Notes:

this is basically just an extended panic attack post sports festival awards ceremony so do what you need to do

thanks to ismytiestraight for beta-ing

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Look, Katsuki is actually cognizant of the fact that he's an asshole, okay?

He knows.

That doesn't mean that he gives enough of a shit to change that fact. He's gonna be the number one fucking hero anyway (no matter what that fucking nerd Deku has to say), and nothing's gonna get in his way.

Obviously.

And real heroes don't fucking panic.

So what he's doing right now? Not fucking panicking, that's for sure.

(...right?)

He registers footsteps sounding from outside the room he's in, coming closer, but he's a little too busy to worry about them right this second and it's not like anyone cares enough to be looking for him. That's the way he likes it, obviously. He doesn't have any fanboys or lackeys at UA, and it isn't like he needs friends or anything, not if he's going to be the number one hero.

(...right?)

But then the footsteps stop, right outside the door, and the person says, "Hey, Bakugou? Are you in here?" and apparently someone does care, which is. Weird.

But he doesn't really have the capacity to unpack that right that second because he's just. Fucking. Trying not to have another goddamn panic attack because he fucking hates enclosed spaces, okay, and when they fucking. Muzzled him like some sort of villain it brought back some really shitty memories and, like. Who the hell thought it would be okay to do that? Because he's pretty sure it's pretty fucking not.

(...right? )

Just. There's a reason he doesn't fucking wear that shitty-ass tie, okay. Besides the fact that it looks fucking stupid, especially on Deku, who can't even tie it properly, and ugh he just wants to strangle that loser and maybe actually fix that goddamn tie because it's a fucking embarrassment, okay.

It's not like he's fucking scared, though, obviously, because only weaklings get scared.

(...right?)

Fucking slime villain.

"Hey, are you...okay?"

Oh, it's Shitty Hair. That's - okay, he guesses? What the fuck ever. He can't exactly devote much brain power to that at this particular point in time.

But he's fine, clearly. He doesn't know why Shitty Hair would even bother asking.

Except he doesn't answer because that would mess up his fucking breathing pattern.

"Bakugou? What are you - " Shitty Hair takes a step closer, and then a fucking shadow falls over him and Katsuki can't stop his stupid fucking body from flinching back.

It's dumb, and he's not fucking scared, because Shitty Hair couldn't - do anything to him. Wouldn't.

(...right?)

But that doesn't stop his shitty fucking brain from setting off all the alarm bells it can get its shitty fucking hands on.

Speaking of hands, his are still fucking - chained up, aren't they? Fuck. Fuck. This is supposed to be a fucking school; it's supposed to be safe -

And he is not fucking terrified, he's not - he's fucking not - not fucking - fucking - not - not - not - not - not -

He tries to count his breaths again, measure them, fucking control them somehow, but he's breathing to fucking fast and his entire shitty fucking body is tensing up and Shitty Hair is stepping closer and - he wouldn't hurt him, right?

(...right?)

But, then again, that's what he'd thought about this fucking school and clearly he'd been incredibly fucking wrong about that so who the fuck knew what Shitty Hair was going to do to him -

"Bakugou? Why are you still chained up?"

His breathing speeds up even more, to the point that he's nearly fucking hyperventilating, and his entire shitty body is tensed tighter than the damn four eyes kid.

And then -

And then -

"Hey, Bakugou, can you hear me?"

There's a warm hand on his shoulder, hot enough that he can feel it through his dirty gym uniform, and he instinctively lashes out at it, trying to use his arms first and then his teeth to just bite whatever fucker thought it was okay to invade other people's personal fucking space -

Except -

Except -

"Bakugou…?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -

He can't move his fucking arms at all , and worse than that, he can't move his jaw - it's been clamped shut with the fucking - muzzl e and this is really, really not okay - he's defenseless - and -

"...Katsuki."

He freezes. Can't move. Fuck. Shitty Hair shifts his weight, like he's about to move, and Katsuki can't stop himself from shrinking into himself. Fuck.

"Katsuki, I'm going to take off your restraints. To do that, I'm going to need to get near you. Is that okay?"

No. No, it's not fucking okay - he's pretty fucking clearly not fucking okay , and he'd really prefer that Shitty Hair doesn't move any fucking closer because that would put him in arm's reach, and Katsuki's already pretty fucking exhausted from the Sports Festival battles, not to mention the screaming and writing he's been doing in an attempt to get out of these - fucking chains , so it's not like he even has the fucking energy to fight him off.

"Katsuki, I can't take off your restraints without getting near you. Is that okay?"

How the fuck is Shitty Hair so fucking - calm right now?

Katsuki blinks twice, trying to figure out what the fuck is happening, and Shitty Hair takes that as some kind of permission and slowly advances. He's crouching on the floor, not fucking - towering over him, so that's - good, he guesses, and he's outstretching his arms, not fucking - leaning forward, so Katsuki doesn't flinch back as violently this time.

Shitty Hair undoes the fucking clasps holding the restraints and then backs off, allowing Katsuki to yank his hands out and force a few small explosions out of his palms because what if he couldn't -

Some of the tension in his chest eases, just a little bit, when sparks fly from his fingertips.

Katsuki fumbles with the fucking - muzzle , fingers numb and frantic. It takes almost a minute of struggling, feeling along the straps holding it on his face for a buckle, and Shitty Hair probably could've done this faster, but Katsuki fucking can not allow anyone anywhere near his fucking throat right now so it's something he has to do himself. As soon as the stupid fucking clasp gives, he flings it across the room so quickly that one of the straps whips his face, almost hitting his eye, and he doesn't fucking care - he just wants it gone.

The fucking - muzzle hits one of the lockers so hard that it dents it, making a loud bang that isn't nearly as loud as his explosions, but Katsuki prays to the gods he doesn't really believe in that no one comes to investigate because he cannot fucking deal with people right now.

Shitty Hair slides down the wall, falling to the floor next to him. Katsuki almost flinches away, but Shitty Hair is just outside his personal space, so that's - fine, whatever. He doesn't have the fucking energy to care.

He's - they're not touching. Not close enough to touch. Which is good, because Katsuki's pretty fucking sure that if anyone touched him right now he'd explode them no matter what their intentions. And exploding Shitty Hair would look bad on his record. That's the only reason.

(...right?)

He's panting hard, so hard his entire body is shaking with the movement (that's the reason, there's no other reason his body would be shivering so violently, like he's caught outside in a snowstorm with no end in sight and it feels like he's breathing in frost), and he's trying to catch his breath - he's basically fucking hyperventilating at this point, which is not good but there's not much he can fucking do and he hates, hates, hates feeling helpless and he hates his teachers and he hates everyone else at this stupid fucking school -

Except.

Maybe not Shitty Hair.

Because he's -

He's -

He's just sitting next to him, not quite close enough to touch, but close enough that he is annoyingly (comfortingly?) present. He's - there.

(Which is - nice? And he...deserves that.)

(...right?)

Except it's not like Shitty Hair's fucking - intrusive or whatever.

It's like -

It's like Shitty Hair's pretending that he walked into an empty room and decided to sit in a corner and Katsuki just so happens to be there and he hasn't noticed it yet. Shitty Hair's got his eyes trained on one of the walls, looking at it idly, but he's deliberately not letting his eyes stray, not even to look at Katsuki out of the corner of his eye.

It's -

He's -

He's giving Katsuki some low pressure time to put himself together, and he is so fucking thankful for that.

(Is...Is this what a 'friend' does?)

Katsuki breathes out a shaky exhale.

Fuck.

He sags back against the wall, limbs still shaking, but his breathing is (mostly) back under control. And if that movement brings him to just barely brush against Shitty Hair (or - it was Kirishima, right?) then, well. No one has to know.

No one has to know about the way Kirishima welcomes the touch, inches closer, even puts a tentative arm around his shoulders when Katsuki doesn't immediately shove him away.

He's just - too exhausted to fight him off, okay.

He definitely doesn't sink into the hold, leaning into Kirishima's side and swiping at his eyes angrily because he can move his arms again.

He's just -

Katsuki's relieved, okay.

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Kastuki's pretty fucking cognizant of the fact that he's an asshole, okay.

But that doesn't mean that it's okay for his school to take advantage of his worst - fears.

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(...right?)

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Notes:

i promise i'm still writing tmq/my detective conan fic

like, i am actively in the process of writing the next chapter

it's not abandone e

if you like this fic you should check out my other bnha fics. especially nothing's out of reach. possibly my magnum opus.

title from Long Way Home (5SOS)