MHA Holdiay series

The air in their cramped dorm room crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to cut with a dull knife. Empty ramen containers littered the desk, testaments to their late-night study sessions. Kirishima, ever the diligent one, was poring over a textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. Kaminari, on the other hand, was slumped dramatically on his bed, a textbook precariously balanced on his chest.

They were inseparable, a constant fixture in each other's lives since their first year at U.A. Now, seniors at Japan University, roommates in the same dorm, they navigated the treacherous waters of final exams together. But beneath the surface of their easy camaraderie churned a secret, a silent confession hidden in stolen glances and lingering touches. Both were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with each other.

Fear, however, reigned supreme. Ruining their friendship was an unthinkable prospect, the price too high to pay for a love that might not be reciprocated. So, they kept silent, burying their feelings beneath layers of playful banter and shared jokes.

The relief after finals was palpable, a shared exhale after holding their breath for months. Mina, ever the orchestrator of fun, threw a massive party, a Class 1-A reunion. The atmosphere was electric, a kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. Kirishima, in his element, was the life of the party, his booming laugh echoing through the room. Kaminari, usually his partner in crime, seemed subdued, content to watch from the sidelines.

Then the infamous game of 'Truth or Dare' began. With each round, the dares grew bolder, the truths more revealing. Kaminari, egged on by Mina's mischievous grin and Bakugo's sneering encouragement, opted for one too many drinks. He quickly spiralled into a state of gleeful incoherence.

Kirishima, seeing his friend teetering on the edge of inebriation, intervened. "Alright, buddy, time to head back."

He guided Kaminari, who was now clinging to him like a lost puppy, out of the chaotic party and back to their dorm. As he helped Kaminari stumble onto his bed, a sudden, slurred confession sliced through the air.

"Ei... Kirishima... I... I really like you. Like, really like you."

Kirishima froze. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to break free. He stared at Kaminari, whose eyes were glazed and unfocused. Was this real? Was this the confession he had secretly longed for, finally escaping the confines of their unspoken feelings? Or was it just the alcohol talking?

"Denki," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "you're drunk."

"Maybe," Kaminari mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. "But I still like you. A lot."

Kirishima's face burned. He carefully tucked Kaminari under the covers, his mind reeling. Was this a confession? Or just a drunken declaration? He sighed, the weight of the secret, now partially unveiled, pressing down on him. He switched off the light and crawled into his own bed, the question echoing in the darkness.

The next morning, a chorus of groans and retching emanating from Kaminari's side of the room jolted Kirishima awake. Kaminari was hanging halfway off the bed, clutching his head. "Ugh...what happened?"

Kirishima sprang into action, grabbing a bucket and helping him to the bathroom. The entire day was spent nursing Kaminari back to health – providing him with water, bland food, and quiet companionship.

As Kaminari started to regain some semblance of his former self, a nervous question escaped his lips. "Hey, uh...how did I act last night?"

Kirishima's cheeks flushed crimson. He bit his lip, unsure how to broach the subject. "You...you were a bit loud. And...you said some things."

Kaminari's eyes widened. "Things like...?"

Kirishima took a deep breath. "Things like...you told me you liked me. More than a friend."

The room fell silent. Kaminari stared at him, his expression unreadable. Kirishima's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a deafening drum.

"Did...did I really?" Kaminari asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Kirishima nodded slowly. "Yeah. You did." He hesitated, then forced himself to ask the burning question, "Did you mean it, Denki? Do you...do you actually like me like that?"

Kaminari swallowed hard, his eyes locking with Kirishima's. "Yes," he said, his voice now firm and clear. "Yes, I meant it. I have for a long time."

The air crackled with a new kind of energy, a potent mix of relief, disbelief, and burgeoning desire. The unspoken feelings, the carefully constructed walls, crumbled around them. The tension was almost unbearable.

Without another word, Kaminari reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and cupped Kirishima's cheek. Kirishima closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. The moment stretched, charged with the weight of unspoken desires and years of suppressed emotion. Then, Kaminari leaned in, his lips brushing against Kirishima's.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration. But as they surrendered to the longing that had consumed them for so long, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. It was a release, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings finally finding their expression.

They broke apart, breathless, their eyes wide and dazed. The room, once familiar and mundane, now seemed charged with a completely new significance.

"Wow," Kaminari whispered, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Kirishima echoed his sentiment, his own smile mirroring Kaminari's. "Yeah… wow."

But as the initial euphoria began to fade, a wave of uncertainty washed over Kirishima. This was it. They had crossed the Rubicon. But was this a lasting start, or just a temporary lapse in judgment fueled by alcohol and pent-up emotions?

They had given in to desire. But was it enough to build a relationship on? Or would the fear that had kept them apart for so long resurface, threatening to tear them apart once more? The kiss was a start, a long-awaited confession finally out in the open. But the real journey, the one that would determine their future, had just begun. And Kirishima wasn't sure if he was ready for it.