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Eijirou Kirishima’s team had made it to regionals after the past 3 years of hard work! It was fitting too, as this was Eijirou’s last year on the Mustafa High School Swim Club.
He’d worked his ass off to qualify for the team, so when he found out his butterfly stroke time had been placed for regionals? Hell, he couldn’t contain his energy!
If he did well in regionals, he could move on to nationals, get scouted, and get on a university’s swim team. That was his goal. Maybe try for the All-Japan Invitational and make it on the Olympic team one day…
He was getting ahead of himself. His race was in half an hour. He was cold with sweat.
Maybe he would flunk his race or false start or forget how to swim and look utterly stupid and then have to put all his efforts into his calculus class with the lost prospect of pro swimming.
Fuck, he hated calculus! Swimming was an escape from that crap!
Kaminari’s clap on the back brought Kirishima back to reality. He had very small hands for such a slender dude. Or maybe Kirishima just had a broad back.
“Eiji!” Kirishima cringed at the nickname. Only his grandmother and Kaminari called him that.
And… well…
“There ya are! Hey man, sorry I tried to get here as fast as I could but traffic was so slow. Did you race already?” Kaminari had an eager smile, and Kirishima returned the expression, grateful for his friend’s presence. Kaminari was an awful driver, so the prospect that he came out to watch Kirishima couldn’t help but bring a smile to his face.
Kaminari had no interest in swimming, it was as if he was electricity, completely avoidant of the water. But he was Kirishima’s closest friend, and always made an effort to drive out to see his races. He knew it meant a lot to Kirishima.
Kirishima scooted over on his bench, giving room to Kaminari to take a seat. “Nah dude, I’m on in thirty.” He cracked his knuckles, a sudden unease washing over him. In thirty minutes, the course of his swimming career would be decided. This was his last year to get scouted and prove himself!
Kaminari waved his hand in his friend’s face, “Get that worried mug off your face! You’ll do great! Butterfly stroke’s your strong suit, and you would’ve been here last year if not for your nerves!”
That last comment didn’t help alleviate Kirishima’s anxiety. He was undoubtedly a great swimmer: hard working, strong physique, good feel for the water, but it was his mind that always got the better of him, causing him to freeze up at the start of a race. Like a damn rock!
He needed to get over this if he wanted to go pro. He needed a walk to clear his mind. He didn’t even know why he was sitting on the benches instead of up on the stands with the rest of his swim club.
Maybe he should rejoin the group…
He got up and led Kaminari up the stands to where Mustafa Swim Team was idly sitting on their phones.
“Kirishima! I was looking all over for you! Your race is in 25 minutes!” Mina Ashido rose from her seat to chastise Kirishima. The girl’s races were happening in a few hours. She was using the adjacent pool facility to get prepped for her race, and had decided to check out the boy’s team.
She walked over to Kirishima, and then sighed when she saw Kaminari. “Kirishima doesn’t need distractions, Kaminari! Please don’t tell me you fed him any chips or soda!”
Kaminari waved his hands innocently with a look of offense on his face, “Jeez, I just got here!”
Ashido turned on Kirishima, “Where were you?” She crossed her arms and stuck out her hips.
“Benches at the front.” Kirishima scratched his neck– nervous habit.
Ashdio shook her head, “Probably worrying your ass off as per usual! Don’t forget that regionals two years ago you flaked!” She punched Kirishima’s shoulder sternly. Kirishima knew that Ashido believed in him and two years ago he had let her down… (and broke up with her, but he didn’t like to touch on that too much).
How could he ever forget? He qualified for regionals that year and left the pool 10 minutes before his race. Just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
But Kirishima had to make it through the race this year! He could do it! Swimming legend Crimson Riot was his inspiration, and with this being his last year on the team, he was going to conquer this race!
“You put in so much work, Kirishima, don’t let it go to waste!”
“I’ll try, Ashido.”
He plopped down on the seat next to Mashirao Ojiro, who hadn’t qualified for regionals, but was here to support the team.
“Hey ‘Shima! You’re gonna do great this year, don’t worry! And hey, at least you get a shot of competing. Go out there for all of us, okay?”
Kirishima nodded his head. Kaminari took the seat on his other side.
Kaminari was never good at comforting. His strongest suit was distraction. “Eiji, you know you could’ve went for any sport with your height and muscle. Didn’t hafta put all your eggs in one basket with swimming.”
Kirishima knew that some people would never understand his obsession with swimming. There was only one person who ever truly matched his intensity, who pushed his limits, who made him better day by day…
“Hey, who’s that punk chick over there?” Kaminari, with all his unsubtleness, pointed to the girl in question on the opposite side of the pool. She had cropped, dark purple hair and was sitting next to some blond dude.
A very… toned blond dude. With… red eyes? And no…
It couldn’t be.
Eijirou Kirishima wanted to burst out in hysteric laughter at the timing. At the sheer coincidence, it was as if he had thought the man into existence.
No, he was hallucinating. Going crazy out of desperation and the close timing of his upcoming race. He always felt weird when a race was about to start. Always felt his presence…
“Don’t know. Why? You know her?”
“I’d like to!” Kaminari stuck his tongue out playfully. He had got it pierced not too long ago, and the healing process was all but sexy, disappointing Kaminari entirely.
The blond guy beside the girl had spikey hair… Was that really red eyes he could make out? Or just his mind playing games with him? Kirishima squinted for a closer look, but the man had his eyes on the race happening, laser-focused, almost like he was taking mental notes on everyone. That reminded him of a certain someone, but it couldn’t be.
“Kami, does that blond guy look–”
“That’s the Aldera Swim Team manager, Jiro.” Fuyumi interrupted, answering Kaminari’s question that wasn’t as much of a whisper as he thought it was. “Aldera is the team my brother Shoto swims on.”
Fuyumi Todoroki was a teacher that coached the Mustafa Swim Club, as she was an alum of the club, having graduated from Mustafa High School a few years back. Her younger brother Shoto attended the boarding school at Aldera. It was a prestigious, all-boys institute centered on swimming among other sports. Kirishima had considered it once, except for the fact that Mustafu High was situated literally across from his house. For someone that woke up ten minutes before class was about to start, having a high school like Mustafu was a godsend.
“Jiro… gotta remember that name!” Kaminari laughed, which earned him a smack on the shoulder from Kirishima. “Ow, what the hell!”
“That blond guy…” Kirishima couldn’t bring himself to believe it… there was no way…
“Ugh, that’s probably her hunky boyfriend, I know, but you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take!”
Kaminari continued talking to himself as Kirishima tried to think about his race strategy.
But blonde hair and arms resting on shoulders and shared secrets and held hands flashed through his mind as tears welled up inside him.
Promises of always and I miss you and I’ll call you.
Lost motivation, lost touch, lost himself, Kirishima missed the spark in his life.
He missed the competition, the reason, the thrill, the laughter, the teasing, it was all a drug that he had become unknowingly addicted to, and the sudden withdrawal was challenging to say the least.
The late night walks to the vending machine, the early morning swim practices, the movie nights— most would say that Eijirou Kirishima had an idyllic childhood had it not been for the millions of things left unsaid between him and his best friend.
Kirishima felt a familiar pit open up inside him. He wanted to walk into the pit and accept the loss and hurt and wallow and cry in it. He wanted to run and see if that was really who he thought it was or just a demon tormenting him because they knew how much this regional tournament meant.
Regionals was the make-or-break for Kirishima’s upcoming swimming career! If he couldn’t prove himself here, how was he ever supposed to compete on the national team? This was his last shot to show university scouts!
Kirishima was not going to walk into the pit. He had a race to win. He steeled his will, he clenched his fists, and stood up from his spot.
It was his turn to race. He was suited up in black swimpants that had a singular red streak running along them, and headed over to the pedestals after signing in.
Lane 4. He jolted a bit as he looked over to see that the blond guy from Aldera was swimming next to him, in Lane 5. It had to be a demon, because there was no freaking way. This was his brain toying with him before this race!
Through the quick glance he’d sneaked, he saw that this had to be Katsuki, his skin pulled tautly against a sharp jawline, his build slender but packed with muscle, his face filled with the same passion he always had toward the water.
There was no doubt, but Kirishima could pretend there was for the sake of his sanity.
Two questions stood at the front of Kirishima’s mind though: Why was Katsuki back from Germany, and when did he get back?
People were slowly signing up, leaving Kirishima stuck with the option of taking a risk and greeting Katsuki Bakugou, or dealing with this awkward tension building up inside him.
He ultimately decided this was a dopplerganger, because if Katsuki was back in Japan, why hadn’t he told Kirishima? As far as Kirishima knew, he’d been Katsuki’s childhood best friend, and the two hadn’t split on bad terms. It was just the distance that was unbearable for Kirishima.
Kirishima shook his head. He needed to keep his mind clear for this race. Needed to focus on swimming. The man beside him was a weird double thrown in Kirishima’s way to make him mess up for this big race.
Of course he’d be hallucinating the man he’d had a desperate crush on right when the moment mattered!
It was all in his head, and Kirishima repeated that mantra over and over again as he snapped his goggles behind his head and dove into the water when the buzzer went off. The race was at the forefront of his mind.
The first stroke in the water told him all he needed to know, though.
Lane 5 was Katsuki Bakugou without a single doubt. Kirishima couldn’t even lie to his own mind.
The vigor, the explosive power, the precise speed was all innately Bakugou that Kirishima felt like a drunk man hyperfixated on the water as he thrashed harder in the water to match pace. To then surpass the set pace, fall behind again, and then swing his arms more vigorously to be beside Bakugou again.
It was Kirishima’s favourite game of catch-up. He forgot he was even swimming, he just had to be with Bakugou again.
It felt as if it were just Eijirou and Katsuki in this whole pool, and they were thirteen again, because they always had been thirteen and they always would be thirteen.
And all that would ever matter is what Katsuki Bakugou’s favourite ice cream flavour was (Rocky Road… ironic), and what time his mom needed him home by (he was always allowed to stay out later if he was with Katsuki).
And Eijirou was swimming because swimming was fun, and he got to do it with his best friend, and what was more to life than enjoying the little things with your favourite person?
What was the meaning of competition if the person who pushes you to be better is lost?
Why was thirteen year-old Eijirou sulking on the steps of the swimming pool when Katsuki told him he was going abroad to a random German powerhouse swim school?
Why did the pool water and his tears mingle so much? Why did his goggles always fill with water no matter how tight he fastened them?
All that and so much more was built up inside thirteen year-old Eijirou and eighteen year-old Eijirou let everything out with each arm stroke, each beat of his leg, each breath that he took as he raced beside Katsuki Bakugou.
“I’m gonna light a fire under you.” Bakugou always had a way of making Eijirou sign up for district tournaments. They were aiming to be the best in the world, together.
After Katsuki left, Eijirou quit swimming. Not because Katsuki was his sole motivator, or because his performance dropped, but…
It reminded him too much of Katsuki.
Then, he rejoined in high school, because it reminded him so much of Katsuki.
Heart pounding, arms on burning, chest heaving, and all of a sudden, his hand touched the wall of the pool, and the race was… over.
Where was everyone else?
No one was at the wall yet, save for the man beside Eijirou, who he knew was Katsuki Bakugou, who had reached the wall just a second before himself.
Kirishima looked at Bakugou now, fully as the blond heaved himself up out of the water. Toned, great legs, still on the leaner side. Kirishima shook his head as he ran his fingers through his own hair. He needed to say something!
Why was Katsuki not saying anything? Kirishima pushed that thought away. Obviously because they were focused on the race, dammit!
A hand was thrust into Kirishima’s face. A pale,calloused hand.
Kirishima looked up. It was Bakugou.
“Nice race, Red.” It was the first words Kirishima had heard out of Bakugou’s mouth in 5 years. His voice didn’t belong to him. It didn’t sound pitchy and as cracked as he remembered it. The years had given Bakugou’s voice a raspier quality, and obviously deeper tone.
Kirishima hesitated before taking the hand in disbelief, more caught up with the man in front of him than the race he had just completed. “Thanks, man.”
That’s all he uttered out. He was in shock.
A colder part of him wanted to pretend he didn’t remember Katsuki Bakugou. Like that chapter had closed when Bakugou never called back, but with the way Kirishima had been staring, they both knew that wasn’t true.
He wanted to ask “And you are…?” Just to get a shot at playing the cocky smartass for once in his life, but he couldn’t help himself from cracking a smile.
He knew that if he even attempted to feign ignorance, he’d get a solid “fuck you” from Bakugou.
As soon as he got out of the pool, he was swarmed with shouts and cheers from his team as they crowded him. He had tuned out their chants in the water.
“Awwww yeah Kirishima! Personal best, baby!”
“WOOOOOOO ATTABOY KIRI!!”
“Go! Go! Mustafu!!”
“Killer race, Shark Teeth!”
“FRICKKKKKK YEAHHHHHH TAKE THAT LOSERS!”
That last cheer was Kaminari, who hadn’t picked up on proper cheer etiquette despite the multitude of races he’d attended.
Kirishima pumped his fist to his team, and then spotted Bakugou a few feet away, but Bakugou was now facing the leaderboard.
He was so preoccupied with thinking of Bakugou that he hadn’t even thought to check!
#1: Katsuk Bakugou, Aldera Collegiate
#2: Eijirou Kirishima, Mustafu High
#3: Tenya Ida, Somei Academy
Kirishima and Bakugou were 0.02 seconds apart in time. Nearly identical compared to the rest of the lot’s time, which were comparatively slower than the top two.
He’d smoked Ida, one of Somei’s best prospective pros! Holy shit!
He was thrilled he placed second, but as of now, his mind was in a different state… he needed to go find Katsuki.
He looked over across the bleachers, to see Katsuki Bakugou already there, chatting with Fuyumi’s brother and a plain looking, green haired boy.
“They really just let anyone on those elite swim teams these days, huh.” Ashido commented, slinging an arm that didn’t quite reach around Kirishima’s broad shoulders, and pointing to the green haired boy with her hot pink nail.
“Whaddya mean?” Kirishima asked. The green haired boy was awfully smiley with Katsuki. Bakugou sure was eager to get back to his spot and chat it up with that guy.
“I mean everyone’s saying what a wildcard that Midoriya kid is! Apparently, last year he barely qualified for the team, and now he’s been taking lessons from the Toshinori Yagi.”
Toshinori Yagi, nicknamed All Might for his signature muscle strength and endurance had a kid under his guidance. Kirishima wasn’t sure who that was until now. And it’s just gotta be the kid Bakugou’s laughing with. Great.
It took all of Kirishima’s focus to not make his jealously visible, but then he remembered that no one in high school even knew Katsuki, let alone that the two were friends. He could look as pissed as he wanted to and no one would know the reason.
To everyone else around Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou was just a random blonde dude who beat Eijirou’s time by a few hundredths of a second.
“... and it’s like he’s been granted superpowers! Scored first place in freestyle… He’s from Aldera, the same as that boy you raced well against right now… what’s up with that anyway?” Ashido stared up at Kirishima, waiting for an answer.
But Kirishima was too caught up in staring at Katsuki, watching him chug his water, towel dry his hair, talk to his teammates, grab his phone… stare back at Kirishima…
Stare back at Kirishima? Why was Katsuki glaring at him? Why was he pocketing his phone? Why was….
Bakugou advanced toward Kirishima and all Kirishima could do was try to look normal and make small talk with his teammates.
He tried to recall what Ashido was talking about! Had she asked him a question? Fuck, was it a “yes or no” type of question or one in which he had to formulate an opinion? Why was Ashido still waiting for an answer? Why was Bakugou right in front of him?
“Hey, Red. You raced well out there, and I don’t usually say that to people.” Katsuki Bakugou greeted, with his hand extended.
Play it normal. He’s just one of the bros!
Kirishima dapped him up, trying to make pure shock invisible on his face, “Thanks, Katsuki!”
Bakugou’s eyes widened, only slightly, but enough so that Kirishima noticed. Was it a problem that Kirishima had dropped honorifics after so many years apart? Surely Katsuki didn’t expect Eijirou to revert to calling him Bakugou now? After everything they had been through together?
“So, you’re pretty fast out there, huh? Kirishima was on fire tryin’ to keep pace!” Ashido chimed in, waving at Katsuki. Kaminari appeared and agreed.
Wow, Katsuki was gorgeous with his towel dried hair and sharp face and great abs… Kirishima eyes were just trailing down the length of the man in front of him, and he seriously had to adjust his neck upwards before people caught on.
Katsuki shrugged, “I don’t know, Red had me in for it. Synched up pretty damn well.”
“So you go to Aldera?” Kaminari asked.
Katsuki nodded, “Yeah, and you’re Mustafu High, right?”
Kirishima nodded, trying to maintain eye contact, but failing miserably and it almost looked as if he was talking to Ashido with the way his body was angled away from the blond. “That’s right, how was Germany?”
Kirishima wasn’t sure why Katsuki started looking at him strangely. Why was he talking a step back? Did something happen?
“Uh… it was good, but, well— how do you know that?” Bakugou’s eyebrows were scrunched together.
Kirishima laughed, a strange sense of confusion falling over him. “You told me you were going to Germany?”
Ashido and Kaminari looked at Kirishima like he lost his marbles. This was his Katsuki, right? Was his mind playing tricks on him?
Bakugou’s eyes widened. What was up with him? Had Kirishima said something wrong?
”Kiri, do you… know this guy?” Kaminari asked.
Kirishima thought that was the stupidest question ever, but then remembered that Katsuki had left before he had met Kaminari.
Then, Katsuki Bakugou put both of his hands on Kirishima’s shoulders.
“What is happening?” Kirishima could hear Ashido’s whisper. He couldn’t bring his mind to respond.
Katsuki Bakugou’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider. It was starting to get very creepy. Was he okay?
Kirishima was frozen as Katsuki brought a hand up to Eijirou’s face and pulled down his right eyelid, the one with the scar Eijirou had gotten at three years old.
Then Katsuki’s eyes scrunched close, and then opened again.
What the hell is happening?
“Naruhaya?” Was all Katsuki Bakugou said.
“Fuck you mean ‘Naruhaya’?” Kaminari laughed, covering his mouth with one hand.
Ashido chuckled, pinching her nosebridge, “Wrong guy, holy embarrassing.”
Kirishima smiled, “Yeah, Katsuki. It’s me.”
Ashido then face palmed as Kaminari’s jaw dropped. Kirishima tried to tune those two out.
Katsuki abruptly pulled Kirishima into a tight hug. Kirishima didn’t at all mind the fact that they were both shirtless, and reciprocated the hug. He had waited so long for this, it felt unreal.
But this was his Katsuki, standing here after their race, hands wrapped around Kirishima’s waist… the universe really was neat. And of course Eijirou would be crushing on the same guy no matter how much time had passed.
Katsuki smelled like chlorine and that was just how Eijirou remembered him.
“Uhhhh imma head out now, I’ll call you later, Kirishima, congrats on today.” Kaminari patted Kirishima’s arm, and Kirishima nodded in response, still holding Katsuki. There was no way this was reality! He couldn’t stop smiling!
“Yeah, I have so many questions.” Ashido grinned, and then squeezed Kirishima’s bicep, leaving alongside Kaminari.
“Holy shit, Eiji.” Bakugou looked into Kirishima’s eyes. Breathed into Kirishima’s shoulder. Kirishima could feel his smile as Katsuki’s teeth just barely grazed his shoulder. “I didn’t know it was you!”
Huh?
Didn’t… know it was him?
Kirishima's smile soured and his laughter cracked as he pulled away. “Wait what?”
“Hold that thought, grab your shit, shower, and change. I’ll do the same and meet you at those far bleachers in 10.” Katsuki pointed to the meeting spot and walked away, seemingly ignorant of the frown tugging at Kirishima’s mouth, and leaving him dumbfounded.
”Wait what?” Kirishima repeated.
“I need to just regroup and collect myself, I’ll see you in 10.” Collect himself?
Katsuki didn’t… recognize him? Had he changed that much in these years?
Kirishima quickly gathered his stuff and headed toward the showers. He washed his body and hair, dried off, and proceeded to get changed.
He was in black basketball shorts and a maroon tank top. He emerged out of the washroom with a towel scrubbing at his red hair, trying to dry it off. Still processing this reunion.
He spotted Katsuki at the back end of the bleachers like he’d said. He went straight to him and copied him as he leaned against the railing that separated the upper section from the lower ones, observing the ongoing races.
Katsuki was the first to break the silence, as he crossed his arms. “You changed your hair and your name. Who the hell is Kirishima?” Just like Katsuki, always getting straight to the point. Except his voice was all deep and raspy. Not at all like the pitchy, childish tone he once possessed.
Kirishima laughed as he scratched his neck. Nervous habit. “Kirishima’s my mom’s last name.”
“Why’d you—” Katsuki’s eyebrows knitted together as his face fell. “Oh, shit. I—” Katsuki reached out a hand to rest on Kirishima’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Ei.”
Kirishima looked up to stop his eyes from watering. He was fine now, he really was. Dammit, he was an emotional wreck today! First the adrenaline from winning the race, then meeting up with Katsuki, and now a heartfelt talk? What the hell! “S’okay.”
“When did it happen?”
“He passed away five months after you left.” Kirishima had taken his mother’s name then. It was too painful for him to hear the name of his father and then see himself standing in the mirror instead. Eijirou hated hospitals. He hated talking about this.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” And Eijirou knew Katsuki meant it. Brash, hard-headed Katsuki Bakugou always had quite the soft spot for Eijirou Kirishima.
Formerly known as Eijirou Naruhaya.
Eijirou cleared his voice, “It’s been a long time now… when did you get back?”
“At the start of the term. Aldera offered me a dorm and a spot on the swim team after a scout saw me at the Europe regionals. I can’t compete for a spot on their national team though, since I’ve got no German heritage, so it only made sense to come back to Japan eventually.”
Kirishima agreed, but… Katsuki could’ve reached out?
It was like the man beside him was a mind-reader. “I’ve been looking for you ever since I got back, but fuck, I couldn’t find a black-haired Eijirou Naruhaya anywhere.”
“You should’ve just called, man!”
“My number changed in Germany.”
Eijirou flinched at hearing that.
I called you for so long.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Katsuki shrugged, “I didn't think like that, I knew I was coming back for high school at some point, and I thought I’d just find you when I got here. I didn’t think that you’d have changed your name and moved neighbourhoods.”
Right. He’d moved to Mustafu when his dad passed. His aunt and cousins lived in the same area.
”So, what’s up with the hair?” Katsuki took a strand of Eijirou’s hair and twirled it in his hand. It was an average gesture for thirteen year-old Katsuki, but the man in front of him looked quite funny fixated on Eijirou’s hair.
”Whatttt?” Eijirou tried to feign ignorance.
“Oh don’t bullshit me, your hair was jet-black now it’s fire truck red.”
“You like it?” Eijirou felt like he was in a shojo manga. He tried to suppress his face matching his hair.
“Yeah, s’nice.” Katsuki palmed a fistful of Eijirou’s hair gently. Eijirou imagined how strange the pair looked to the rest of the stadium, but there were too many people focused on the races to care, and no one seated this far up.
“So, how’s the swimming career?” Eijirou tried to break this tension. There was always something in the air whenever Eijirou looked at Katsuki.
“Uh, well I was just gonna be at Aldera to get my high school credits in, because I got a spot on UA—”
UA? Katsuki Bakugou was on UA, the most prestigious swimming club in Japan? Coached by THE Toshinori Yagi himself?
“That’s incredible, man!” Eijirou brushed his shoulder with his hand. He was really tempted to just work his hand to palm Katsuki’s neck, but that’d be a bit too forward for their little reunion, right?
Eijirou forgot how frickin’ crazy Katsuki made him. Eijirou was far from a romantic! But this dude… always this one guy…!
“And yet you still kept pace with me, and you’re on some random high school team. You’re better than Mustafu, Ei. Why aren’t you at least at Shiketsu?”
“I’m always late for my morning classes.”
Katsuki’s face scrunched up and Eijirou thought he’d just die on the spot. “Huh? How’s that got anything to do with your school?”
“Mustafu High is right across from my house, so I can sleep in and still manage to make it on time.”
“Just don’t sleep in, dipshit.”
Eijirou smiled at that. This really was Katsuki.
Eijirou shrugged, “I’ve never had a reason to transfer either. My friends are at Mustafu.”
“Fair enough.” Katsuki shifted more of his weight closer to Eijirou as they both leaned against the railing. Katsuki craned his neck further into Eijirou’s space. “But you didn’t explain the hair yet.”
Eijirou grinned, “Just a change for high school.” He didn’t want to explain the insecurities of missing Katsuki and how that had manifested into a personal rebrand. That was way too much to dish out on their first meet up after so many years apart. He’d tell Katsuki… one day. In the meantime, “How was Germany?”
“Great swim program, shit student body. The language barrier was a pain, and well—” Katsuki paused and looked away. “Well, you weren’t there.”
Eijirou couldn’t shut off the part of his brain that had always found Katsuki Bakugou innately attractive. Always boarding on the edge between cute and sexy.
Eijirou was going insane. What the hell was he even thinking about his friend?
Eijirou slung an arm around Katsuki. Definitely not just to get closer to the blond. “Ha! I knew you missed me!”
Katsuki turned back to face Eijirou, but their eyes didn’t line up. Katsuki was blatantly staring at Eijirou’s lips, and Eijirou suddenly felt very pathetic.
Even after all this time, Eijirou couldn’t get his shit together? He had 5 years to prepare! Eijirou thought that if he fell back into the pining cycle of his tweenage years he’d lose his mind completely.
He had placed for nationals today with his time! He could tell his estranged friend that he’d been thinking about him every waking day!
“Was that pink-haired chick your girl?” Katsuki asked, still shamelessly looking at Eijirou’s lips. Fuck, they were repeating a cycle at this point in which they’d do a back and forth questionnaire and then Katsuki would say he’s gotta go to karate class now. Then Eijirou would bike home and call Katsuki on the landline after he was finished with his soccer game. Then Eijirou would cry a bit before he went to bed because he never had the guts to even poach the topic of romance around Katsuki Bakugou.
But he was a man now! He was different! He’d prove that to Katsuki!
“No… Katsuki?” Eijirou had to make a move, even if it cost him his friendship. He needed to tell Katsuki, he couldn’t wait. If he didn’t tell Katsuki today, then who knows when they’d see each other next? Midterms were coming up soon, and Eijirou was going to lose his shit if he just thought about Katsuki the whole time!
“Yeah, Eijirou?”
Eijirou leaned in closer and opened his mouth. A fatal mistake. “You know I missed you, and when I say that, I mean— It’s like,”
Backpedal! Backpedal!
“I’m— there’s a cycle, and my midterms are coming up—”
No Eijirou! Stay on track!
“Fuck, you—”
No! No! Eijirou! Don’t pause your talking now! It sounds like you told him to fuck off!
“You know I think about you?”
Holy shit. Stop talking.
Eijirou retracted and took a few steps back. He utterly messed up what was supposed to be a confession. Had he got his point across? What had he said again? Dammit! He couldn’t do it! He couldn’t cohesively tell Katsuki Bakugou that he… really really liked him!
Dammit! No! He loved Katsuki Bakugou! He needed him back in his life! He missed the fire and the competition and he’s never had a more effortless race in his life and Katsuki’s the only one who could read his mind and be open with Eijirou and understand him in whole.
Five years later, and this was the effect Katsuki had on Eijirou. There was something wrong with Eijirou’s brain. Maybe he needed to go talk to someone about this or something.
Maybe he should rejoin the present situation. Katsuki Bakugou with the same face he used to calculate elementary math with. Focused, looking for an answer.
Eijirou cleared his throat, “Sorry, I—”
And Katsuki wrapped his arms around Eijirou’s neck, and came in so close that they were practically nose to nose. “You think about me after all this time, huh? Guess I’m not the only lunatic.” And there it was, Katsuki’s warm chuckle. Reserved only for the likes of Eijirou Naruhaya.
“Uh, sorry, I—”
Katsuki shook his head, “We just met up again, and I don’t want you saying sorry when this is all my fault. I should’ve reached out more in Germany, but I…” Katsuki looked up to the ceiling, took a pause, and then kept talking. But this time in slower, controlled breaths. “I knew that if I heard from you, I couldn’t keep staying away. I’d run right back home.”
And despite tilting his neck up, tears still managed to flow out of Katsuki's eyes, and he vigorously pushed them back with the sleeve of his black hoodie.
Eijirou remained quiet, scared of what might slip out of his mouth, but when Katsuki smiled at him, he couldn’t help but grin back.
Katsuki really was so beautiful, even after all this time away from him.
Katsuki rubbed circles into the back of Eijirou’s neck. Eijirou put his own hands on Katsuki’s waist, they felt empty otherwise.
“Fuck, you’re tall now. I used to have at least an inch over you.” Katsuki observed.
Eijirou nodded. He was at a loss for words at the moment. The only ones that were trying to fight out of Eijirou’s mouth were…
No! Stop! Don’t say it! Not yet.
He’d tell him he loves him another day. They had only reunited today, after all. He’d make sure they stayed in touch.
“Missed you, man.”
And Katsuki didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t look surprised or weirded out. Instead he leaned more toward Eijirou.
And then started closing the distance between him and Eijirou. There was no way that Katsuki was trying to—
Katsuki was on his tip toes and Eijirou thought his heart was going to stop as Katsuki’s lips just ghosted his. All the nerves in his body were fired up!
Katsuki Bakugou was so, so close, and Eijirou could see every line and freckle on his pale face.
Eijrou was about to lean in himself, let himself go and chase after what he’d been yearning for for the entirety of his teenage life. His heart had always beat to the rhythm of Katsuki Bakugou and there was something about this man that was so utterly seductive that Eijirou couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was like Bakugou was a drug tailored just for Kirishima.
Yeah, Eijirou was a little odd.
But it was all clicking into place, until a man with hair dyed in a halfsplit of red and white appeared, walking up to their section. Eijirou recognized him as the boy that Fuyumi had pointed out was her brother, Shoto Todoroki. Eijirou never wanted to punch a guy this bad.
“Hey Bakugou. Your phone keeps ringing, you left it–” The half-half boy’s jaw dropped as Katsuki and Eijirou tried to compose themselves. There was no frickin’ way they just got walked in on! Dammit!
It seemed like Katsuki was just as displeased with the interruption. “Oh, f-fuck off!”
Eijirou didn’t miss Katsuki’s nervous stutter. Cute.
“Sorry, but your phone.” Shoto placed Bakugou’s orange cell phone in Bakugou’s outstretched palm, only for Bakugou to throw it back at him.
“Stupid IcyHot! Fuck off!”
Eijirou couldn’t tell if the split-dyed boy was sarcastic or feeling remorse. His expression remained a stoic neutral. He must be a good friend of Katsuki’s if he avoided a punch to the gut.
Katsuki sighed, “It’s Coach Yagi. He probably saw the match results. It’s always a long call with him, but it was nice catching up, Eiji.”
Eijirou smiled, “Yeah, glad we got to see each other again. And hey,” Eijirou took a breath, he could do this! “Don’t be a stranger.” He took Bakugou’s phone and typed in his Instagram handle. “Call me, text me.”
Katsuki Bakugou grinned like a man who had won the lottery, “Yeah, that sounds good. I will… are you free on Saturday?”
Eijirou nodded. He’d move whatever he had planned. Sorry to Denki’s movie night, this was a special exception.
“Let’s catch up over dinner. I’ll text you the place.” And with that, Katsuki Bakugou brought Eijirou in for a hug and when they parted, Katsuki Bakugou once again left a very lovestruck Eijirou waiting on the bleachers for him.