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There is something very wrong with Kirishima. Now, Denki doesn’t normally like to put ‘verys’ on things, especially not his sunshine incarnate best bud, but damn. There is something very wrong with him. It's Sunday morning at six am, both of them have just finished a slow patrol and stopped off at a twenty four hour coffee shop for something hot. Denki has been talking for fifteen minutes and Kirishima hasn’t responded to any of it.
“Yeah so anyways, last night I smeared peanut butter on my nips and Hitoshi invited his long dead grandpa over to lick it off with him.”
Kirishima doesn’t even blink, just sips his hot chai latte and stares out the window. “That’s great Denks.”
Denki’s eyes flare and he sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Kiri. Kirishima.” No reply. Rolling his eyes he leans forward and takes the cup from Kirishima’s hand. “Eijirou!”
Finally he blinks, looks down at his empty hand, then up at Denki. “Yes?”
“Dude. What’s wrong?”
Kirishima smiles, tries to smile, that's not a smile. “Nothing, things have been busy lately, you know?”
“Nope.” Denki says, sipping Kirishima's drink. “It’s actually been a really quiet couple of months. Crime rates are at an all time low my friend.”
“Right.” Kirishima says, wincing. “Sorry.”
Denki sighs, placing the cup on the table and leans on his folded arms. “I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to help me know how I can help you.”
“I’m fine.” Kirishima says. “I promise, just lost in thought.”
“See that’s how I know you aren’t okay. We,” he gestures between them with a grin, “don’t get lost in thought. We don’t have enough thoughts to do that.”
Kirishima laughs, “Fair enough. It’s just.” he shrugs, eyes skipping away from Denki’s face to fall somewhere towards the door of the cafe.
“Relationship problems? Did something happen with Kacchan?”
A tendon in Kirishima’s neck twitches and the bemused concern turns into full out concern in the space of the nanosecond it took for it to flex.
“Kirishima, did something happen with Bakugou?”
Kirishima lets out a long sigh. “Yeah. But it’s okay? Or it probably will be.”
“If it’s bothering you this much then maybe you should talk it out with someone.” Denki encourages. “We’ve all had spats with our partners.”
“Exactly.” Kirishima murmurs. “We’ll be okay.”
They part ways soon after that, and Denki tries to put the conversation out of his head. Except he’s put on patrol again with Kirishima a week later and everything goes from, huh that’s odd, to oh my fucking god this is terrible.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
There’s a bruise on Kirishima’s cheek. A nasty dark bruise that looks fresh and painful. Kirishima waves him away.
“Ran into a thug on the way here.”
It’s a lie. Denki knows it’s a lie. Because Kirishima’s hardening is so honed it works subconsciously to protect him against threats. It’s so unfair when it comes to water balloon fights or pranks. A common thug should not have been able to land a hit on him. No one should have been able to. Except.
There is one person. Only one person on this whole goddamn planet that Kirishima trusts enough that his Quirk will not activate. And that person is one Bakugou Katsuki.
“I swear to god if he hit him.” Denki seethes that night, standing in his kitchen talking to Sero on the phone.
“Dude, that is a huge accusation to make. This is Bakugou we’re talking about. He would never.”
Denki stabs at the fish he’s frying with his spatula. He’s eating dinner alone tonight, Hitoshi is on patrol until early. “Yeah, well. We also know that Kirishima’s Quirk should have stopped a blow and it didn’t. We’ve seen Kacchan throw stuff at him that he doesn’t protect himself against because he trusts him so much.”
Sero is quiet. “I really don’t like this. Bakugou might be angry but he loves Ei. This isn’t like him. I don’t think you should be making accusations like this Denks. It’s not fair to either of our friends.”
“I know. Fuck I know. But have you seen Kiri lately? Something is bad wrong between them. I have patrol with Kacchan at the end of month. I’ll talk to him.”
“Be careful, Denki.” Sero warns, “Bakugou is our friend too.”
“Not if he dared hit Kirishima.”
Maybe it’s fucked up of him to loose faith in Bakugou so quickly, but the bruise had shaken him to the core, and his stomach had iced over as Kirishima patrolled silently with him. No sound at all, just trudging by him in stale silence, eyes forward.
“Which I agree with,” Sero sighs, “But you don’t know he did Denki, and it’s going to be super hard to breach the subject. How do you go about that?”
Denki flips his fish out of the pan and onto a plate. “Oh I don’t know, maybe like, ‘oh hey Kacchan lovely day for patrol isn’t it? Also you didn’t happen to punch my best friend or something did you?’ Easy peasy.”
The sigh Sero lets out crackle across the line. “Whatever. I’ll be back in the country next week. Just, please don’t fuck this up.”
“Of course.” Denki says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be very gentle with poor Kacchan’s delicate feelings. You haven't been around to see just how off Kiri’s been. Maybe if you saw him you’d notice.”
Sero is quiet again. “I guess it’s kind of weird that he hasn’t really called lately. I’ve gotten a few texts but that’s about it.”
“Oh my god Hanta.” Denki groans. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”
“I thought guys have just been busy!”
“Do you not watch the news?!”
“Not for Japan!” Sero exclaims, “ I have been busy.”
Denki lets out a long suffering sigh, sticking a piece of fish into his mouth and chewing aggressively. “That feels like vital information for this case.”
“It’s a case now?”
“Hell yes it’s a case now. It’s been a case since last Saturday. I drank all of Kiri’s chai latte, all of it Sero. And he didn’t care at all . I have a list labeled, ‘my god Kiri is off’ cataloging all of his offness. It’s long enough to take up a whole two notes on my phone.”
“Christ. Okay. Well, do you think you could get him to send me a picture of his bruise?”
“No.” Denki mutters darkly. “I tried already, he refused to let me take a picture and he refused to go get it checked out. Which is weird in its own way.”
Sero hums. “Now you’re getting me worried. Fuck. Imma call him after this.”
Feeling triumphant is probably inappropriate at this moment, but really Denki doesn’t care. Everyone should be worried about Kirishima, especially his closest besties. Making sure Kirishima knows he has people on his side will help him feel comfortable enough to come to them for help.
“I think he’d appreciate that.” Denki says. The clock in the living room ticks onto midnight and he sighs. “Anyways. I’m going to let you go. Sorry for ranting like a mad man.”
“Nah, it’s all good man. Thanks for letting me know I guess. I’ll let you know what Kiri says.”
“Cool dude, thanks. Talk to you later.”
Before Denki crawls into bed that night, he shoots his own text to Kirishima. Just a quick goodnight and see you tomorrow. In the morning it still hasn’t been opened.
“Hey there Kacchan.” Denki calls, striding up to Bakugou who’s standing at the edge of the sidewalk observing the street in that terrifying way he does. “You clocked in yet?” Denki asks him to stand right by him pulling up the app to clock in on his phone.
“Of course you bastard.”
Welp, that's normal. Denki grins at him, typing in his information, waits for confirmation then slides his phone back into the protective pocket on the inside of his jacket.
“Right, mr. pro over here.”
Bakugou sends him an incredulous look, a small sneer twitching his mouth. “You’re a pro too.”
“I know. It’s kind of insane.” Denki punches Bakugou’s arm. He gets a glare but nothing else. Which. Normal. Denki feels frustration bubble in him.
“Come on, let's get this shit over with.”
No villain is stupid enough to dare approach a street where DynaMight is patrolling, and thus the streets are simply full of civilians. Bakugou marches straight spined through them, barely pausing when people call out his name, or when girls stop to squeal in delight as he strides past. Denki hates patrol with Bakugou. It’s always quiet and he’s often looked over even if he has been rated number four hottest male hero on the scene. It’s not that Bakugou won’t talk to Denki, he will, but only when they stop for breaks. 'It’s distracting', he told Denki one time. Which Kirishima laughed at because apparently Bakugou has no issue talking to him when DynaRiot patrol.
“So,” Denki hedges as they stop for a breather later that afternoon. “How's the ol’ engaged life going?”
“Fine.”
“Right. Right.” Denki nudges him in the ribs smirking, “Heard somewhere fiance sex is the best you can get.” Lies. He’s never heard that.
“That’s fucking stupid.” Bakugou scoffs, edging away from Denki.
Laughing, Denki holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Of course. Sex is the same, why would it change?”
There. A vein ticks in Bakugou’s temple, and his eyes narrow just slightly. They aren’t huge reactions, in fact they’re miniscule. But odd.
“Do you guys have a date for the wedding? Everyone is waiting with bated breath dude. And I’m sure Kiri is just bursting to let it slip.”
“No. We don’t.”
Denki laughs before frowning. “You guys have been engaged for a year. Kirishima told me you guys were talking about a winter wedding. Did you change your mind?”
“Does it matter?” Bakugou snaps.
“Well no, but I know Kirishima has been excited, and I was just wondering about your side of things.”
Bakugou scoffs, turning away from him. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Uh. It does? It’s your wedding man. That’s a big deal. Are you still feeling insecure about that one thing?”
Bakugou had admitted to Denki one evening after they had been drinking, Kirishima already gone up to bed, tired from nursing a tiny injury. Bakugou had watched him slump up the stairs with fond, quiet, concern. Then he sighed and leaned forward onto his knees, eyes caught on the muscle clock on the mantel, and admitted that he was worried people would see their wedding as nothing but a boost on the charts. And Denki being the emotionally mature beast he is, assured him that the opinions of media and civilians meant bullshit as long as Kirishima and Bakugou know why they’re getting married. He’d gotten a hug out of Bakugou that night.
“I don’t want to talk about that shit.” Bakugou growls, shoving off the wall and walking down the street. Denki sputters and hurries after him.
“Dude, what the fuck?” he grabs Bakugou’s shoulder. “This isn’t cool. Tell me what the hell is going on.”
Bakugou shakes his hand off. “It’s none of your goddamn business!”
Denki stares, mouth popping open in surprise. “Uh it kind of is, I’m Kirishima’s best man. I kinda need to be kept in the loop.”
Laughing in his face Bakugou walks away again , Denki clicks his tongue in annoyance. He fumbles his phone out of it’s pocket and does the insanely unprofessional thing of texting Sero. He trails silently after Bakugou keeping half an ear open for the notification sound. When he catches up to Bakugou he grabs his shoulder again, making him whirl on him.
“Are you hurting Kirishima?” he demands, stares the other man down, refuses to let go of his shoulder. Even sets sparks off against it.
“What I do with my fiance is my business. This habit of yours is fucking annoying. What, you fucking want him or something?”
Denki reels back, “ What the absolute fuck ?! No I don’t want him, I want him to be safe and right now I don’t feel like he is. I swear to god Katsuki I will kill you if you’ve laid a hand on him.”
Bakugou grins like a feral animal, eyes dark behind his mask. “Wow, some friend you are. Think I’d abuse Eijirou?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” Denki snaps. “My friend has been off, and then he shows up with a bruise ?”
“He’s a hero you moron!” Bakugou laughs, it’s a cruel thing. “You get hurt in this line of work.”
Denki rubs his forehead, “What is wrong with you? You should be fighting for your life right now!”
“I’m not scared of you.” Bakugou says simply.
“You don’t have to be, you should be pissed the hell off at me for even implying that you would lay a hand on Kirishima.”
“It’s not worth it. Now shut up about it, we have a job to do.” he walks away then, shaking Denki off for good. Gaping after him Denki turns on his heel and walks the other way. Anger is rippling through him, if Bakugou thinks he’s going to trail after him like a little puppy he’s very wrong. Fuck him.
Stepping into the shadow of an alley he pulls out his phone and dials Kirishima’s number. It goes to voicemail and Denki feels like screaming as he listens to Kirishima’s chirpy voice tell him he’s busy but will get back to the caller as soon as he can.
“Hey Kirishima,” Denki says after the beep. “I know you’re probably busy, but we need to talk about your fiance.” He bites out the title in disgust. “Please call me back.”
Denki grumbles to himself as he pulls up an alternate patrol route that will lead him around the city and back to the rendezvous point but won’t require him to walk with Bakugou.
“Chargebolt.”
Denki glances up, annoyance flaring through him at the civilian that stands in the mouth of the alley.
“Hey,” Denki says, pasting on a smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” The civilian comes closer. He’s an older guy, hair graying at the temples and a slight hunch to his back. His eyes are blown widebeind a pair of coke bottle glasses. “But I need to talk to you.”
“I’d love to talk to you,” Denki says, already stepping back. “But I’m busy right now.” is it unprofessional and dangerous? Hell yes. The amount of villains they fight because, ‘my favorite hero ignored me’ and other such bullshit is frankly ridiculous. But Denki doesn’t have the patience right now to deal with a meaningless conversation. He digs one of the cards for his agency out of his jacket. “Here, if you’re not in immediate danger you can go ahead and call my agency and request some time to talk to me. I’d love to have a conversation and I’m sorry to be walking off now.”
The civilian fumbles the card when Denki shoves it into his hand. “Wait-”
He doesn’t wait, he hurries away and turns left when he gets to the street.
Kirishima never returns his phone call. It’s not like Denki had expected him to call back immediately, hadn’t had too much time to talk anyways. There had been a robbery gone lethal towards the end of patrol. Denki had herded away bystanders while Bakugou blew the place to hell. The amount of paperwork that’s coming out of the incident is enough to put Bakugou even lower on his shit list. Honestly he didn’t even think that was possible.
The work day is over now though, and Denki is standing in the shower at the agency, Tetsutetsu in the stall next to him. He’s been staring at the wall contemplating how weird it would be to ask the other hero if he’s talked to Kirishima in a while. But before he can open his mouth to ask, Tetsutetsu breaks the silence.
“Hey man, you haven’t noticed anything off about Kirishima lately have you?”
Denki slams the water off, leaving a glob of suds in his hair he nearly slips in his haste to get out of the shower. Tetsu shrieks as he tosses aside the curtain to this stall.
“Thank fuck, tell me everything.”
Which is how they end up sitting with towels around their waists discussing Kirishima. Tetsu doesn’t really have much, he mentions the bruise, Kirishima’s odd affinity towards silence lately. Denki shares his own observations and his fears towards Bakugou. Tetsu’s cheeks puff up with a breath before he releases it in a slow exhale.
“I don’t know man.” Tetsu says, “It’s not my place to make assumptions, and hell I don’t want to. I mean, it’s Bakugou and Kirishima. They’re not like that.”
Denki nods, “Yeah I thought so too. But I can’t think of anything else. Bakugou is one of my best friends, but I can’t let that get in the way if he is hurting Kirishima.”
“Why would he though?” Tetsu asks, there’s a knot between his brows.
“I don’t know.” Denki says softly. It’s a question that’s been plaguing his mind since his conversation with Sero. There was nothing to indicate this odd change in behavior. Or maybe it’s been going on for awhile but Kirishima can’t hide it anymore.
“Urgh.” Tetsu groans. “How do we help?”
Danki shrugs, “Not sure. Kirishima hasn’t been the most open in our conversations recently. And until he confirms something it’s not like there’s much I can do. I confronted Bakugou today, fucker laughed in my face.”
Tetsu frowns, “So we just sit around and do nothing?”
“No, I refuse to do that. I’m going to ask Kirishima if he’d like to spend this weekend with me. You know, call over Sero and Mina just chill for a little. Maybe I’ll be able to get something out of him.”
Tetsu nods, “Well if he agrees let me know and I’ll stop by if that’s cool.”
“Course man.” Denki says. He stands, stretches and wanders over to his locker. He’s excited to get home tonight, Hitoshi isn’t working for the first time in weeks and they can actually spend some time together before bed. It’ll be a nice wind down after today.
It’s ten thirty, Denki is straddling Hitoshi, half naked, tongue down his throat when a knock at their front door makes them pause. Hitoshi looks over, the hand on Denki’s ass moving up to press between his shoulder blades.
“You gonna get that?”
Denki huffs a laugh, “Do you want me to? We were kind of in the middle of something.”
“Mm.” Hitoshi hums, pressing his mouth under Denki’s jaw. “Guess not.”
Digging his hands into Hitoshi’s hair Denki groans in delight, tossing his head back to put the full of his neck on display. Two knocks sound, these ones slightly louder. Hitoshi’s disapproval for the second interruption vibrates against Denki’s pulse. He pulls away glaring at the door and feels around the couch for his discarded shirt.
“Fine. Give me a sec. Bet it’s delivery with the wrong address.” Denki stomps to the door and tosses it open. Kirishima is leaning against the wall, face a mess of purple and red, tears trailing over his swollen cheeks and split lips. “Jesus Christ.” Denki breaths. He reaches for his friend, clings to him when Kirishima grips his arms, the silent drip of tears becoming a loud torrent.
“I-I need you to call an a-ambulance.” Kirishima gasps. Denki nods gently, leading him into his living room. Hitoshi gets to his feet hurrying towards them.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
Denki sends his boyfriend a look before hushing Kirishima who’s breath has started to come faster. “You’re okay, Kiri. I’ve got you.” He leads Kirishima to the couch helping him sit down before he turns to Hitoshi. “I need you to get me the fist aid kit.”
Brushing back Kirishima’s loose hair he examines the wounds on his face closer. There are burn marks pebbling with sera mixed into the lacerations. “Bastard. God Kirishima.”
“Please, Denks,” Kirishima says. His lips can barely move. “Ambulance.”
“Right,” Denki fumbles for his phone, “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Hitoshi is back, sitting on the couch and laying the first aid kit between his leg and Kirishima. He lays it open gently asking Kirishima to look at him.
“Not hurt anywhere else. The ambulance, for Katsuki.”
Denki pauses, jaw tightening. “Why.”
“I-I hurt him. Really bad, I don’t.” Kirishima chokes, hands starting to stake in Denki’s grip. “Please get him help.”
Hitoshi hands Denki the first aid kit. “I’ll go check on him.” he says quietly.
Denki turns to Kirishima, digging a little pack of alcohol wipes out of the bottom of the box. He wipes away blood and sera. Kirishima barely flinches, eyes lost over Denki’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Kirishima sniffs, “He hit me.”
“I know.” Denki mutters. “Fuck I know.” he winces up at his friend. “A lot right?’
“Yeah.” Kirishima sobs. “And I couldn’t deal with it anymore, so I fought back.”
Denki sets aside the used wipe and gathers Kirishima into a hug. He stares angrily at the kitchen bar as his friend sobs into his shoulder.
“What do you need me to do?” Denki asks when the sobs taper off into quiet sniffles.
“It’s not him.” Kirishima says hoarsely. “It can’t be. Katsuki would never hurt me.”
Denki’s back teeth hurt from how hard he’s biting them. “Kiri…”
“I’m not in denial. It has to be a Quirk or something.”
“Okay,” Denki says, pressing his eyes closed for a few seconds. “We’ll look into it, but for now can you stay with me?”
Kirishima nods, slumping against Denki, an awful sort of defeat lining his shoulders.
Cleaning and bandaging Kirishima’s face does little to appease the fury that’s boiling in Denki like something rotten. Kirishima is silent, twisting the engagement ring on his finger. Denki had glanced down when he felt the subtle movements and bile had risen in his throat at the sight of the silver band.
He puts Kirishima up in the tiny spare bedroom that’s more of a closet, then sits on the couch, knee bouncing, waiting for Hitoshi to get back. It’s nearing midnight by the time his boyfriend throws their door open.
“Well?”
Hitoshi tosses his keys onto the coffee table. “Kirishima wasn’t exaggerating. Beat to hell, couldn’t move when I got there. But he’s going to be fine.”
“He hit him, Hitoshi.” Denki says shaking, fists shaking at his sides.
“I know.” Hitoshi says gently. He sits down, coaxing Denki to sit next to him. “It sucks, but we can take some comfort in the fact that Kirishima finally fought back.”
“What? That doesn’t make me feel better in the slightest! He’s obviously devastated over it.”
“Babe,” Hitoshi says lowly, “Bakugou had hit him before and he didn’t do anything about it. Fighting back means that he wasn’t willing to be bullied, or that he sees something we don’t.”
Denki leans heavily against Hitoshi’s side. “He said something about Bakugou not being the same or something.”
“Exactly.” Digging awkwardly into his pocket Hitoshi pulls out his phone. “Me and Yuga had been tracking this villain a few months back, he’d been wreaking havoc, swapping people and Quirks.” he turns his phone around to show Denki the report. “Thing is, we lost track of him a month ago. Which is bad, he can be anyone.”
“Including Bakugou, oh my god.”
Hitoshi nods grimly, “It’s an explanation for the sudden and bizarre change. Thing is, we have no idea what he looks like.” he swipes through a series of pictures, each one of different random people. “I have to admit it's incredible how quickly the Quirk would jump from person to person. Yuga found out that the original host has to touch someone to transfer the Quirk, but it doesn’t have to be a meaningful touch.”
“Hitoshi, please tell me this isn’t you grasping at straws. I need this to be a plausible theory, Kirishima needs this to be a plausible theory.” Denki begs.
“I really can’t make any promises Denki, but I think we should get in touch with Yuga tomorrow to see what we can find. There was just something about Bakugou that reminded me of the other victims.”
Denki rubs his face, “Okay, okay. I hope you’re right, and If you aren't, I'm bringing Bakugou’s career to its knees.”
“And I’ll help you.” Hitoshi says a grim little smile ticking up his lips. “So will a shit ton of people.”
“I told Kirishima he could stay here with us for a while,” Denki says. He suddenly feels very tired. “That's cool. Probably should have asked before I banished him to the guest closet but,” Denki shrugs.
Hitoshi laughs before dragging himself off the couch, bringing Denki with him. “Yeah, that’s fine. Come on, not much we can do right now. Bakugou is at Central for the night.”
“He’s not a threat to anyone else right? I mean he didn’t seem very inclined to hurt me.”
Hitoshi shakes his head, “No. I have a few theories about why Kirishim is being abused while everyone else is being treated more or less the same, but our villain is the only person who can give us those answers.”
If someone had told highschool aged Denki that Aoyama would become a virtually unknown underground hero, he would have laughed in their face. Except that’s exactly what happened. Aoyama and Hitoshi are as close to partners as underground heroes can get and to the media and pro scene he doesn’t exist, to class A he’s often a hot topic at get togethers.
He gets up and hugs Kirishima when they find him in the cafe they had planned to meet at to set a game plan in motion.
“I’m sorry, darling.” Aoyama tells Kirishima, face tucked into his shoulder. “This shouldn’t be happening to you. I swear I’m going to help if I can.”
Kirishima nods, squeezing Aoyama before letting go and wiping at his eyes. “Thanks.I appreciate it.”
Aoyama lays out the case he’d put together over the last few months, maps, charts, recorning, the occasional picture. He has witnesses and set patterns recorded detailing the movements of the Quirk.
“Basically we’re tracking a Quirk instead of a perpetrator.” Aoyama says. “Which is tough, but honestly something like this happening is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”
Kirishima, who had been listening intently to the conversation, looking sad with his swollen face nods. “They’re really good at impersonating their victims. They were probably stalking Katsuki for a long time before they made their move. It’s uh,” he looks down, “It’s scary, they know a lot not just about Katsuki but me and our relationship.”
Aoyama nods, “Yes exactly. They’re so good in fact that I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a secondary Quirk.”
“We ruled that out pretty quick though.” Hitoshi says. “Turns out they’re just a hardcore creep.”
“Yeah but, how did they get close enough to learn that much information without their victims noticing?”
Aoyama takes a sip of his tall sugary coffee. “A mix of very illegal things. As horrifying as this is going to be, I suggest you search your home for hidden cameras. I know someone who can help you find them, if we aren’t successful ourselves.”
Kirishima takes a shuddering breath, falling forward to rest his forehead in his palm. “Fuck.”
It’s hardly enough to properly encapsulate the sheer horror the prospect of camera’s in Kirishima’s home is. Habits take a long time to learn, to notice even, the amount of everything the villain would have needed to see is stomach turning.
“What’s the time frame on those?” Denki asks, feeling slightly sick when Aoyama’s eyes twitch.
“Best case scenario, six months,” his gaze flicks up to Kirishima, “Worst case, a year or more.”
A dull dread falls over the table. Six months of invaded privacy is bad enough, but longer than that. Denki feels numb, he turns to stare out the window at the people passing by, going about their days in a carefree way he wished he could.
“We should start there.” Hitoshi says breaking their silence. “It’ll answer a lot of questions, the main one being if this is actually the work of this villain.” he looks conflicted now. Which Denki thinks he understands. On one hand finding the camera’s would prove that Bakugou has not been acting on his own violation, but on the other hand that means that Kirishima and Bakugou have not had their home or lives to themselves. Right now Denki is almost shaken enough to want Bakugou to just be a douchebag all on his own.
“Wouldn’t they have taken the camera’s down? If they’ve been living as Katsuki then why still have the cameras?”
Aoyama folds his dainty well manicured hands together on top of his map. “There is a possibility, but I think we might have a chance of finding a few remaining cameras, especially in your bedroom.”
They find not one, not two, not even three, but almost fifteen cameras hidden in the Bakugou-Kirishima residence. Kirishima stares in pale silence as Aoyama pulls a microscopic camera from a corner in the room that stares directly at the bed. He turns and leaves, nearly tripping in his haste to get out of the bedroom and into the semi safety of the living room. Denki follows him, stands in the doorway and watches him shake on his couch.
“Kiri-”
“No. Fuck. They watched us. That’s not for anyone else.” Kirishima says through clenched teeth. He wraps his arms tightly around his body, shielding himself from an invasion that already happened. “And,” he chokes, “There were nights he’d want to, and I let him. I thought he was Katsuki.”
“Kirishima, it’s not your fault.”
“How could I not recognize that it wasn’t Katsuki?!” Kirishima snaps, ignoring Denki and digging his hands into his hair.
“It’s not your fault.” Denki says again, coming to kneel on the soft well kept carpet in front of the couch.
“I know Katsuki better than I know myself.” Kirishima says deadly calm. “I know everything about him down to the smallest scars. I let an imposter fuck me Denki.”
Denki feels like shaking his friend, “An imposter who had spent an indecent amount of time learning everything they could about both of you. There was nothing you could have done about this.”
“Denks,” Kirishima says wetly, “I should have known .”
“You did. You knew that night you came to me, and I think you knew before then too. But there was a lot of scary shit happening to you. I don’t know what I would think if Hitoshi hit me one day for no reason.” Bolstering up Kirishima’s chin he smiles softly at him, “Actually I probably would have immediately thought someone was possessing him.”
“It wasn’t immediate.” Kirishima mumbles. “Didn’t really think too much that first night after. Was shocked.”
“Fair.” Denki says. Hitoshi is peering out the bedroom, he raises an eyebrow at Denki before miming crying and points at Kirishima. Denki scowls at him. “You okay to keep going?”
Kirishima sniffs once before straightening, “Yeah. I want Katsuki back.”
“Great!”Denki cheers.
Aoyama does one last check to the rest of the house before they leave. He finds remnants from where a few of the cameras had been before they were pulled roughly from the wall leaving tiny imperfections, and a single one tucked into the corner of the shower that he had missed on his once over the first time. That one was almost enough to send Kirishima spiraling again. They leave the house shortly after that. Aoyama proposes that the best way to find the villain is to wait for the villian when Denki asks what they do now that they know Bakugou is not Bakugou.
“He’s still posing as number three hero DynaMight,” Aoyama says, “And by extent Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou’s fiance. Bakugou was probably chosen for many reasons but his fame is definitely a factor. I don’t see him doing anything to sabotaje that.”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi scoffs, “Because beating your fiance is definitely the perfect way to ensure your fame.”
Aoyama hums, “I’m sure the perp was counting on the fact that Kirishima wouldn’t go to any big media about it.”
“Well despite how much he watched me and Katsuki interact he missed a few things. I don’t think he was expecting me to hit back.” Kirishima muses.
“Fuck yeah!” Denki cheers.
“Did more than hit him.” Hitoshi mutters. “You nearly killed him.”
Denki smacks his boyfriend’s arm, “God, you’re so insensitive sometimes!”
“I am stating facts! Sorry Kirishima.”
Kirishima waves him away. In silent protest to Hitoshi’s lack of tact he leaves him behind with Aoyama and joins Kirishima a few feet ahead, looping their arms together he starts a conversation about something he’d seen on social media that morning.
In the usual fashion lately, Bakugou finds them before they find him. Denki is literally so tired of these bastards coming out of nowhere and stealing his thunder. He had been ready to run into Kirishima’s house the minute their wire had been tripped and fry the hell out of Bakugou. But no. Because the universe hates him. Instead of a cool showdown, Bakugou finds them on the street the evening they go out for drinks.
It’s a busy night on the street. Drunk people weaving in and out of the night crowd and music pulsing up the streets heavy with bass. This is the kind of thing that Denki loves, he’s dressed for a night out, meaning he pulled out his tightest jeans and sluttiest crop top he owns, and painted his face with sparkling makeup. He stands out, especially in comparison with Kirishima who is dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, hair tucked into a cap and sunglasses balanced on his nose. That might have been the second mistake they made, the first being the fact that Denki didn’t insist someone else come with them.
Bakugou descends upon them and several things happen at once.
Kirishima’s t-shirt rips as his Quirk ripples up his arms and back, warding off Bakugou before he can get closer. Bakugou, who Denki hasn’t seen since patrol that night, sneers. His mouth is gap toothed, and his skin is purpled to the extent that it rivals Mineta’s head.
Denki reaches for Kirishima too, electricity crackling through his hair as he steps between them. The air is thick with tension, the smell of heating nitro and static heady around them. Bakugou is stronger than Denki, if he wants to get to Kirishima it’s not going to be that hard.
“Back off man.” Denki says. They hadn’t planned on what to do if they were caught alone, because they weren’t supposed to be alone, and they were supposed to have time.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, smoothing a thumb over his jaw, eyes steely as he watches Kirishima. “I would like to speak with my fiance if that isn’t too much to ask for.”
“Kinda is, dude. Get back.”
He does the opposite. Aiming a hot palm at Denki he lets a large explosion rip. Kirishima yanks him back and down, taking the blast against his hardened face. Civilians scatter like insects confused by the blasts.
“You’re going to hurt someone!” Kirishima shouts at Bakugou. “If you want to fight me then fine, but not here where there are innocent people who don’t deserve to get caught up in your mess!”
“I don’t want to fight you.” Bakugou huffs, a deranged sort of smile curling the corners of his mouth. “You don’t mean enough for me to fight you. I’m so tired of you existing.”
Denki chokes on a laugh. A very inappropriate laugh, but it’s such a cliche villain thing to say that it’s funny to him. And that’s kind of a motive?
“Besides,” Bakugou goes on, gesturing to the mess Kirishima made of his face, “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, all that ja-”
And then in a weird sense of deja vu, and a reminder that he never answered the phone at the agency, the civilian from all those days ago comes charging through the crowd and tackles Bakugou.
It’s bizarre to watch, the old man taking down someone as big and solid as Bakugou in one tackle. He gets Bakugou’s wrists in his hands and pins them above his head, for an impressive second and a half before Bakugou twists and bucks the guy off of him. Denki is already moving though, wrapping a hand around Bakugou’s neck and releasing a single heavy shock. It brings the villain to his knees, Denki curses his lack of preparedness and bends to unlace his shoes to use the laces as makeshift handcuffs before calling in back up.
The civilian is back again, nose bleeding and glasses missing. Kirishima grabs him by the shoulder.
“Stay back, please. We have the situation handled.”
“It’s me.” The civilian says, gripping at Kirishima’s wrist. “It’s me, Eijirou. Let me go.”
Kirishima blinks at him, hand going slack just enough for him to slip out of Kirishima’s grasp. Marching towards Bakugou, the civilian (Bakugou?) grabs him by the collar.
“Put me back in my body you son of a bitch.”
Bakugou lulls his head back to stare at the civilian, Denki’s shock still working on him. “Didn’t think you’d make it back here.”
“Yeah? Thought you had this all worked out?” Bakugou’s head is wretched back as the civilian (Bakugou?!) “Give. Me. Back. My body. ”
“You have to.” The villain slurs.
“Fuck that, I know you have to will yourself out of me. Come on.”
Back up has arrived, Denki gives them all a quick run down, gets Quirk repressors on the villain and loads him into the back of a villain transport. He’s vaguely aware of the camera’s that are clicking in the background, it’s gonna be hell to pay in the morning when the stories about pro hero DynaMight being arrested as a villain hits the media.
Kirishima is standing off to the side, looking sick, gaze flicking towards the civilian who’s staring right back.
“You need to answer your goddamn phone, Pikachu.” the civilian snarls. “Aren’t you the one always getting onto me about fucking beside manner?”
“You’re really Katsuki?” Kirishima asks, his arms have come up to cover himself protectively.
The glare that had Denki pinned softens in the face of Kirishima’s question. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” his voice breaks and Kirishima shakes his head looking down.
“S’not your fault.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry for everything.” Bakugou says. He moves forward and Denki holds his breath when Bakugou opens tentative and unfamiliar arms. Kirishima hesitates before walking into them.
Denki turns away when both of their shoulders start to shake.
In the end it takes a lot to get the shitty villain to actually give Bakugou back his body. He finally does one afternoon after Bakugou had gone into the prison and sat with him. He’d asked straight up why he treated Kirishima the way he had. Short answer, he thought that DynaMight didn’t need someone like Kirishima holding him back, gay people are gross and Kirishim had obviously made Bakugou gay. Once his body was back Bakugou nearly beat the villain to death.
The guards eventually drug Bakugou kicking and screaming out of the cell, blood dripping off his fists, leaving behind shattered coke bottle glasses.
Mina had called Denki one night asking how they couldn’t see that it wasn’t actually Bakugou. He doesn’t know, it’s going to be a little odd around their agencies for a while. Guilt and hesitancy heavy between them.
“How are you doing?” Denki asks on their Sunday morning sipping his Macchiato. Kirishima is across from him, he looks very tired, but there are no bruises on his face and his hair is brushed silky, the color returned to his cheeks. His chai latte is nearly gone.
“Okay. It’s uh. Weird. I guess.” Kirishima says. “Katsuki feels bad, he shouldn’t, but he does.”
“I bet.” Denki hums. “I feel a little bad myself, thought he was abusing you. What kind of friend am I?”
Kirishima laughs softly, “A good one, Denks. You were looking out for me.”
“Yeah, but in a Quirk filled world I didn’t even consider some kind of outside manipulation until you said something.”
Shrugging Kirishima looks out the window, “Maybe. But he was good at his job. We’re thinking about moving.”
Denki winces, “Messed up a lot didn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Kirishima mumbles, “Uh, I suggested couples therapy for us too. I know it wasn’t Katsuki who was hitting me, or forcing me to do stuff, but it was his body. I flinch a lot around him now, have trouble talking, sex, ha!” he looks miserable, “Sex is non existant now.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Denki says softly. “Is there anything good though?”
Kirishima smiles, perking up, his hands unclenching. “Yeah. I have my Katsuki back, and he’s mad about it, so fucking mad, that’s liberating for me. He’s careful about things, sometimes I wish we could be normal again, but we can’t and he makes that feel okay.”
“It’s not too soon to ask if I’m still in line for best man is it?”
Laughing, Kirishima touches his ring absently, “Of course you are.”
“Fuck yeah.”