The Nickname

the nickname

[789 words]

Kirishima didn’t mean to let the nickname slip. He really didn’t.

It was a slip of the tongue. Yes, he often referred to his best bro in his own mind as such, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Kirishima had barged into Bakugo’s room earlier that evening for their weekly hangout. Since first year, the two boys had slowly become attached at the hip, and now in their third year they had developed an unspoken rule that Sunday nights were Bakubro and Kiri hangout nights (or, at least that's how Kirishima referred to them). They settled on playing a mean game of Mario Kart tonight, both boys' competitive sides on full display. Normally, Bakugo was the one bringing home the first place title. Kirishima, of course always trying to win, didn’t mind when Bakugo won–he was just so cute with an arrogant fire in his eyes and that feral smirk on his lips.

Kirishima had been sitting on the floor with his long legs outstretched towards the TV (he had grown to be significantly taller than his best friend, much to Bakugo’s dismay) leaning against the bed. Bakugo himself was on the bed above Kirishima, slowly inching towards the edge of the bed in his cross-legged position as he got more and more invested in the game.

It was the fourth and final track of the circuit and Bakugo was up two wins to Kirishima’s one, looking like Bakugo was going to secure his reign for a fifth week in a row. Except… Bakugo was having a lot of issues with the CPUs this round. It was honestly really funny to watch him rage at the game, and Bakugo was doing well enough that Kirishima was still expecting him to win.

“There is no fucking way, I was just hit with a green shell! There is no way that was the full cool down time! Stop laughing, shitty hair, you know that was absolute bull!”

Kirishima could not stop laughing at his best friend’s reaction to his perceived injustice. They were both nearing the end, with them and all of the CPUs neck and neck. Somehow, Kirishima was able to pull ahead into first place, and right before Bakugo was about to cross the finish line for second place he was hit with another red shell.

“Are you fucking serious?! There is no way, I was totally about to cross the finish line! Fourth?? I got fourth place?!? You did not deserve this win, idiot.”

Kirishima threw his head back in his laughter, eyes watering and abs hurting. He heard Bakugo growl above him and felt him shift–wait, since when were they close enough…?

Opening his eyes, Kirishima realized he’d essentially thrown his head back straight into Bakugo’s lap. Fire red eyes met the darker burgundy of the ones above him. There were traces of a scowl on his face, no doubt from the loss, but Kirishima was met with mostly surprise from his best friend above him.

The blinds were open, letting the golden rays of sunset stream through the window. Kirishima had never thought much about the positioning of the dorms, but in that moment he was thanking every deity he could list that they were facing west. The light reflected beautifully off the blonde locks hanging over Bakugo’s face as it tilted towards him. The rays filtering through his luminated hair refracted through the reds of his eyes. Bakugo naturally ran warm, a side effect of his quirk which could be felt by the boy in his lap. His strong calf and quad muscles had tensed when a head first landed in his lap, but, and to Kirishima’s surprise, they were relaxing into the comforting weight.

There was little Kirishima could do other than stare up at the beautiful sight above him.

“...’Tsuki…”

“...Huh?”

He hadn’t realized anything had come out of his mouth until the boy above him twisted his face in confusion and replied. Kirishima flushed, immediately trying to backpedal. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, I’ll…” He moved to lean his head upright and shift away, not wanting to make his best friend uncomfortable.

He couldn’t, though. Not with a hand in his hair.

Steeling himself (ready to harden himself for an explosive reaction, literally) he looked back up into the eyes of the boy he more than likely had just crossed a line with. When he met the other’s eyes, however, he was shocked to find a hint of a smile on Bakugo’s face and… was that a blush?

“The moon to your sun, huh? I–I like it.”

He felt his face split open into the widest smile Kirishima could possibly handle, reaching his hand up to join the one holding his hair gently.

“Alright then, ‘Tsuki.”