Thread by @transboybakugou

💥Whomst?💥

KrBk AU thread

Katsuki is the most famous TV actor in the world. His face is plastered across goddamn billboards, so why is this attractive—no, annoying—guy talking to him like he's a nobody? He's Bakugou fucking Katsuki, doesn't this guy understand that?

Notes:
💥QRT, please don't reply!
💥No quirks
💥They're all 21-22
💥Bakugou is trans and HOH, as always
💥Based on this tweet of mine and @cherryredriots' comments on it

https://twitter.com/transboybakugou/status/1181792568360747008?s=20

Main ship
💥KrBk
Minor ships
💥MomoJirou, married
💥IzuOcha, dating
💥TetsuKami, dating
💥CamieMina, pining
Hope you all enjoy!

"So, Bakugou, any new projects on the horizon?" The interviewer asks, voice sickly sweet. Her teeth are too white and her smile is too wide. He hates her. She doesn't care about him, she only cares about gossip and ratings and money.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. He won't play nice, even while the cameras are rolling. This woman hasn't earned that, and she never will. "Wouldn't you like to know." It's a recorded interview, sure, but they can only do it so many times.

She laughs delightedly, like they're playing some game she knows the secret of. But he's not playing any games, he's never playing any games, the way the rest of them do. He's not a fucking child and he has better goddamn things to do.

He hates doing shit like this, hates pleasantries and small talk, hates pretending he's someone he's not. He doesn't buy into the Hollywood bullshit, he only worries about himself and his paychecks, because at the end of the day, it's unnecessary.

Who needs all that ass kissing garbage when you're good at what you do? If you're talented enough, you can make it in this business. Just look at Katsuki—he has the personality of a steaming pile of garbage, and he's the most popular actor in the country.

"Well, we know that My Hero is ending soon, so you must have something in the works. What do you plan to do once you finish filming?"

"I told you, it's none of your goddamn business."

Her face crumples and he puffs up a little, smug that he's finally gotten to her.

Serves her right for grilling him about his love life earlier. He has none to speak of, but even if he did, he still wouldn't tell her shit.

She was so resilient before that it makes his victory all the sweeter. There’s no way to coax him into docility, not with too-wide smiles and bleached teeth, not with all that plastic in her face.

The producer groans and resignedly tells the cameramen to stop filming, which spells bad news for Katsuki, because he's almost certainly about to be chewed out. That'll be annoying for sure.

Instead of coming out himself, though, the producer sends in Katsuki's manager, which is infinitely worse. She'll scold him and it'll actually hurt.

"Katsuki," Momo begins, and Katsuki already has his head in his hands, "Can't you get through just /one/ interview without being a jerk? You promised you'd try."

Ugh. He /did/ promise. Past him was a goddamn idiot.

He tightly crosses his arms, wincing when he puts pressure on his bound chest. It’s sore from being squished by his binder all day and the pain is doing nothing to help his already sour mood. "They don't need to know all my shit, okay?"

"Then make something up! Say you're going on vacation or spending time with family, it doesn't have to be true. Just be nice and don't swear! There are 3 questions left, that's it, just get through them and we can go home." She sounds exasperated and disappointed, which stings.

Shit, she has a point. Fine. Okay. He still won’t play nice, but he’ll be decent if it gets him back to his apartment quicker.

When the interview airs, his fans go crazy, but that's nothing new. There's a whole corner of twitter dedicated to "stanning" him or whatever, but he doesn't really know what that means. His best friend knows more about it than he does, but Camie never wants to explain anything.

She cracks jokes about “Kacchako” and “Bakudeku” but he has no idea what that means. It makes her sound like a goddamn clown.

Even though she teases him about it all the time, he's given up on understanding it. Twitter is a goddamn cesspool and there's no reason for him to subject himself to that.

I guess it’s time to clarify a few things, huh?

Katsuki is an actor who's really only had one role in his whole career, but that was all he needed to get stupidly famous. He's on the number one TV show in the country right now, My Hero, as the deuteragonist. His character is the most popular one by a long shot.

My Hero ends next year, and they're about three weeks away from finishing filming all his scenes. The show has been his life for the past 6 years, and it's almost over. He's honestly not sure what to do with himself.

His friends all have their own careers, so these days he finds himself alone more often than not. He's already bored out of his skull right now, and they're still filming. It'll be nothing short of agony once they're done.

He wants—no, needs—to be in motion, to be out in the world and active, but he's much too famous for that.

Almost every time he steps out of the house, he gets recognized, so he rarely goes out these days. Especially alone. It’s not worth getting harassed by the paps if he's just going for a walk or something—he needs a good reason to brave their onslaught.

Honestly, there are /very/ few good reasons to venture out of his apartment. There’s probably an ass imprint on his couch from how much time he spends sitting around and watching cooking shows and Star Trek.

With the end of filming looming over him like a heavy fog, Katsuki finds himself wishing for something exciting to happen, something better than loafing around his apartment all day.

God, he might actually have to start going out.

If he does actually go out, there are only a few places he can go without being swarmed. One of them is a gym a few blocks from his apartment, which he sometimes goes to instead of the one in his complex because it has more machines and better music.

He’s there now, on one of many ellipticals, mind hollow and echoing. He’s exhausted but he’s not there, yet, he’s not where he needs to be.

In an attempt to tire himself out, he focuses on his breathing and doubles the incline. It works a little bit, and that's better than nothing.

He likes coming here when he can't sleep. Normally, he's in bed by 8:30, but sometimes insomnia hits him hard and he has to work himself to exhaustion just to get some shuteye. He'll look like shit tomorrow, but that's what makeup's for.

It's late and the gym is empty.

Well, there's technically two other people here. There's the weird goth desk guy who looks more like a bird than a human being, and some gigantic redhead going ham on a treadmill a few feet away.

Katsuki tries to ignore the redhead but damn, he's running fast, and wow his shorts are short, and holy shit his biceps are bigger than Katsuki's head. Is this guy even real?

He looks like a goddamn mirage.

Once Katsuki finishes on the elliptical, he wipes the machine down and takes a bathroom and water break, checking his Insta and texts to find way too many notifications from each. He'll text Camie and Momo back, fine, but Deku can fucking choke on it.

When he heads into the weight room—which he calls a room but it's really just a corner of the gym surrounded by a half wall—the redhead is on Katsuki's favorite weight bench.

Oh no, this will /not/ do.

"Hey, asshole," Katsuki sneers as he approaches the man, trying to keep his eyes focused on the guy's face and not his flexing arms, "That's my goddamn bench."

The redhead grins and holy /fuck/ those are some sharp ass teeth. Does he fucking file them?

"Oh?" The man hums, and his grin becomes nothing short of shit-eating, "Is your name on it or something? I must've missed it."

The audacity. Katsuki's going to kill this man.

"Fuck off, get a different bench."

"No way, dude! There's, like, a hundred other benches, just use one of those. I was here first so I'm not moving." Is this guy a fucking idiot or something?

Katsuki shoots the man with his best glare, the very same one that made a kid pee his pants in middle school. Apparently unimpressed, the guy simply raises a sardonic eyebrow and Katsuki sees red. "Don't you fucking know who I am, shitty hair?!"

The man tilts his head to the side and squints at Katsuki's face for a long moment, then shrugs and huffs a laugh. "No? ...Should I?"

What the fuck? Katsuki is the highest-paid TV actor in the country. His face is on fucking billboards. Does this guy live under a rock?

"I'm Bakugou fucking Katsuki," He snarls, getting angrier with each passing second, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The guy looks amused more than anything else. "And I'm Kirishima fucking Eijirou. Find another bench."

Katsuki is dumbstruck. No one has /ever/ not recognized his name. Or talked to him like that, for that matter.

"How do you not know who I am?! I'm on fucking My Hero!"

"Oh, that's that superhero show everyone’s always talking about, right? I've never seen it 'cause I don't watch TV. I don't have cable."

"I—you—what?!"

"Do you play Naruto? I think that's one of the characters, yeah?"

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Did this bitch just say NARUTO?!

Okay. Okay. Deep breath. So this is apparently the dumbest man alive. Great. "No, you absolute fucking moron! Naruto is a goddamn anime character!"

"Oh. Oops?" Oops he says.

Alright, that's about enough of that. Katsuki's blood pressure won't be able to handle much more of this. "You know what? Fine. Keep your stupid fucking bench, I'm going home." With that, he spins on his heel and stomps out of the gym.

He manages to avoid the paps on his way home, but just barely. They're loitering outside the front entrance to his complex so he sneaks in the back. The security guy waves tiredly at him and he nods in return, trudging into the elevator and leaning heavily against the wall.

When he makes it to his door, he realizes that he left his gym bag—the one with his keys in it, of course—in the locker room. Shit.