admit that the slides look much better this way—and reorganize a couple bullet points to improve the flow. Bakugou even explains why he’s making certain changes for Fumikage to be aware of, and Fumikage scribbles down the important parts onto his presentation notes.
It takes Bakugou a little less than ten minutes to pare down the powerpoint into a much more streamlined, aesthetically pleasing version. Fumikage envies Bakugou’s intellect a little. “You better fucking get top scores for this, or I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Very encouraging.” Fumikage rolls his eyes, but his mouth curves into a smile anyway. “I’m very grateful for your help, Bakugou.”
He closes the laptop and slides it into his bag, making quick work of zipping it up because he expects Bakugou to invite him to bed any minute now. It does make Fumikage wonder if this feels like exchanging favors for sex—letting Bakugou have his way with him as payment for helping Fumikage’s academic endeavors maybe could be construed that way—but he figures this is well within the boundaries of friendship with benefits.
Fumikage turns around to look at Bakugou, fully expecting Bakugou to pounce, and then—
“It’s kinda early for dinner,” Bakugou comments. “Want some coffee?”
Um.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Fumikage says on autopilot, even though he’s taken aback and mentally flailing a little. “I wasn’t aware you had a coffeemaker.’
“I don’t,” Bakugou says, once again knocking Fumikage off-kilter. “There’s a cafe on the corner of this block. It shouldn’t be too busy right now, so we can chill there for a bit before we come back. You’re staying for dinner, right?”
Fumikage doesn’t have dinner plans; Keigo is on duty today and he’d figured he’d just eat the leftover lasagna in the fridge. So even though he’s confused as hell, he says, “Yes, if you’ll have me.”
A corner of Bakugou’s mouth twitches. “Good. Let’s go.”
Which is how Fumikage ends up at a nice cafe—it’s very retro and decorated mostly with greens and browns—sitting across from Bakugou in a corner. He’s drinking a chai latte while Bakugou is neglecting his mug of black coffee on the table. Fumikage can’t help but wonder why Bakugou invited him out for coffee if he isn’t going to even drink it.
Maybe Bakugou wanted to wait until after dinner for sex? Not that Bakugou was the kind of person who felt shy about getting naked in the daytime, but it was the only explanation for why Bakugou had chosen to leave his apartment in favor of spending time aimlessly with Fumikage outside.
“Ponytail said we’re gonna reach six-thousand followers on Twitter soon,” Bakugou says. It’s such a random statement that Fumikage can’t even find a neutral response to it. “Said something about doing a livestream to celebrate or whatever.”
Oh, Fumikage recalls Jirou tossing out such an idea a while ago. “It seems like a good opportunity to reward our followers.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “As if watching a stream is anything like watching a show live.”
“It’s very different,” Fumikage agrees.
From there, they move onto how their favorite bands are doing, and Fumikage’s bewilderment only grows. Bakugou’s never been the type to indulge in small talk; his conversations tend to go straight to the point or end up becoming debates about all kinds of topics. This, however, feels a lot like Bakugou is humoring Fumikage by continuing the conversation as he segues into what they’ve been up to in their spare time.
It’s odd. Bakugou always has a goal in mind for everything he does; all the time he spends with Fumikage serves a purpose, whether it be going to check out promising venues for shows or to eat at newly opened restaurants or to even just study together. Bakugou doesn’t kill time, but right now, that seems to be exactly what he’s doing: killing time until dinner.
Is this the world’s weirdest form of foreplay?
Surely things will make more sense later, Fumikage thinks. Bakugou is easier to understand when he’s stripped of his clothes and inhibitions and defense mechanisms. Fumikage can figure it out after dinner.
-
Except, Bakugou cooks him dinner—which is incredibly delicious and worth killing two hours for—and then he just says, “I’m going to clean up and go to bed early. Don’t forget to practice your presentation one more time.”
Fumikage blinks. “Pardon?”
“Let me know how it goes,” Bakugou says, and Fumikage isn’t foolish enough to ignore the subtle but firm demand for him to go home.
“Thank you for today.” Fumikage slings his bag over his shoulder and pauses at the doorway. Bakugou is giving him a strange look, too shuttered for Fumikage to gauge any emotions there, but just obvious enough for him to wonder if Bakugou is swallowing something back. “I’ll see you on campus, then.”
Bakugou blinks, his expression going curiously blank. “Yeah, see you.”
With that, Fumikage leaves.
-
Back in his own bed at home, Fumikage stares up at the ceiling and wonders if something is going wrong. Bakugou doesn’t seem interested in sex lately—he hasn’t initiated in a few weeks. And that’s not exactly a problem, per se, since Fumikage isn’t exactly hungry for it either, but it’s odd. And maybe slightly worrisome.
Is Bakugou losing interest in him? It’s entirely possible. Maybe they’ll never sleep together again, with no explanation or announcement given to end things. They don’t have anything to end, because they never officially started anything, either.
So maybe this is it. Fumikage would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this to happen eventually.
Then why, Fumikage wonders, is he so disappointed about it?