Work Text:
The art studio in the basement of the student center looked just as much as Eijirou would expect an art studio to look. Color coated every corner of the room, both from the paintings and other projects, finished or works-in-progress, strewn about the space, as well as paint from past projects splattered and dried on every surface, like the room itself was a piece of art. The scent of materials Eijirou couldn’t name tickled his nose, but it reminded him of whenever he’d spend Saturday mornings with Kaminari in the university’s art rooms to keep his friend company while he worked on the various art projects he seemed to always be drowning in.
There were already a few other students there for the workshop, chatting around the circle of pottery wheels set out as Eijirou and Kaminari walked in.
“Man, I can’t believe I’ve been here for almost three years and I’ve never been down here,” Kaminari said. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he looked around. “This place is sick!”
“It doesn’t feel much different than the art studios you’ve been taking classes in for those three years,” Eijirou pointed out, but he couldn’t deny his statement; this was pretty cool. A much needed change of pace from the science labs and study rooms he’s holed himself in for the last week as finals got closer. And he could actually create something instead of have his hand swatted away by Kaminari when he so much as reached for one of his open tubes of paint.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t have a thousand deadlines handing over my head here!” Kaminari said. “No expectations for me except to not fling clay across the room.”
Eijirou snorted as they claimed two of the pottery wheels. “I doubt that’s gonna happen, dude…that’s not gonna happen, right?”
Kaminari shrugged, no trace of a joke on his face. “We’ve never worked with clay before, so maybe.”
Oh boy. Eijirou was glad the flyer Kaminari had shown him said to wear clothes he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. Making ceramic Christmas ornaments was a nice way to unclench his brain from the study guides and rock analyses he’d been working on for days, but spending hours waiting for a washer in his dorm building just to hope to wash clay out of one of his favorite shirts would bring on its own stress. Knowing his luck it’d be the week most of the machines would be broken. He wouldn’t mind ruining his trusty Crimson Riot shirt that he’s had since high school at least.
More people filled spots in the circle as the clock ticked toward the workshop’s starting time. As soon as the clock reached the hour, a machine in the back room shut off, and a boy that looked to be in Eijirou’s year emerged from behind the paint-splattered curtain separating the rooms. Green curly hair was pushed back from equally-green eyes with a headband, a smattering of freckles and a shiny-looking paint coated his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and an apron covered in dry paint and clay was tied around his torso. He didn’t seem bothered by the mess on his face as he beamed at the students in the circle. “Hello, and welcome to the ceramic ornament workshop! My name is Midoriya, and I’ll be leading you guys tonight. If you’ll grab an apron, we can go ahead and get started!”
As everybody shuffled to grab an apron hanging from the hooks by the door (also splattered with paint, probably used in past workshops), the curtain parted again as somebody else came out from the back room. Eijirou glanced over at the motion, only to do a double take.
That…that was Bakugou Katsuki. A chemical engineer, if Eijirou could remember right, in many of the general chemistry classes he’d taken back in his first year and was now probably in the labs just as much as Eijirou was, if not more. Whenever he went to do his analyses he’d always find Bakugou at a table in the corner, red eyes scowling at various chemicals in beakers and pipettes. Definitely unapproachable, his foul mood and tongue turning away anybody who was brave enough to strike up a conversation.
Yet here he was now, in the student center art studio and far away from a chemistry lab, dressed similarly to Midoriya with his spiky blond hair pushed back from his forehead and his own apron on. He didn’t spare any of the other students a glance as he left crates of supplies—empty plastic buckets, sponges, what looked like a variety of carving tools—in the middle of the circle before leaving again, not once noticing Eijirou watching him the entire time.
“Yo, Earth to Kiri.” An elbow jabbing into his ribs snapped Eijirou’s gaze away from the curtain falling closed and over to Kaminari, who was smirking as he tied his apron behind him. “You’re supposed to be unwinding for finals, not ogling grumpy hotties.”
“I- I wasn’t ogling him!” Eijirou spluttered, shoving Kaminari back as he grabbed his own apron. “I’m just curious, that’s all.” Anybody would be curious if they just found out that Bakugou Katsuki, resident chemistry grump, had a secret artistic side.
He couldn’t deny the ‘hottie’ part, though. He might be a grump with a foul mouth, but he’s had Eijirou’s attention ever since he told off their gen chem professor on the first week of first year for a mistake he’d made during the lecture in front of the entire lecture hall.
A grump, a hottie, and smart.
“Suuuuure,” Kaminari drawled, sounding and looking completely unconvinced like he could read Eijirou’s mind at that moment, but he left him alone.
Midoriya passed out the supplies Bakugou had left, instructing everybody to fill their buckets at the sink in the corner of the studio before sitting at one of the pottery wheels and diving into the demonstration. He told them the posture they should have while working the wheel, how to wedge the clay to the round top so it wouldn’t be flung off when it started spinning and so it’d actually be workable, and he showed how to make the ornament.
He was chattering the entire time, explaining what he was doing at each step and giving them tips and things to look out for as they worked their clay, but Eijirou wasn’t listening. His eyes were locked onto Midoriya’s hands, watching the lump of clay slowly transform into a Christmas bauble. His actions were smooth, coordinated, his talking not slowing him down in the slightest as fingers dunked into the bucket of water to add moisture to the clay, coaxing the mass up into a rounded shape that he then hollowed out.
Barely any time had passed before Midoriya was shutting off the wheel and slicing the bauble off the top, being met with sounds of awe as he held up the finished product for the group to see. “You’ll still need to poke holes through the top if you want to hand this by a cord or string, and you can use your knife to carve designs into the outside if you want since the clay will be wet until it’s baked, but otherwise this is what you should aim to make. Go ahead and give it a shot!”
The room filled with the soft hum of spinning pottery wheels as everybody got to work. It took a few tries for Eijirou to get his piece of clay properly wedged—he really did almost fling clay across the room as he worked to get it fastened to the wheel—but soon he got it centered, stable, and bubble-free, and he got to work.
He quickly realized that he really should have been listening to Midoriya when he was demonstrating.
Eijirou couldn’t replicate the ease the other boy had had while making the bauble at all, nor could he recall the tips given to try. Where practiced fingers created a smooth ball in seconds, Eijirou just had a lumpy mess on his wheel, either dripping wet in a heap or an uneven mass when he managed to coax it up into some semblance of a cylinder.
He pulled away from the wheel entirely, his back stiff as he sat up from his hunch, to rinse the clay residue off his hands in the bucket and see how everybody else was doing.
He wasn’t surprised to see that Kaminari already had an almost-formed ornament, even if it was slightly lumpy. Even if his focus was in 2D art so he could be a manga artist, he took to just about any art form like a fish in water.
Eijirou’s gaze drifted to survey the rest of the group, but his attention caught on the back room curtain parting again as Bakugou came back, his own wheel throwing supplies in hand and earbuds in his ears. Rather than taking up the last open seat at the circle (right next to Eijirou, he realized, heat rising to his cheeks at the same moment), he went to an extra wheel set up in the corner, away from everybody else.
Eijirou watched Bakugou wedge a piece of clay onto the wheel and start to make an ornament of his own. He seemed to move even faster than Midoriya, the bauble coming together almost like magic as slender fingers morphed the lump into a perfect sphere with ease. He cut it off the wheel and made another ornament, then another, this one more slender like a curvy test tube. The entire time he worked he had that scowl he usually aimed at his chemical samples, like this art project was just as important as his final projects for class.
The workshop group was still wrestling through their first ornament, but Bakugou’s were all done in the blink of an eye, the guy slamming out three like it was nothing.
Manly . Eijirou had more to learn about Bakugou apparently.
Bakugou shut off the wheel and sat back from his hunch with a sigh, and then his gaze met Eijirou’s across the room.
Eijirou’s eyes widened, his heart lurching up to his throat. Bakugou blinked, looking surprised, his eyes widening a bit in recognition—he actually remembered Eijirou? They’d barely talked when they shared classes and didn’t interact at all when in the lab together.
Then Bakugou’s eyes squinted, his resting frown deepening.
Eijirou looked away before the eye contact lingered longer, sure his face was as red as his hair, it felt so hot. He was supposed to be making a Christmas ornament, not staring at cute semi-strangers! He dumped a handful of water onto his clay and started up his wheel, but he was quickly going nowhere again as the sphere collapsed in on itself before it was fully formed.
He bit back a noise of distress that rose up his throat. He was supposed to be relaxing after studying all week. This wasn’t relaxing at all.
“You added too much water.”
Eijirou looked up at the voice close to him, only to inhale sharply. It was Bakugou. Right in front of him, his earbuds dangling around his neck, scrutinizing gaze aimed at Eijirou’s sorry ornament attempt.
“Huh?” Eijirou said dumbly. His brain wouldn’t let him say more than that, too shocked that Bakugou was willingly interacting with him right now. He’d never given him the time of day before now.
“You added too much water and now the clay is waterlogged,” he repeated. “It’ll never come together at this rate. You gotta soak up the excess with the sponge.”
“Oh.” That made sense. Midoriya had done something like that during his demonstration. Blotting up the excess water made it feel less soggy, and pressing the loose pieces back together made the clay something he could actually work with. His tongue poked between his teeth as he pulled up the edges of the ornament. Easy…ignore the cute boy watching you…
“You’re trying to make an ornament, not fucking murder the thing.” Bakugou grabbed the stool from the empty wheel, planting it on the other side of Eijirou’s and plopping down. His hands then cupped around the outside of Eijirou’s; his fingers repositioning Eijirou’s around the mound of clay was the only reason he didn’t send clay shooting up to the ceiling from how fast his body tensed.
A foot nudged his own, making Eijirou jolt again. The faintest wisp of a smirk pulled at Bakugou’s lips and oh, Eijirou didn’t think he would survive tonight. “Relax, Shitty Hair. You stay stiff like that and you’ll never make anything nice.” He let go to switch the wheel off, and he adjusted his posture—back straight and leaned forward, arms braced along his legs that bracketed the wheel in, hands hovering over the mound of clay—and gave Eijirou a pointed look. Did he want him to copy him?
Eijirou did his best to replicate the pose, his face warming again when he realized their positions put their faces inches from each other. If Bakugou had noticed their proximity too, he didn’t react to it, instead nodding in approval. “Keep your hands firm but relaxed around the clay while you’re shaping it. You won’t do shit if you’re barely touching it, and you’ll fuck it up if you squeeze the life out of it.” He turned the wheel back up to the right speed, and his hands were back to guiding Eijirou’s in shaping the clay.
Eijirou tried to ignore the fingers pressed along his—how they were a little chilled from the water and clay, the fingertips rough, probably from working on past crafts, the nails blunt under the clay coating them—and instead focused on what Bakugou’s hands were actually doing. He followed them, watching in amazement as he guided Eijirou’s hands to raise the clay up into a small cylinder, then hollowed it out and coaxed it to look just like the first bauble Bakugou had made in the corner just minutes ago.
“Woah…” Eijirou gaped as he cradled the finished ornament in his hands, careful not to squish the still-wet clay. He looked up at Bakugou, any apprehension he may have felt around him before disappearing as he sent him a grateful smile. “Thanks man, you’re amazing!”
Bakugou scoffed, moving to put his stool back, but Eijirou didn’t miss the faint brush of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t fuck up the next one.” And then he left, heading for the back room.
“Oh, Kacchan!” Midoriya called after him where he was helping another student. “Some others might need help, do you want to stay and-”
“No thanks,” Bakugou responded without looking back, and he disappeared behind the paint-splattered curtain.
HIs rudeness from first year hadn’t gone away, it seemed.
A prickly sensation at Eijirou’s cheek made him tear his eyes away from the curtain, finding Kaminari looking at him with a wide smirk. “You’re not very good at hiding your gay, dude,” he whispered.
Eijirou’s face flamed, and he flung watery clay at a snickering Kaminari. “Shut up!” he hissed, hunching back over his wheel and wedging another piece of clay to avoid the teasing.
Kaminari was right, though. The only saving grace was that if Bakugou had noticed, he hadn’t seemed to mind.
Eijirou headed down the stairs to the basement of the student center a week later. Midoriya had said that their ornaments would be baked and ready to pick up by then; Kaminari was swamped in the manga pages he had to make for his final project, and Eijirou was sure that if he spent another moment in the lab he’d exclusively communicate in rock for the rest of his life, so now was as good a time as any to take a break and pick up their ornaments.
It also gave him a chance to see Bakugou again. Eijirou had seen him in the lab again, but their chance encounter during the workshop didn’t do much to spark a want to have a conversation in the grumpy blond. He’d gotten a glance as he’d walked into the lab yesterday though! Usually Bakugou ignored everybody unless they were encroaching in his space.
Eijirou hoped Bakugou would be at the studio again today. Even if his brain gave him zero conversation starters during the half-hour walk across campus.
The space looked just about the same as it did the week before. Same art projects scattered across the room, same paint-splattered surfaces, but paper snowflakes now hung from the ceiling. The pottery wheels were put away, regular tables set out in their place. A few students were sitting at some of them, working on various projects on their own.
Two other students were at the front counter by the entrance, being helped by none other than Bakugou. He had the same grumpy scowl as last time, but the severity of it was dimmed by the cutesy Christmas decorations on the counter and the Santa hat pulled over blond spikes. Eijirou bit back a smile at the sight. He was probably Santa’s angriest helper.
The students moved to one of the open tables, and when Bakugou’s eyes fell on Eijirou he blinked. “Oh, Shitty Hair. You’re here for your ornaments, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah.” Eijirou approached the counter, leaning against it as Bakugou went to a shelf of baked ornaments nearby. “Just had the two, should have K.E. marked on the bottom. I also wanted to get my friend Kaminari’s, he wrote K.D.”
Bakugou grunted, finding the three ornaments and bringing them back to the counter. Kaminari’s had turned out pretty well, and he’d carved perfect lightning bolts into it. The second ornament Eijirou had made, much lumpier than the one Bakugou had helped him make, had been left blank, while his neater one had waves and spirals drawn into the clay. They weren’t very even, Eijirou not having a talent for art, but it didn’t look bad, at least in his opinion.
Judging by the look on Bakugou’s face as he looked over the ornament, he begged to differ. “You’ve never taken an art class in your life, have you?”
Eijirou laughed. “I’ll have you know I could draw a mean house in junior high. And you’re in the lab just about as much as I am, you know I haven’t taken a class here. I don’t see how you have the time for them.”
“I have to have time for them considering I’m doing an art minor.”
Eijirou stared, baffled. “A chemical engineer, and an artist?”
Bakugou smirked, clearly proud. “Not everybody can be a rockhead like you, Shitty Hair.”
“I have a name, y’know! I told you back in Intro to Chem, remember? Kirishima, not Shitty Hair.”
“Mm, I dunno.” Bakugou’s eyes flicked up to his hair, smirk still in place. “Your hair is pretty shitty.”
Eijirou gasped, clutching a hand over his heart. “My spikes are manly , thank you very much. And your hair is spiky too so you’re not much better than me! Probably worse with the hat.”
“I fucking hate this hat,” Bakugou grumbled. He almost looked like he was pouting. “Only reason I haven’t burned it is because it’s part of the holiday uniform.”
“So you work here, huh? Work-study gig?”
“Not at first. Had to volunteer here as a freshman for one of my classes, and I ended up liking it enough to get hired.”
“Awe, you like helping poor saps with their clay carving? I knew there was a heart behind that grumpy face.”
“It’s called wheel throwing, dumbass. And no, actually.” The smirk was back on Bakugou’s face as he crossed his arms. “I’ve never seen any first-timers screw up at wheel throwing as much as you did.”
Eijirou winced. “Ouch, nevermind about the heart.”
“Hey, fuck you, I’m a delight!”
Eijirou snorted. “Sure, man. I really do appreciate you helping me out though, you’re a lifesaver.”
Bakugou sniffed, looking away, and there was that tint to his cheeks again. “Whatever. Now you know what to do if you ever come back.”
“That I do.” Eijirou grabbed the bag Bakugou had put the ornaments in and turned to leave with a parting wave. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, yeah?” Maybe Eijirou could stop by again at some point before the term ended. Hopefully Bakugou would be working that day too.
“You’re not gonna paint ‘em?”
Eijirou stopped and looked back at Bakugou. “Huh?”
Bakugou almost looked surprised that he’d spoken, but he continued anyway. “You- the ornaments are gonna look like shit without paint and glaze on them. Not that I think you can do that well with the paint.”
Eijirou blinked, stared, then turned fully back to Bakugou, a smile slowly growing on his lips. “I don’t suppose you’d want to help this poor sap of a rockhead paint his ornaments, would you?”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but Eijirou could see a smile of his own tugging at his lips as he walked around the counter. “I guess I have some time. You better not zone out like you did with Deku, though, I’m only showing you once.”
Eijirou hoped his smile didn’t look too dopey as he gave a mock salute. “Wouldn’t dream of it!”