[oh great. he broke his shy little brain. he's never been much into flirting. all the girls were scared of him during middle school, valentines was a joke, and the boys around him always fawned over his strength and skill. they didn't care utter words about his appearance in the realm of "sappy mushy crap" as he always called it. flirting was the thing he saw in romantic movies (the one or two his mom managed to drag him into) or occasionally done in action movies when the macho hero was chatting up a girl or guy he liked. pissed him off. why does he wanna see two people dance around the topic when they could've straight up said what they wanted and gotten onto the action! (not the sex action, didn't watch those kinds of things.) a bunch of words tripping from awkwardly embarrassing to annoyingly insincere. he grew up telling himself he'd never bother with something as inane as flirting, or put up with someone doing the same to him! and lucky for him, here he is in high school and has hasn't dealt with flirting once! ... until now.
his first flirt and it's from a guy who doesn't even realize it was a flirt?! of all the fucking luck.
hunched shoulders drop and his head cants to the side in a mixture of scrutiny and wary nonchalance. one word and amajiki's ducking down into his chest like a snail attempting to hide in its shell. as if he can somehow vanish into his cup of chocolate. tch, tough shit there, senpai. he'd fish him right out of his stupid drink and force him to own up to his words! if he isn't scalding his tongue with each swallow. (no way. he'd never give someone a drink too hot for them. what kind of shitty host do you think he is?)
patience and demand begin to wear and grow respectively. he asked a question and wants an answer! stumble, stutter, sputter, stammer, doesn't care how amajiki gets it out. the sweater's knitted material stretches kind of comfortably on his elbows and forearms as he swings them up into a fold over his chest, one hand tucked beneath his triceps, the other drumming expectantly on his bicep.]
I don't give a shit what I know. [he knows he looks good, even if he doesn't really bring attention to it. and most things suit him, clothing wise, even if he avoids stupid crap. if amajiki bought him this, then obviously the guy had him in mind! so now he's got his intention in front of him, wearing he gift, so put those thoughts to tongue and spit it out! tch, there goes his weak-kneed self-deference again. how the hell did this guy get to be a senior with some of the highest hero success rankings under his belt? honestly boggles the mind he makes it work.]
I asked, and it matters, cause I wanna hear what you think, dumbass. You're not shallow enough to buy something without the person you bought it for in mind.
( well, he does have him there. he's definitely not shallow enough to do something like that--and admittedly he had thought a bit hard about what to get him, at least in the realm of what had been allowed, and had been worried enough about the size that he'd gone back and forth between them a few different times. bakugou's not particularly tall, but he's got sizeable muscle, so the material definitely needed to allow for that without being too long or too tight...but does that really mean anything? being thoughtful about someone else isn't flirting.
no, even when he tries to spin it around, he knows that he's wrong. he's flirting. even if he doesn't like it, even if it's embarrassing, even if it's not going to go anywhere and really is just blowing up in his face, at this point, it's not worth it to keep trying to run away from it.
at least his mortifying moment is almost done. there's nothing left in his mug, and even when his eyes squeeze shut, for a moment, he can't seem to vaporize himself from the room, so he has to see the rest of it through. slowly, he lifts his chin, a brief glance at bakugou from under his bangs before he pushes himself up from the bed, almost abruptly, so that he can lean to set his empty mug over on the nearest flat surface.
he would have offered to wash it himself, but--no, better to not give bakugou any more reason to get annoyed with him. )
...I think you're handsome. ( with his back slightly turned, it's easier to say it, somehow: not that he hasn't already admitted it, as his eyes move up to peer at the dark corner of bakugou's ceiling. ) I think it looks good on you. I like it on you. I hope...
( a long, shaking breath, through his parted lips. ) ...you'll wear it a lot.
( his hands flex at his sides, fingers bending, forcing feeling back into them, and it's only once he's steadied his expression, and steadied his shoulders, that he turns back to face bakugou again, struggling with some kind of watery smile that doesn't seem like it wants to stay on his face. so embarrassing. maybe he can dig a hole beneath their dorm and hide. )
I'm going to take the rest of the gifts downstairs. Happy Christmas, Bakugou-kun.
[gifts should take effort, thought and time put into it. why the hell would he waste resources getting something which means nothing or took nothing? didn't matter if amajiki bought a bunch of them for the other extras in his class; he specifically handed him this one, singled out and wrapped with him in mind. of course he's gonna make him review the results! is his senpai flirting with him? who the hell knows; this guy would flee to the nearest corner at the mere mention of his own damn name. must've been hard for him to wander through the store, online or in person, and wrack his brain with ideas on what to get.
pretty damn sure amajiki didn't come in here with the intention of putting his foot in his mouth. or opening up some of the lamest chat ups. he tried. denied it, but tried. counts for something, even if it annoys him the other hero couldn't man up enough to say so to his face.
then again, if amajiki strode in through his window and announced his feelings with a straight back and clear eyes, he would've slammed an explosion into his face so hard... imposter.
an ashen brow props upward to his bangs, following the older teen's sudden rise. mug to the desk, face averted, voice clenched despite his deeper husk forcing his words out his throat. it's what he wants to hear. he reaches up and fiddles with the sweater's neck, hooks a finger under its hem before sweeping from one side to the other in a quick adjustment. sitting better around his throat. not too tight, roomy enough, warm in cooling air. it's ridiculous, but it's not bad. he'll probably end up wearing it later since everyone else is gonna harp on him like insane birds to see it.]
Hmph. Took you long enough. [sharpness dulled, aggression cooled, his voice calmed. yeah, amajiki said it before, but this time feels different. better. red eyes linger on his upperclassman's back profile, his hair jutting out behind in a semi-wild lift despite his relatively styled front. shoulders hunched, head up, wanting to leave, strong enough to stay.] Those damn extras are gonna give me a lot of reasons to.
[not like he's gonna admit to wearing it himself on a cold night. he glances at the window and snowy world under a brilliant sun. a gift's not only the item; it carries the person who gave it. remembering him within a knitted covering. like amajiki's keeping him warm. tch, sappy shit thoughts. he turns his head to meet his gaze, noting his indigo gaze quivering under his bangs above a tremoring smile. he really is putting so much effort into this.]
Thanks. [a sincere response.] For coming to see me. [might have been the simplest route to get into the dorm without going through the front door, but... he came to see him specifically. he clicks his tongue before rubbing at the side of his neck.]
( it feels like waiting for a pin to drop: like everything else in the room is suddenly so quiet, because bakugou is quiet, too, because he's not yelling at him, or demanding things of him, or speaking in that loud voice. it's softer, now, sincere, and he allows himself one small moment of weakness: his eyes squeeze shut, shoulders lifting, but a gulp of air forces them back down again; he's the older one, here, he should be more composed. it shouldn't be this hard to just admit to himself he's doing something stupid. bakugou is accepting it gracefully.
is that how it's supposed to go? if anyone's ever flirted with him, he's had no idea of it, so he equally has no idea of how he should be proceeding, here. so rather than put any undue burden on bakugou, he gives a quick dip of his head in gratitude, acknowledgement, before turning away again; of course, it's as he's gathering up the other gifts to take them out of the room that he hears the rest.
immediately, the bag slumps onto the floor again, because his hands forget how to close. )
Wh-wha.... ( he starts, stops, tries to force his arms down again and finally succeeds in gathering the bags back up again--but it feels a little like a strong breeze might knock him over.
right. that's normal too though, isn't it? having lunch with one of the other students. bakugou probably wants to ask him about being an upperclassman, or about work studies, or any number of other things. at least, putting it that way in his head makes sense: he glances at him, slightly, before looking to the door. )
I'll c-come by tomorrow, around n-noon. We can go wherever y-you want. I'll see...see you then.
( with a soft swallow: and then, faintly, a pale-looking smile, a little nervous, before he gathers himself up enough so that he can reach for bakugou's door; if he stays any longer, he might just start rambling or worse, fall into despair in the corner, so he's quiet and succinct about seeing himself out. )
[his upperclassman's older than him, more advanced in schooling, closer to graduating and adulthood. yet he's the one who feels like he's dealing with a middle school brat trying to weather a crush. shoulders all bunched up towards his pointed ears as if to shut out noise and stave off the executioner's verdict a few more seconds. throat tightening in a swallow he hears, probably to amajiki's utter mortification. won't even look at him through his eyes slammed tight shut. for someone making a confession, he's sure doing a shit job of it! ... then again, if he wasn't, he'd think the ramrod hero in front of him was a fake.
a year ago, he wouldn't spare the time of day to someone so self eroding. hmph, a year can do a lot. whether this is an actual confession instead of a blurted grab at whatever came to mind, or nothing more than a stumbling attempt at flirting with him, it doesn't really matter now, does it. he made his decision and gave amajiki an answer. doesn't want him exploding in a shower of nerves and fretting grey matter. and maybe he kind of might be interested in more too.
ugh, there goes the fucking bag again.] What'd those sharp ears of your forget how to hear?
[mattaku, this guy... luckily amajiki manages to pick up the bag. he was two seconds away from stomping over there himself and double knotting it around his stupid chicken neck.
one hand drops into his pants pocket, the other tugging at his new sweater's hem to make it sit better around his waist. really is a garish thing he wouldn't be caught dead in. meaning he's probably gonna wear it the next time amajiki comes to his room. good thing he can't read his upperclassman's mind right now. he'd have nuked his flighty head for daring to make assumptions about him!]
Uh-huh. I'll take you someplace you'll like. [where the fuck would such a place be?! blindfolded anonymous lunches for two in separate rooms as you talk through the table-to-table intercom?! shit, he's gonna have to research restaurants and find something amajiki can go to without passing out in an anxiety stupor at the table.
... maybe he should cook in his room instead. no crowds, no menus, nothing demanding. amajiki's already been in his room, thought he'll at least keep his shirt on this time.] Scram.
[no effort made to see him out, approaching right now would only make the guy flustered and think he was coming in for an attack. as the door shuts, he's left with his thoughts, frowning softly at the window. huh... so his upperclassman likes him.
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no subject
Date: 6/24/25 16:45 (UTC)his first flirt and it's from a guy who doesn't even realize it was a flirt?! of all the fucking luck.
hunched shoulders drop and his head cants to the side in a mixture of scrutiny and wary nonchalance. one word and amajiki's ducking down into his chest like a snail attempting to hide in its shell. as if he can somehow vanish into his cup of chocolate. tch, tough shit there, senpai. he'd fish him right out of his stupid drink and force him to own up to his words! if he isn't scalding his tongue with each swallow. (no way. he'd never give someone a drink too hot for them. what kind of shitty host do you think he is?)
patience and demand begin to wear and grow respectively. he asked a question and wants an answer! stumble, stutter, sputter, stammer, doesn't care how amajiki gets it out. the sweater's knitted material stretches kind of comfortably on his elbows and forearms as he swings them up into a fold over his chest, one hand tucked beneath his triceps, the other drumming expectantly on his bicep.]
I don't give a shit what I know. [he knows he looks good, even if he doesn't really bring attention to it. and most things suit him, clothing wise, even if he avoids stupid crap. if amajiki bought him this, then obviously the guy had him in mind! so now he's got his intention in front of him, wearing he gift, so put those thoughts to tongue and spit it out! tch, there goes his weak-kneed self-deference again. how the hell did this guy get to be a senior with some of the highest hero success rankings under his belt? honestly boggles the mind he makes it work.]
I asked, and it matters, cause I wanna hear what you think, dumbass. You're not shallow enough to buy something without the person you bought it for in mind.
no subject
Date: 7/3/25 19:48 (UTC)no, even when he tries to spin it around, he knows that he's wrong. he's flirting. even if he doesn't like it, even if it's embarrassing, even if it's not going to go anywhere and really is just blowing up in his face, at this point, it's not worth it to keep trying to run away from it.
at least his mortifying moment is almost done. there's nothing left in his mug, and even when his eyes squeeze shut, for a moment, he can't seem to vaporize himself from the room, so he has to see the rest of it through. slowly, he lifts his chin, a brief glance at bakugou from under his bangs before he pushes himself up from the bed, almost abruptly, so that he can lean to set his empty mug over on the nearest flat surface.
he would have offered to wash it himself, but--no, better to not give bakugou any more reason to get annoyed with him. )
...I think you're handsome. ( with his back slightly turned, it's easier to say it, somehow: not that he hasn't already admitted it, as his eyes move up to peer at the dark corner of bakugou's ceiling. ) I think it looks good on you. I like it on you. I hope...
( a long, shaking breath, through his parted lips. ) ...you'll wear it a lot.
( his hands flex at his sides, fingers bending, forcing feeling back into them, and it's only once he's steadied his expression, and steadied his shoulders, that he turns back to face bakugou again, struggling with some kind of watery smile that doesn't seem like it wants to stay on his face. so embarrassing. maybe he can dig a hole beneath their dorm and hide. )
I'm going to take the rest of the gifts downstairs. Happy Christmas, Bakugou-kun.
no subject
Date: 7/13/25 02:33 (UTC)pretty damn sure amajiki didn't come in here with the intention of putting his foot in his mouth. or opening up some of the lamest chat ups. he tried. denied it, but tried. counts for something, even if it annoys him the other hero couldn't man up enough to say so to his face.
then again, if amajiki strode in through his window and announced his feelings with a straight back and clear eyes, he would've slammed an explosion into his face so hard... imposter.
an ashen brow props upward to his bangs, following the older teen's sudden rise. mug to the desk, face averted, voice clenched despite his deeper husk forcing his words out his throat. it's what he wants to hear. he reaches up and fiddles with the sweater's neck, hooks a finger under its hem before sweeping from one side to the other in a quick adjustment. sitting better around his throat. not too tight, roomy enough, warm in cooling air. it's ridiculous, but it's not bad. he'll probably end up wearing it later since everyone else is gonna harp on him like insane birds to see it.]
Hmph. Took you long enough. [sharpness dulled, aggression cooled, his voice calmed. yeah, amajiki said it before, but this time feels different. better. red eyes linger on his upperclassman's back profile, his hair jutting out behind in a semi-wild lift despite his relatively styled front. shoulders hunched, head up, wanting to leave, strong enough to stay.] Those damn extras are gonna give me a lot of reasons to.
[not like he's gonna admit to wearing it himself on a cold night. he glances at the window and snowy world under a brilliant sun. a gift's not only the item; it carries the person who gave it. remembering him within a knitted covering. like amajiki's keeping him warm. tch, sappy shit thoughts. he turns his head to meet his gaze, noting his indigo gaze quivering under his bangs above a tremoring smile. he really is putting so much effort into this.]
Thanks. [a sincere response.] For coming to see me. [might have been the simplest route to get into the dorm without going through the front door, but... he came to see him specifically. he clicks his tongue before rubbing at the side of his neck.]
Tomorrow. If you've not busy, meet me for lunch.
no subject
Date: 7/29/25 19:48 (UTC)is that how it's supposed to go? if anyone's ever flirted with him, he's had no idea of it, so he equally has no idea of how he should be proceeding, here. so rather than put any undue burden on bakugou, he gives a quick dip of his head in gratitude, acknowledgement, before turning away again; of course, it's as he's gathering up the other gifts to take them out of the room that he hears the rest.
immediately, the bag slumps onto the floor again, because his hands forget how to close. )
Wh-wha.... ( he starts, stops, tries to force his arms down again and finally succeeds in gathering the bags back up again--but it feels a little like a strong breeze might knock him over.
right. that's normal too though, isn't it? having lunch with one of the other students. bakugou probably wants to ask him about being an upperclassman, or about work studies, or any number of other things. at least, putting it that way in his head makes sense: he glances at him, slightly, before looking to the door. )
I'll c-come by tomorrow, around n-noon. We can go wherever y-you want. I'll see...see you then.
( with a soft swallow: and then, faintly, a pale-looking smile, a little nervous, before he gathers himself up enough so that he can reach for bakugou's door; if he stays any longer, he might just start rambling or worse, fall into despair in the corner, so he's quiet and succinct about seeing himself out. )
no subject
Date: 8/14/25 15:20 (UTC)a year ago, he wouldn't spare the time of day to someone so self eroding. hmph, a year can do a lot. whether this is an actual confession instead of a blurted grab at whatever came to mind, or nothing more than a stumbling attempt at flirting with him, it doesn't really matter now, does it. he made his decision and gave amajiki an answer. doesn't want him exploding in a shower of nerves and fretting grey matter. and maybe he kind of might be interested in more too.
ugh, there goes the fucking bag again.] What'd those sharp ears of your forget how to hear?
[mattaku, this guy... luckily amajiki manages to pick up the bag. he was two seconds away from stomping over there himself and double knotting it around his stupid chicken neck.
one hand drops into his pants pocket, the other tugging at his new sweater's hem to make it sit better around his waist. really is a garish thing he wouldn't be caught dead in. meaning he's probably gonna wear it the next time amajiki comes to his room. good thing he can't read his upperclassman's mind right now. he'd have nuked his flighty head for daring to make assumptions about him!]
Uh-huh. I'll take you someplace you'll like. [where the fuck would such a place be?! blindfolded anonymous lunches for two in separate rooms as you talk through the table-to-table intercom?! shit, he's gonna have to research restaurants and find something amajiki can go to without passing out in an anxiety stupor at the table.
... maybe he should cook in his room instead. no crowds, no menus, nothing demanding. amajiki's already been in his room, thought he'll at least keep his shirt on this time.] Scram.
[no effort made to see him out, approaching right now would only make the guy flustered and think he was coming in for an attack. as the door shuts, he's left with his thoughts, frowning softly at the window. huh... so his upperclassman likes him.
well damn.]