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Katsuki doesn’t remember when his feelings for Kirishima had changed.
It was slow, but also sudden. It was a normal beating heart to a racing one, or a skip of beat. It was a simple thought, that turned into sleepless night just thinking of him. It all annoyed the absolute fuck out of Katsuki.
So he avoided it. He avoided Kirishima. He pretended he didn’t care. Pretended that he didn’t lay awake at night, thinking of the sad looks Kirishima would give him. Ignored the twist in his stomach at the sight of it.
Eventually, he just stopped. Avoiding Kirishima did nothing, and shoving down those feelings did nothing either. Plus, the overjoyed and relieved look Kirishima gave him when he finally started talking to him made the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach finally settle.
And he didn’t answer any questions the redhead asked either. When Kirishima noticed that Katsuki wasn’t going to give an answer, he just stopped questioning him, much to his great relief.
There are moments though, when Katsuki would take one long look at the other. At his blinding smile, sparkling ruby red eyes, annoyingly captivating laugh, and he would think of telling him everything. About Katsuki’s feelings, of his urges, of his thoughts that friends don’t and shouldn’t think about each other.
But then he’d realise that no, Katsuki is only a friend, maybe even a best friend, and that’s all he’ll ever be.
It leaves an ache at his chest when he thinks about it, but whatever. He’ll take what he can get, even if that means being just friends with Kirishima.
He’s still allowed to stare though. No one’s there to watch him, or judge him for it, so Katsuki will do whatever the fuck he wants.
Well, not entirely what he wants, but it’s still something.
Take now, for instance. Both of them in Katsuki’s room, seated on his bed. Kirishima, chatting enthusiastically about something that had happened at school today. Katsuki, holding an open book in his hands while he stares at Kirishima, memorising every detail, every imperfection and flaw.
“So Mina shouted at him to duck, okay?” He’s got a pretty laugh. The one he did now is soft and breathless, more of a giggle than a laugh, but it still reveals his sharp teeth and makes his eyes crinkle. “But instead of actually ducking, Kaminari shouts ‘quack!’ and gets hit in the head!” And there it is, a laugh. Bright and uncaring of the world. Katsuki finds his own lips twitching upwards as he watches the other.
His hair is down too, framing his face in a way Katsuki would not call cute. Well, not to Kirishima’s face. It keeps falling over his face, even when Kirishima pushes it back.
Bright laughter turns into soft, breathless chuckles. Kirishima drops his head, looking down in his lap. The action causes his bangs to cover his eyes, and a longer lock of hair to come down onto his face. Katsuki’s mouth goes strangely dry as he watches Kirishima tuck the lock of hair behind his ear, only for it to come falling back. The redhead doesn’t seem to make an attempt to push it back, only sighing softly and resting his head in his hand.
Katsuki wants to touch. He wants to touch Kirishima’s hair. He wants to know if it’s as soft as it looks. His hand twitches with the strange urge, but he ignores it. He lets himself imagine it though.
What would it feel like? Would it be soft, or would it be dry and damaged from all the products Kirishima uses? How would Kirishima react if he did that? Would he tilt his head, raising a brow at Katsuki in confusion? Would be feel uncomfortable, and tell Katsuki to stop? Would he smile softly, and lean into the touch?
Or would he look at Katsuki with wide eyes, a pretty blush colouring his cheeks?
Like he is right now?
Oh. Oh fuck.
Without thinking, Katsuki had done exactly that. He had reached over and tucked a lock of Kirishima’s hair behind his hair. And his hand still there.
Feeling his entire face flush, Katsuki shoves his hand away. He hunches his shoulders, he looks down at his book, pointedly looking away from the red eyes that are staring right at him.
But the world must really hate him, because Kirishima asks, “Uh, Bakugou? You...okay?”
“‘M fucking fine, shitty hair.” he mutters, still not looking at the other.
“Oh, okay.” Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything. Katsuki going to lose his fucking mind if Kirishima asks why he-
“Can you- can you do that again?”
Katsuki blinks down at his book. What? The fuck? Did he hear right?
He snaps his head up, finally looking at the other. It seems like the tables have turned though, because Kirishima’s face flushes even more, eyes darting at everywhere but the blonde.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to!” He says, voice higher than normal. Katsuki continues to gape.
But it seems as though Kirishima wasn’t going to stop rambling anytime soon, so Katsuki shuffles closer. Swallowing down his nerves and ignoring the loud thumping of his heart, he reaches over and rests his hand on Kirishima’s head, barely touching.
Kirishima tenses the moment his hand touches his head, but Katsuki doesn’t move it away. Instead, he moves his hand up and down in a petting motion. Kirishima stays tense until Katsuki uses his nails to scratch at his scalp lightly, and with a sigh Kirishima practically melts, shuffling closer to Katsuki and resting a head on his shoulder.
Heart jumping in his throat, Katsuki continues his actions. Of all the reactions Katsuki was expecting, this is not any of them, but it doesn’t fail to make him feel so many things at once. Floaty but jittery, warm but there’s goosebumps on his arms. Kirishima did all of that.
Speaking of which, he seems to be falling asleep now. Katsuki twirls a lock of red hair on his finger. It is as soft as it looks, but honestly, even if touching Kirishima’s hair felt like nails on chalkboard, Katsuki would still touch the other if it meant Kirishima practically melting under his hands.
Soft snores are heard from the redhead. Katsuki doesn’t want to let go or move, not yet.
Or maybe never. He’s perfectly content with this.
But alas, he has to do something about the sleeping boy. So, hesitantly removing his hand from the unfairly soft hair, he gently lays the other on his bed.
When a hand comes to softly grip at his arm, Katsuki almost jumps out of his damn skin.
“B’kugo’?” Kirishima mutters sleepily, staring at his with lidded eyes. It’s so damn cute it makes Katsuki's heart skip multiple beats at once. “C’n you stay?”
Katsuki huffs fondly, then covers it with a very obviously forced scowl. “This is my room, dumbass.”
Kirishima chuckles, eyes closing again. There’s a sleepy smile on his face, and suddenly Katsuki’s swarmed with the urge to kiss.
“Night Baku…” he whispers, and then within seconds he falls asleep.
He doesn’t look away, he can’t. Katsuki lays down on the bed slowly, aware of the space between them. He really wants to kiss him.
But he can’t. They’re friends, that’s it. Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t think of each other like how Katsuki thinks of Kirishima.
But he can watch.
He can watch from afar, and only hope.
For now though, none of that matters to him. Katsuki shuffles closer to the redhead, letting a soft smile to take over. He stares at Kirishima for a few seconds longer, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.