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Eijirou had been crushing on the same guy for over a year.
It all started in English class. He was running late for his first day, and embarrassingly stumbled in ten minutes past the bell. As Eijirou shuffled towards the back of the auditorium with reddened cheeks and all eyes on him, the most handsome man he had ever seen caught his attention.
His name was Bakugou Katsuki. Eijirou learned this from his roommate Denki, who happened to be in a band with him—which wasn’t a shock. Bakugou definitely looked like someone who played the drums in a hardcore group.
Or at least, he assumed.
Eijirou unsurprisingly knew nothing about the hardcore scene, and that made asking Bakugou out, in his opinion, completely impossible. He knew he wasn’t cool enough for someone like him. Eijirou played American football on scholarship—he was a jock meathead that loved lifting weights and eating protein bars. He wasn’t quite sure he was Bakugou’s type.
Ok. That was a lie. Eijirou was positive he wasn’t Bakugou’s type.
They had been around each other plenty of times, and Eijirou was convinced Bakugou didn’t know he existed. He had been inside his apartment on more than one occasion, for god sake! How on earth could you possibly miss someone who stood at 6 '5 and rocked unnaturally vibrant red hair like him?
Yeah, no way.
Eijirou tried to get Bakugou’s attention—but only after doing some research. Each time he saw Bakugou in a band t-shirt, he wrote down the group name in his notes app and listened to them later. He had to admit he liked some of it, which was great because if he wanted to talk to Bakugou about music, he’d sound more authentic!
Unfortunately, he never got the chance. Though, one time Bakugou did look in his direction and scoffed.
That was fine though. Eijirou wasn’t going to give up.
Through the months of partying with mutual friends and their single shared class, Eijirou noticed that Bakugou didn’t seem to care for anyone. Even his friends annoyed him—and that gave Eijirou hope, for some odd reason. In his mind, if Bakugou was like this to everyone else, then maybe he still had a chance.
He just needed a gameplan. Getting Bakugou’s attention was going to be a lot harder than playing a game of football—and Eijirou had had his teeth cracked and bones broken in the past.
Casual conversation was off the table. Eijirou tried to start it up more than a handful of times. Sure, he never had the chance to get Bakugou alone, but that didn’t keep him from trying to chat whenever they were surrounded by people. It’s not like he wanted to be a creep and try to corner him, so Eijirou made do with what the universe provided.
His choice of topics to wrangle Bakugou in for a meaningful conversation never worked—because they sucked.
“I like your shoes, man!”
“How’d you do on your last essay?”
“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow! Do you have any outdoor plans?”
Bakugou still didn’t want to talk.
Eijirou’s friends suggested a few possible remedies to his fruitless attempts at grabbing Bakugou’s attention. “Just talk to him,” was the most common one. The thing was, Eijirou didn’t understand how he was going to get Bakugou to talk to him when he clearly didn’t want to.
“Then get him alone.”
That was always the reply to Eijirou’s excuse.
But, that was the thing. Even though Eijirou was a self proclaimed manly man, sometimes he still lacked the self confidence to do things he wanted—like asking out Bakugou.
Rejection was scary, ok?
“Too bad.”
Eijirou looked up from his lap to see Denki shaking his head at him.
“You’ll have the perfect opportunity to tell him tonight. Bakugou will be all happy and high off the performance—there’s literally no better time.”
“But…rejection.” Eijirou pouted.
“You’ll never know if you’ll get rejected unless you ask,” Hanta said from the other side of the couch.
“That’s true,” Eijirou mumbled in response.
“Then it’s decided!” Denki stood with a giant smile. “You’ll talk to him tonight!”
“It’s not decided!” Eijirou got up from the couch too. The show started in an hour, and he needed to get dressed. “I’ll just…feel everything out once we get there.”
Denki sighed. “Alright, Ei. Whatever works for you.”
“You’ve got this man. Don’t worry too much about it.” Hanta placed a caring hand on Eijirou’s shoulder.
It was too late for that. Eijirou had been worrying his head off for months. No one had ever made him feel this way. Bakugou was so alluring, like he was from a completely different planet where everyone was really cool and super sexy. Eijirou was from a world that breeds muscles, worships protein, and sweats profusely.
Ok…well, in reality, they were both humans from Earth. Bakugou was a punk, and Eijirou, a jock. Kinda like one of those fan fic tropes. They were opposites, and shouldn’t go together. But still, authors and artists tried to slam them into a happy ending where love conquers all.
Too bad this wasn’t a fan fic.
Denki headed over to the venue early to set up, and Hanta decided to accompany him. Eijirou was left to himself, where he changed his outfit seven times and accidentally snapped his toothbrush in a very shaky hand. By the time he was out the door, the sky was dark and a half-moon was the only thing illuminating the night.
He walked the couple blocks with his hands in his pockets. The strip was lined with restaurants and bars that local college students frequented for an escape from their studies. Eijirou ignored the groups of drunk people as they stumbled past, knowing he’d be dealing with much drunker once he got to the venue. Shows were always rowdy. But that was part of the fun, he supposed.
Things were already way past rowdy when Eijirou showed up. He hadn’t even reached the front door, and there were people on the sidewalk arguing and shoving each other. The closer Eijirou got, he realized one of them had blood pouring from his nose—which looked incredibly broken. He scooted past everyone fighting without a word, paid for his ticket, allowed security to pat him down, and slipped into the venue, ready to face his fear of rejection.
Maybe.
That was still up for debate.
“Hey! Ei!”
An arm snaked around his midsection as Mina came in for a side hug. “You look cute!”
Eijirou laughed and squeezed her lovingly in return. He had decided to switch out his usual jock attire for a plain dark t-shirt and black jeans. “Thanks, Min!” Eijirou replied, happy to know that he had made the right choice of clothes.
Hopefully Bakugou thinks he looks cute too.
“Come on, Camie wants booze. We need a tall person to get the bartender’s attention.” Mina took Eijirou’s hand and led the way to their short friend.
Towering over the majority of the crowd, Eijirou spotted Camie struggling to stay above water in what was the sea of people trying to get drinks at the bar. The moment she locked eyes with Eijirou, she excitedly waved him and Mina over.
“SOS! Save me, babes!” She said with a laugh.
“I got you, don’t worry, dude!” Eijirou shouted over the preshow playlist blasting through the venue speakers. “What are we drinkin’?”
“A double gin and tonic with extra lime for Camie, and a Jack and coke for me,” Mina said loud enough for Eijirou to hear her.
He gave the girls a thumbs up and pushed his way to the bar, ordering himself the same as Mina—but with double shots, along with the drinks for her and Camie. When he returned, the three of them clinked their plastic cups together and headed for the stage before the first group went on.
There were two bands playing before their friends, and Eijirou spent those two hours getting absolutely wasted with Mina and Camie. It was difficult to say no when you had two party girls on your hands who were willingly buying the drinks—and three double shots of whiskey later, Eijirou was having the time of his life moshing with (and protecting) Mina and Camie’s short selves.
The second group’s set came to an end, and Eijirou watched excitedly as the stage crew quickly set up for their friends. Mina and Camie were still beside him, drunkenly singing along to the background music, which Eijirou was pretty sure happened to be David Bowie—he was too intoxicated to tell with the added overstimulation of dozens of people talking around him.
The lights slowly dimmed until the venue was shrouded in darkness. Just barely, Eijirou could make out the figures of people walking across the stage and taking their position.
“Woo! Let’s fucking go!” Mina shouted excitedly and clapped her hands along with others in the crowd.
Eijirou smiled brightly and joined in, feeling loose and light from the energy surrounding him. “Hell yeah!”
A power cord was strummed, cutting through the noise and silencing everyone who had been cheering. Subtle light fell from the ceiling, slightly illuminating Kyouka, who was the lead singer of the group. As always, she looked timid with her head low and both hands holding the mic to her lips.
“Hey everyone, thanks for coming out,” she said softly, “we’re Gates of Hell.”
Everything went dark again. People cheered and screamed. Eijirou held his breath, waiting for the set to begin. His heart was racing in his chest. He was ready to mosh, he was ready to side-step—he was ready to tell Bakugou how he felt.
One hit of the kick drum and the venue was doused in a bright light that disappeared as swiftly as it came. Another followed, and Eijirou caught a glimpse of Bakugou behind the drums with a smirk on his face.
“I better see you guys lose your fucking minds, got it?!” Came Denki’s voice, followed by another kick of the drum and flash of light. “Get your asses moving and form a pit!”
The crowd pushed and shoved to make the formation, and the beat of the drum picked up in speed. A strum from Denki’s guitar buzzed through his brain, and Eijirou was ready to go. He quickly made sure Camie and Mina were still with him, not wanting to lose the girls. They smiled excitedly at him, just as ready to start moving. He turned his attention to the stage and watched Kyouka bend low. She pressed the microphone to her lips, and loud, fast vocals came pouring from her mouth.
And everyone began to thrash.
Eijirou had the time of his life while sweating his ass off, bumping into other sweaty bodies that were having just as much fun as he was. Everyone pushed and shoved, but moved in unison. Fast paced guitar riffs, heavy drums, and Kyouka’s high pitched shouting carried every motion made by the crowd. Some crawled from the back, being lifted and carried to the front where security guards had to catch them. Others dove off the stage and surfed a wave of arms until being set down. There was so much chaos, but it was an organizational art that only made sense to people who’ve experienced it.
Throughout the set, Eijirou kept looking at Bakugou. He was shirtless, dressed in nothing but combat boots and a fucking kilt that was an orange, green, and black plaid. It was short, and with Bakugou’s legs spread wide, Eijirou could see right up it— and, well, he sure wasn’t complaining. Every muscle visible on Bakugou’s body flexed while he played. Maybe it was the liquor that helped him notice, but Eijirou never realized how fit Bakugou was. He had a lean figure and tight waist, and his arms and legs looked like they could lift quite a bit—Eijirou had to keep himself from day dreaming or else he’d get his ass knocked down by the raging crowd surrounding him.
Time flew by, and after an hour of blaring music and endless moshing, the set was finished.
Eijirou was an exhausted wreck by the end of it all. He was drunk, sore, and dehydrated as
hell. When he stepped outside with Mina and Camie for fresh air, he took in oxygen with dramatic heaps while leaned against the cold building.
“I’m dead.” Mina laughed while fanning her face with her hand.
“Me too.” Eijirou sighed with a giant smile.
“I need a hot dog,” Camie said, and both Eijirou and Mina gave her confused looks. She pointed towards a street cart where two men were serving food to the show goers filing out of the venue. “BRB.” Camie waited for no one, turning away and marching over to the cart like the determined woman she was.
Mina leaned against the wall with Eijirou and groaned. “I’m definitely calling out of work tomorrow.”
“Again?” Eijirou teased, and Mina nudged him with her shoulder.
“I gotta find a job where I don’t have to work weekends. It’s kicking my ass. I’m definitely not a 20 year old anymore.” She laughed. “Late nights and early mornings are so not my thing.”
“Ayo! I was looking for you guys!”
Hanta, Denki, and Kyouka had made their way out, and found Eijirou and Mina amongst the crowd.
“Where’s Cam? Did she get swept away?” Denki asked just as Camie reappeared with her hot dog.
“Hey, asshole, I’m not that short.” She bumped him with her hip and handed Eijirou and Mina bottles of water she had kindly purchased for them.
Eijirou gratefully accepted Camie’s gift and downed his water in one go. He gasped dramatically once finishing, and tossed it into a nearby trashcan.
“Sheesh, didn’t know you were that thirsty,” Camie said after swallowing a bite of her hot dog.
Mina laughed. “Are you kidding? Ei’s parched after staring at Bakugou all night.”
Eijirou was going to explode, fully flustered by his friends’ teasing.
“Oh hey—where even is he?” Camie asked Denki and Kyouka with a raised brow. “Does he think he’s too good for his friends?”
“I mean, yeah.” Hanta shrugged, and Denki rolled his eyes.
Everyone knew how Bakugou was.
“He snuck around back, probably having a cigarette before he packs his stuff and heads home.” Kyouka twirled a piece of her hair.
“You should catch him while he’s in a good mood.” Denki winked, and Eijirou swallowed nervously, knowing he was right.
It was now or never. At least once he got Bakugou’s answer, he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore.
“Go get him, tiger.” Mina clapped Eijirou on the shoulder and then pushed him in the direction of the alley that led around to the back of the venue.
Now that Eijirou wasn’t surrounded by people while music blasted through his ears, he had enough wits about him to realize how drunk he still was. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to talk to Bakugou in a state like this, but when he turned to look at his friends, they all waved at him, encouraging Eijirou to go.
So, he did. Eijirou walked down the alley, and turned the corner—and was surprised to see Bakugou leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
Which…he shouldn’t be surprised at all. Denki and Kyouka literally told him a second ago where Bakugou was. Still, the shock of seeing him there, shirtless and in that short kilt, had Eijirou second guessing himself.
“Hi.”
The word slipped from his lips before Eijirou had a moment to process what he was saying.
Bakugou exhaled smoke from his nose and stared at him like he was an idiot—and to be fair, he sort of was based on how this interaction was going so far.
Eijirou cleared his throat. “Great show, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
A reply wasn’t something Eijirou expected to get, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Yeah, no problem, man.”
Awkward silence surrounded them. Eijirou could hear his own heartbeat. This wasn’t good. He needed to think of something else to say. His intoxicated brain immediately told him he should bring up Bakugou’s kilt.
“Never seen someone look so good in a kilt.”
Nice word vomit, Eijirou.
He desperately wanted to turn and smack his head into the wall Bakugou was resting on.
“I mean—I’ve never really seen anyone in a kilt. I don’t know why I said that.” Eijirou bit his lip, looking anywhere but Bakugou’s judgement-filled gaze. “I’m sure you look good in everything you wear. At least, everything I’ve seen you dressed in so far, you look good.”
Bakugou still had yet to say anything aside from the single “thanks” he had given Eijirou.
“Not like I pay attention to what you’re wearing all the time or anything.” Eijirou continued to drunkenly ramble. He was past the point of no return, now. “Well—at one point I was looking up the bands you wear t-shirts of.”
Now you sound like a creep.
“They’re pretty good—like, Jesus Piece? I really enjoyed their music. Nails, Xibalba, and Full of Hell too. I actually made a playlist that you might like…”
Stop talking. You’re doing terribly. You are the biggest idiot known to man.
Bakugou arched a brow. “Yeah?”
Alright, he said another word. Perhaps Eijirou wasn’t doing as bad as he thought.
“Yeah.” Eijirou smiled slightly. “I was thinking that—I don’t know—” he paused and looked at his feet, “we could hang out sometime and listen to it.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
Eijirou nodded his head. “I think I am.”
“You think, or you are?” Bakugou asked and took a drag of his cigarette.
“I am,” Eijirou answered immediately. “I am asking you on a date.” He sounded so sure, even though he couldn’t believe he had gotten this far.
It was time to get smacked in the face with rejection. He braced himself for it.
“Are you drunk?”
That…wasn’t what Eijirou was expecting to hear.
“Yeah,” he said bashfully.
Bakugou stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and opened a small tin container to put the butt in. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”
Eijirou wasn’t expecting to hear that either.
“I, uh—” He was still in shock. Eijirou was waiting for the “no”, but it didn’t come. He nodded at Bakugou and smiled. “Ok, I can do that.”
“Sure hope so.” Bakugou cracked his neck and rolled back his shoulders. “See you later.”
Eijirou watched as Bakugou turned on his heel and headed inside the venue.
“No fucking way,” he whispered to himself. Eijirou stared in the direction of where Bakugou disappeared for far too long, but he was taking his time processing what just happened.
Bakugou didn’t turn him down.
Now Eijirou just needed to get his number. Then he’d be set.
Everyone was proud of Eijirou for finally biting the bullet. He was pretty damn proud of himself too. After grabbing Bakugou’s number from Denki the following morning, Eijirou decided to wait one day before texting him. He didn’t want to come off as desperate.
Though, he absolutely was.
When Eijirou finally sat down to send Bakugou a message, it took him a solid 17 minutes before deciding on, “Hi, it’s Kirishima. Denki’s friend!”
All he could do was wait. And that’s what he did. Eijirou stayed in the same spot, staring at his phone. It’d be embarrassing for him to ever admit how his eyes lit up the moment he saw the typing speech bubble as Bakugou texted a reply.
Hey.
Eijirou was over the moon. He smiled wide at his screen.
I was wondering if I could buy you coffee?
Again, he waited. This time, Bakugou responded quicker.
Sure.
Eijirou’s smile got bigger.
Want to meet at Java Jump?
He really couldn’t believe this was happening! What could have been a drunken disaster was now a dream come true.
Tomorrow, 7am.
Oof.
7am on a Sunday? Brutal. Eijirou normally slept in until noon. But, this wasn’t an opportunity he wanted to miss.
Sounds good!
Bakugou didn’t reply. Eijirou didn’t expect him to.
He was a smiling mess for the rest of the day.
6:50am. Eijirou got to Java Jump ten minutes early because there was no way he’d ever forgive himself if he was late.
Bakugou walked through the door exactly at 7. Eijirou stood from the table he was waiting at and slammed his knees into it. It rocked back and forth loudly, and he quickly went to steady it. Every head in the cafe turned to look at him, and Eijirou let out an awkward, embarrassed laugh.
He met Bakugou at the counter, cheeks reddened. “Morning,” he said to the barista, who looked like she pitied him.
“What can I get for you two?”
“Iced mocha with caramel and coconut syrup, please,” Bakugou gave his order, and Eijirou was surprised by how sweet of a drink it was.
Bakugou seemed like a bitter black coffee sort of guy.
“That sounds good, I’ll get that too,” he said, and paid for their drinks.
Eijirou led the way back to the table he had just made an ass out of himself at, and pulled out a chair for Bakugou. He might be feeling a little off his game, but he’d never forget how to be a gentleman.
“Be right back,” he excused himself to grab their drinks from the bar, and returned. Eijirou sat down across from Bakugou, and slid him his cup. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me today.”
“No problem.”
Bakugou leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He was waiting for Eijirou to ask—which made sense, since that was the reason for all of this.
“Well, you know why I wanted to meet up,” Eijirou said a bit bashfully. He bit his lip and began to bounce his leg under the table. “And I can definitely promise I’m sober.”
Bakugou smiled.
He fucking smiled.
It was small, but Eijirou saw it.
“So…I was wondering,” Eijirou grinned with confidence and leaned in towards Bakugou, “if you’d want to go on a date sometime?”
“Aren’t we on one right now?” Bakugou smirked.
It took two wide eyed blinks before Eijirou remembered how to speak. “Uh—is it?”
Bakugou chuckled. “It can be.”
“Then, does that mean we’ll be going on a second date?”
“Yeah, it does.”
Eijirou was floating above the clouds. He couldn’t stop smiling. How in the world was a jock like him able to pull someone like Bakugou?
“We should listen to that playlist you mentioned.” Bakugou sipped his coffee and set the cup down. “Maybe while making out on my bed.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eijirou raised an eyebrow. “It’s almost three hours long. Do you think you can handle kissing me for that much time?”
Bakugou nodded. “Definitely.”
Good thing they got their coffees in to-go cups.
“Right now?” Eijirou asked, not caring how eager he sounded.
“Right now.” Bakugou confirmed.
Eijirou had never moved quicker in his life—not even during a football game. Him and Bakugou were out the door in what felt like seconds, climbed into his truck, and headed for Bakugou’s apartment.
Eijirou couldn’t help but think maybe fan fiction tropes can happen in real life.