#hmepp

[ao3-deviance]

@hmepp suggested Bakugou and Touch being the focus, with Kirishima changing that, and honestly I haven't written any touch-starved Bakugou in a while! So here you go!

TW: for abusive Mitsuki

---Your Warmth---

Touch was...overwhelming. Harsh, sudden, could send his skin crawling. 

Bakugou didn't do casual touching. Most people avoided him–a side effect or a cause of his worst behavior some days, no one would really ever know which came first–but those that didn't–pretty much only his mother–were usually brusk in invading his space. A rough hand in his hair, a slap on the back of his head or his back, a hand curled tight around his wrist followed by a sharp tug...his mother didn't have a soft hand, or if she did, Bakugou hadn't felt it in a long time. He'd had to train himself not to flinch when she came near, refusing to grant her this unspoken win. Her touches grew even harsher at times, when he really pissed her off. A smack to his face, a shove, two hands latched onto his shoulders like claws as she shouted in his face. 

Bakugou kept his hands to himself. He didn't dare touch her, not with literal fire popping in his palms. He avoided her when he could, went stone-faced and tried to ignore her if he couldn't. His dad usually put on some apologetic voice in the background, pleading, 'Mitsuki, please, calm down, can't we all just talk?'

Bakugou didn't talk much to her either. If he had something to say, he'd say it, but what was the point when all his mom did was yell and scream if he ever opened his mouth? 

Living in the dorms was new. There could be whole days between when he'd hear or see his parents, sometimes whole weeks where he wasn't screamed at once. He felt almost like crawling up the wall after nearly two weeks of no one touching him though, not even a slightly rough hand around his arm or fingers digging into his back to make him move out of the way. It made his head spin, that he'd grown so used to her treatment that he would almost want to go home just to feel something. 

The first time Kirishima bumped into him–a genuine mistake–Bakugou froze. The warmth from him was impossible to ignore, his bare arm having brushed against Bakugou's. 

"Ah, sorry, man!" Kirishima smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. Bakugou shook himself out of the daze. 

"S'fine," he muttered. "Watch where you're going."

Kirishima's grin somehow brightened even more. "Sure thing, dude! Hey, did you want to meet up tonight to study instead of tomorrow?" 

"I guess, if you're that stupid," Bakugou shrugged. Kirishima laughed. It made Bakugou's chest clench unnaturally. 

"You're the best, man!" 

Kirishima reached out, squeezing his upper arm gently. Friendly. Bakugou stopped breathing, even as he patted Bakugou's shoulder and then kept going on his way. 

Bakugou burned. He shuddered, standing still right in the middle of the hallway, feeling like he was about to combust. Too much touch. Too soft touch. He gripped his own shoulder tightly, digging his fingers into the muscles roughly, like he could erase the feel of Kirishima's skin. He gulped at air like he'd run a marathon, head spinning. 

It took a few long minutes for him to gather himself together, make his way back towards the dorm in a daze. It had been a fluke, he decided. Just something unexpected. He was fine. 

Absolutely fine. 

…..

He was not fine. 

Over the next few weeks, Kirishima began to touch him more, slowly driving him absolutely mad. He'd brush their shoulders and arms as they walked beside each other, would bump into him lightly when they were talking to get his attention, would gently grab his wrist when he wanted Bakugou to go somewhere with him, or the worst was when he'd put his arm around his shoulder, leaning a little bit of his weight against Bakugou, making it impossible to ignore. 

Bakugou reacted every single time, he couldn't not. Kirishima's touch was warm, soft, in a way beyond anything he could name. Kirishima didn't slap or dig his fingers into him or demand and shout and shake and scream. He laughed and soothed and smiled and whispered and held. 

Bakugou didn't know if he hated it. He didn't know if he could survive it. 

The first time he went home after all the change, he found himself reacting to his mother's touch without meaning too, flinching and drawing away from her. She scowled, raising a brow. 

"You think you're too old to be disciplined now?"

Bakugou set his jaw, teeth grinding. "What's the point? I get it, you're annoyed from work. I didn't do shit, can't you just leave me alone?"

Her face soured and she smacked the back of his head. Bakugou wished he could say he hadn't expected it. 

"Learn some respect, brat."

"Respect for you? Don't make me laugh," Bakugou muttered. He bit back a wince when he saw her face darken, no doubt having heard him. He only had a second to process it before the side of his face stung, the slap sharp and swift. She followed it up with another slap to his mouth and he tasted iron, his lip having split. 

"Go to your room," she ordered. 

"That's where I wanted to go in the first place!" Bakugou shouted, stomping up the stairs. 

"Well you can fucking stay there until you have to go back to that school!"

"That's tomorrow afternoon!" 

"Too fucking bad! Disrespectful brats don't get free food!"

Bakugou slammed his door shut, flicking the lock he'd installed himself years ago and breathing heavily. He was hungry but he could ignore it, it wasn't exactly something he was unfamiliar with. He crawled onto his bed, digging out his phone and flipping through a few apps mindlessly. 

A message alert came up and he clicked on it. Kirishima. 

'Hey, man! How's the break going for you? It's been so good to see family, right?' He'd attached a picture of him grinning with a younger girl with the same red hair--black roots clearly visible as opposed to Kirishima who was very careful to always hide his roots--both grinning with sharp teeth. Bakugou couldn't help but huff a small laugh, smiling tiredly. Then he heard his mother slamming some pots together loudly in the kitchen downstairs and he frowned. 

'It's fine. They don't change much.' He texted back. 

He set his phone down, not feeling like talking, and rolled over to go to sleep. His phone vibrated just as he was slipping under but he ignored it. 

…..

When they returned to the dorms on Monday, it was like nothing had changed. Kirishima welcomed him with an arm around his neck, burning him with his affection. 

"Bakugou!"

"It's only been three days, why are you yelling?" The blond grumbled, shoving him away to keep from imploding at his touch. 

Kirishima took it in stride, laughing and going into some story about his little sister and his mothers. Bakugou bet the other was a great big brother, he just gave off that vibe of protective but also supportive. 

"So what'd you do?" Kirishima asked when he finished his story, bumping against Bakugou's side familiarly. 

"Nothing," Bakugou shrugged, subtly stepping away from the other's touch. It was too much, especially right now when he was just coming from home and his mother's treatment. 

"Ah, come on! You were home for the whole weekend, we even had a holiday! You didn't do anything?"

Bakugou grunted, still feeling the remnants of his mother's slap on his cheek, still tasting iron in his mouth. 

"Nothing."

Kirishima frowned but didn't push further, instead sticking close to Bakugou for the rest of the day, even sitting on the counter to chatter while Bakugou cooked that evening. 

"How do you possibly have this much to say to me? It was only a three day weekend," Bakugou groused. 

Kirishima smiled sheepishly. "I missed you, bro. You're my best friend. The whole break I just kept thinking about things to tell you, but I didn't want to blow up your phone while you were busy visiting with your family." He laughed. "Aiko demanded I bring a picture of you next time, so I can show her what the next Number One looks like."

Bakugou did not blush at that. He stirred the food, ignoring that it was twice his normal portion size. 

"You cooked for me?" Kirishima asked when he plated the food on two dishes. "Thanks, bro!"

Warmth surrounded Bakugou, burning quickly like a flame, but it was only Kirishima's arms enveloping him in a hug. Bakugou almost dropped the plates, shocked by the closeness, but by the time he'd managed to get himself under control, Kirishima had already moved away. He was looking at Bakugou expectantly, gesturing to the seat next to him with a tilted head. 

"Bro?" 

Bakugou grunted, sitting down beside him to eat. The other's arm occasionally brushed against Bakugou's; his leg bouncing idly until it too was pressed against Bakugou's. Familiar. Bright. Gentle. 

Warm.