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Perhaps it’s rather cliché, now that Denki thinks about it—the way he has himself pressed up close to Bakugou’s side, heart thumping ridiculously fast in his chest what with the jumpscare that happened just a couple of minutes prior.
Denki wonders why he’s even watching, knowing himself well enough to be aware of his distaste for horror movies.
But Bakugou enjoys it, and so does Mina and Kirishima—no matter how close to pissing his pants he may look—so Denki has learned over the past few weeks to just suck it up, knowing his, Jirou and Sero’s differing tastes are outnumbered by the horror enthusiasts.
Denki closes his eyes for a moment, willing his racing heart to calm down a notch. A futile attempt, really, as Denki nearly jumps out of his clothes, his heart rate doubling in speed at the sudden scream cutting through the tense silence that fills the room.
It takes him a minute to realize that only one of his hands are clenched tightly into a fist, his left hand tense and digging harshly into soft, warm skin. He looks down, and finds his fingers wrapped around the large expanse of Bakugou’s thigh—or at least, as much amount of skin his small hand could cover of Bakugou’s beautiful, muscled thigh.
It takes Denki another minute to realize that the back of his palm feels warm, and another half a minute to finally notice Bakugou’s hand resting atop his own in a comforting, grounding gesture. Denki feels his heartbeat quicken again, breath catching in his throat as he stares at the sight before him as if it’s a miracle sent from heaven.
Which, Denki rationalizes, it might actually be, considering Bakugou’s seemingly lack of interest in physical affection. But then, Denki remembers they’ve been dating for nearly a week now, and Denki realizes that if Bakugou were to know, he’d call him a big dumbass.
Lovingly, Denki adds as a mental note. Bakugou would call him a big dumbass lovingly.
The thought brings a silly spark of warmth to spread in his chest, and the sensation causes him to choke on his giggle—which, in hindsight, might have sounded more like him dying than him having his internal gay panic—and his grip on Bakugou’s thigh to tighten for a quick second. Bakugou spares him a glance, but Denki isn’t looking, head bowed low to keep the large smile forming on his lips from view, so Bakugou reverts his gaze back to pay attention to the movie.
Denki’s heart stutters in its beating, eyes widening when he feels Bakugou’s thumb move on top of his, rubbing back and forth in a soothing manner—and when Denki turns his eyes to look at where their hands meet, just to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, he nearly cries out his praises to the lord above.
Denki sneaks a glance at Bakugou’s face; finds his face dimly lit in the colors of the movie playing on the laptop screen, his expression stoic save for the slightest furrow in his eyebrows and Denki has to bite down harshly on his lower lip to keep any noise from slipping past, because wow , he really snagged a hot one, didn’t he?
Denki looks back down at their hands, a strong surge of desire and impulse flowing in his veins but Denki tries his best to rein it in, tries to use all of his weak self-control to allow himself time to think first . (Denki gives himself a few seconds to think about how Bakugou would be proud of him for that.)
Denki wants to hold his hand. His hand itches, craves for it and the temptation is far too strong but he wonders if he’d be pushing the limits in doing so. So Denki holds back, weighing the pros and cons of giving in to the urge.
Worst case scenario, Bakugou would yank his hand away, yell at him and send him to his doom with a large explosion in the face. Wonderful. Best case, Bakugou would grip his hand tightly in return, yank him close and give him the best kiss of his life. Fantastic .
Denki doesn’t realize that he’s been pointedly staring at Bakugou’s thigh for several moments too long, but Bakugou does and translates his odd behavior as fear and discomfort. Denki only snaps out of his trance when he feels Bakugou’s thumb press deeper into his skin, continuing its back and forth motion with slightly more pressure.
A grin grows on Denki’s lips and takes the gesture as a boost to his confidence.
Denki briefly acknowledges the fact that neither of the scenarios he came up with are in any way realistic, before he finally musters all his courage to turn the hand underneath Bakugou’s around until palm meets palm. Bakugou’s body tenses and Denki sucks in a breath, willing himself to continue, to intertwine his fingers and lightly clasp Bakugou’s hand.
And when he does, Denki inwardly beams at himself, liking the way Bakugou’s hand feels in his, wanting to do it more often, wanting to never let go—until he realizes that Bakugou’s still tense beside him, fingers unmoving and not wrapped around his hand .
Several seconds tick by and Bakugou still hasn’t moved and Denki can’t hear anything anymore above the alarm bells ringing in his head. Or maybe that’s just the movie’s audio. Or maybe it’s Kirishima screaming. Denki can’t tell, really.
With the beginnings of disappointment and guilt swirling in his chest, Denki slowly moves his hand away and he tries to keep his lower lip from jutting out into a pout; but Denki’s breath gets knocked out of his lungs when Bakugou chases his hand before he could pull away completely.
The grin that blooms on his face is large, blinding as he relishes in the warm and tight grip around his hand. Denki looks up, and notices how Bakugou’s eyebrows are furrowed deeper into the middle and how his jaw is clenched as an attempt to keep his unbothered facade intact. Denki only beams up at him, giving his hand a squeeze, and when he feels Bakugou squeeze in return, Denki looks away, his cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling too widely.
Denki scoots closer to Bakugou, holds his hand tighter and rests his head on Bakugou’s shoulder. And if he weren’t so focused on the feeling of Bakugou’s hand in his, Bakugou’s side pressed to his, Bakugou’s shoulder underneath his cheek—if he weren’t so focused on everything Bakugou, then he might’ve missed the way Bakugou lets out a content sigh and the way Bakugou leans into his hair.
Denki doesn’t.
And Denki concludes that maybe, horror movies aren’t so bad at all.
And when another week passes by, and it’s time to pick the movie for the night, Denki doesn’t oppose the choice of horror movie anymore. When Sero looks at him with a befuddled look, Denki just shrugs him off, convinced that they don’t have to know it’s because he just wants to cuddle close to Bakugou again.
(They know.)