Chapter Text
Objectively speaking, Kaminari Denki is attractive. Bakugou Katsuki knew this. He’s not blind and he is especially not stupid.
But knowing Kaminari is a) hot, and b) doing something about it, were two very different things.
For years—since their first days as heroes in training through their first few years debuting as pros—this was a connection Bakugou didn’t make until their friends started joking around after Kaminari’s latest breakup. But sometimes, all it takes is a little push to see someone in a whole new light.
They were all at Ashido Mina’s when the idiots, who sadly had long known that his snarls had no bite, decided they would pick on him to help lighten Kaminari’s sour mood.
Sero Hanta, the troublemaker everyone least suspects, got the ball rolling with a definitive diagnosis of Kaminari’s problem.
“Denks,” he began gravely, while the self-named Bakusquad each had their turn sharing their sympathy with their electric friend. “I think I know what the problem is.”
Bakugou snorted. Sero was stoned at least half the time he wasn’t on duty so this bud-borne explanation was either going to be totally off the mark or surprisingly insightful.
(Months later, Bakugou will think back on this moment and wonder if this was probably what sparked his downfall.) Sero gave him a sharp look before his hooded eyes sparkled in mischief.
“I think I know what the problem is,” he repeated, louder now so the whole group turned to him. “And I have a solution.”
Kaminari, for his part, was recovering quickly thanks to his friends’ affectionate support, well everyone except Bakugou, who merely punched him in the arm. Still, he looked to Sero with hope, clutching his third—fourth?—ginger lime drop of the evening.
Who was Bakugou to judge? He was on his third gin and tonic and he was feeling a little loose himself.
With the room at his attention, Sero made his pronouncement. “You, Kaminari Denki, are a hopeless romantic who will give anyone with a sharp jaw and halfway decent pick-up line a shot. Case in point: Shishikura.”
Kaminari groaned. “Hanta, are you saying I have no standards? Ow that hurts.”
“Oh you have standards Denks. They’re just beneath you.”
Holy shit, Tapeface might be on the insightful end of the spectrum tonight.
Bakugou couldn’t disagree with this assessment: for how pretty, vivacious, and magnetic Kaminari was, he picked people he dated like he had low self-esteem and had no positive relationship models in life. Hell, plainer-looking people like Sero managed to date J-pop stars for godssakes (Ashido kept explaining how Sero's vibe just totally did it for certain people, whatever that meant).
“Ugh, fine, so what should I dooooo?” Kaminari whined dramatically.
“Get better standards. Think people like…” Sero traveled his gaze across the room before landing squarely at Bakugou. “... people like Blasty over here.”
“Bakugou?!” Kaminari squawked incredulously at the same time Bakugou yelled “Whaddaya mean, people like me, Soy Sauce?!”
Sero continued unfazed. “What I mean is, look at our fine friend—yes friend ” Bakugou growled anyway, “Bakugou Katsuki.”
“What about me?” Bakugou raised his chin threateningly.
“He’s supremely good-looking, incredibly successful, an amazing cook, takes no shit, cooks and cleans even better than your mom can, takes care of everyone even if he pretends not to, and I hear, is a menace in the sheets. Oh no wait, he was my roommate for a year, 100% I can confirm the man is a sex god or a minor deity at least.”
Well shit, if Sero is going to sing his praises like this maybe he’ll let him keep speaking. But this wasn’t about him.
“Your standards should be at that level and not the losers you’ve been introducing us to.”
“But I thought you all liked my boyfriends!” Kaminari wailed.
“Aw honey, we like you. ” Ashido corrected him sympathetically.
Kaminari looked at all of them in turn, shoulders hunched in dejection. “Guys like that never go for me Hanta!” He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I’m too… me.”
“You never know until you try!” Ashido countered.
“Exactly, Denks!” Kirishima jumped in, only too eager to boost his friend.
What Kirishima said next changed everything. Bakugou will never really know if it was a joke or he was suggesting it for real, but the next words that came out of his mouth were: “Why don’t you try Bakubro here on for size?”
Just like how you did? A bitter voice he thought he’d buried rose up from the depths of his subconscious.
It felt like time stood still while Bakugou considered this suggestion. He was not one to get involved in their frivolous games and romantic intrigues (even if he usually stuck around to clean up the aftermath) but that night?
That night, he was full of food, drink, and good vibes and he was feeling a little indulgent. So he said “fuck it” and let it happen, much to the delight of the squad.
Bakugou put on his signature shit-eating grin, eyes gleaming wickedly. “Well whaddaya say Pikachu? Wanna test drive what a quality man feels like so you’ll know it when you see it?”
It only took Kaminari two seconds to register the shift because he immediately grinned that mischievous grin that had gotten too many hearts to fall too fast and jumped unceremoniously onto Bakugou’s lap on the couch.
“Or when my ass lands on it!” He quipped, making the entire room laugh and seal it for the joke that it was.
Whatever. Bakugou could play too. He shifted back a bit to accommodate the new weight and carelessly wrapped a loose arm around Kaminari’s waist. “Ya comfy, Dunce?”
He felt Kaminari freeze, but again, only just a split second before he adjusted to the evolving conditions of their little game. He nodded bobblehead while he ground his ass onto Bakugou’s lap, “Yessss Kacchan, so comfy. Note to self: quality men make great seats!”
There were a few inches of space between his ass and Bakugou’s dick, which was a relief because Bakugou was suddenly getting a little hard. Tch. It was probably because he’s drunk.
Kaminari stayed on his lap for the rest of the game the idiots were playing while Bakugou tried not to think about why having Kaminari on his lap didn’t feel wrong or uncomfortable at all.
Bakugou wasn’t playing but Kaminari was, and at the end of the game the other blonde credited him with the reversal of his fortunes, coming in from behind to sweep the board.
Afterwards, they all got up to stretch and refresh their drinks. Kaminari didn’t get back on his lap (disappointing? He kinda made for a nice lap blanket) but sat next to him for the rest of the night. Bakugou supposed that was fine and even tolerated it.
But.
If he was being honest, there was something reassuring about having the other man’s warmth next to him: the subtle nudges, the accidental brushes of knees and elbows when he laughed or gesticulated with his whole body.
Whatever. Bakugou was just gonna enjoy it while it lasted.