Chapter Text
Bakugo didn't do concerts.
It was the exact type of environment he despised. Well… he despised most environments that weren't his apartment or a kitchen. But still.
Uraraka had dragged him along. Ever since their freshman year, she’d been so far up his ass it was unhealthy, and he’d given up on trying to run from her around the middle of their second semester. Over the years she’d become more tolerable, but she was still annoying as all hell, always trying to look out for his “health and happiness” like it was her fucking duty.
And now, he was being dragged to a concert by a band that Deku liked.
“Ugh. Fuck this,” he grumbled angrily, his hands clenching in his pockets. Uraraka threw an arm around his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. Bakugo glared at her.
“Come on. You’ve been needing to get out of that shithole apartment of yours for weeks baby,” she joked. Bakugo shoved her away.
“Really, Kacchan. Just stay for one song?” Deku smiled softly, grabbing Uraraka’s hand and stepping between her and Bakugo before the inevitable fight.
Bakugo kicked a rock that was in his way on the sidewalk. “Shut up Deku,” he muttered.
Both of them smiled at each other, but thankfully left him alone for the rest of the walk into the theater. Bakugo tried to ignore the twist of uncomfort in his stomach as the two of them started chatting without him. He’d have to get used to it eventually. They’d gotten together, fuck, like 4 years ago. He should be fine with it by now.
The venue was smaller than Bakugo thought it would be, which made him thankful at first, but his gratitude quickly evaporated as they stepped into the auditorium. It was fucking packed. Like a bunch of fucking sardines. Bakugo immediately turned around to leave.
“Nope,” Uraraka grabbed the back of his shirt without hesitation, stopping him from moving at all. Bakugo grit his teeth so he didn’t turn and sock her in the jaw. “Calm down. Izuku has tickets for the front.”
Bakugo growled, shooting them both the nastiest glare he could muster as he ripped her gross puny hand from his T-shirt. “Like hell. I’m not going any closer.”
“It’s alright babe,” Deku said to Uraraka, placing his hand softly on her shoulder. “I’ll stay back here with you Kacchan.”
“I don’t want to stay back here. I want to fucking leave .”
Deku furrowed his brow in frustration. “Quit being a baby. It’s music . Plus, I already bought your ticket, so if you want to leave that badly I expect you to pay me back,” he snapped.
Bakugo narrowed his eyes at him before pouting at the ground and hunching his shoulders as low as they could go. He didn’t have enough fucking money to pay him back. Fuck.
“Whatever. I’m not going to the front,” he muttered. Deku smiled at him with a tilt of his head as Uraraka rolled her eyes.
“Fine then. You two boys have fun being grumpy in the back while I make friends with the cool kids up there,” Uraraka said before turning and wrapping her arms around Deku’s shoulders. “Kiss me before I go?”
Bakugo made a repulsive noise and turned away from the inevitable disgusting exchange of saliva that was occurring. Bakugo scowled at his shoes. Fucking disgusting.
Uraraka left, after way too fucking long. Deku smiled at Bakugo before turning and leading them silently into a less crowded corner of the room. At least he could always count on Deku to be quiet. At least he didn’t pester Bakugo to the point of a migraine. Not anymore, that is.
They stood there next to each other, thinking to themselves. The place moved around them like blood vessels, loud voices and laughter ringing through the growing crowd. This must be a popular fucking band, then. People in black outfits, the stagehands, slowly brought instruments onto the stage.
As people shifted around them, Bakugo, for some fucking reason, started thinking about Deku and Uraraka. He couldn’t stop thinking about them making out, hugging, cuddling on his fucking couch. Each thought that passed through his mind made him want to bend over and retch all over the floor.
Why did he feel so disgusted by the thought of that? What made people… want to do that shit? Bakugo furrowed his brow at the ground in thought. Originally, he thought about Uraraka in… that way… but only once or twice. The feeling had evaporated as soon as he introduced her to Deku. He’d never been infatuated with anyone before.
The opening band came out and started playing at some point. They were shit, big surprise. Bakugo barely listened to them, too lost in gross thoughts of his two friends making out and wondering why the fuck they would want to do it so much.
He glanced at Deku once, twice. He was watching the band with a small smile on his dumb face, bopping his head slightly to the beat. Bakugo hated him.
Ask him, his brain whispered. He’ll be honest with you. Obviously he would. Fuck. Just ask.
“Why do you like round face,” Bakugo said. Deku looked at him with wide eyes, but Bakugo kept his eyes on the ground.
Deku laughed lightly. Bakugo felt his throat closing up in anger. He hated that laugh. Why the fuck was he laughing? Give him a fucking break. He didn’t even need to ask. He didn’t want an answer in the first place-
“Call her by her name Kacchan. It’s been years,” Deku shouted over the crowd. His green eyes were filled with amusement.
Bakugo pouted pointedly away from Deku’s gaze. In the background, the music stopped and the stage began to shift to get ready for the main act.
“What do you mean though? You like her,” Deku said. Bakugo clenched his fists.
“I don’t. Not… like you. Like that,” he muttered.
“Oh. You mean romantically,” he said. Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek.
Deku turned back to the stage, shoving his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “I don’t know. She took my breath away from the first time I saw her. And the more we talked, the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to know everything about her. She was in my head from that first day. And she always believed in me, even when no one else did-“
“OKAY! Okay, fuck,” Bakugo interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I get it. Whatever.”
Deku nudged him with his shoulder and Bakugo shot him a death glare. The idiot was still looking at the stage. “Why do you ask,” Deku asked lightly.
“Fuck off.”
“Im serious. You don’t ask me anything unless it’s been under your skin forever.” The lights turned on, spotlights of red and pink, yellow and white. A hush fell across the crowd at the end of his sentence.
“I just don’t understand..” Bakugo started, but the stillness of the air, the smoke filling the stage and the anticipation that filled the room as silhouettes stepped onto the stage were too damn distracting.
“Understand how you can feel that way…” he continued. The band members stepped under each colored light, yellow, then pink, then red, white in the back.
“Towards another..” all of the colors faded to black except for the far right one, closest to them, a bright red.
“P-person…”
The red silhouette raised a hand and shot it down, and a low, loud bass chord rang through the auditorium. The lights came on and Bakugo forgot how to breathe.
All he could focus on was the guy’s huge, awful, bright red spiked hair.
Holy shit.
———————-
Who the fuck starts a song with a bass chord?
This shitty fucking band was who.
The crowd had erupted at the opening, screamed and lurched forwards when the rest of the lights came on and a girl with chocolate skin and pale pink hair belted out the first verse. The whole place started jumping and waving with the beat, moving like one entity.
Deku was singing, his body bobbing and swaying with it, but he stayed with Bakugo without complaint, hands in his pockets.
He didn’t really… see what the other band members looked like. Not really.
It’s not that he was attractive. He wasn’t. He had the most ridiculous hair Bakugo had ever seen, spiked in crimson on his head like a crown, and he barely looked up from his instrument long enough for Bakugo to catch a glimpse of his face. He was too enthralled with his own fingers moving across the strings, his shoulders hunched and his knees bent as he stepped and jumped with the music.
The song came to an end, and when the guy looked up into the lights properly for the first time, Bakugo felt all of the air leave his lungs again.
He wasn’t attractive.
Bakugo didn’t find his huge, bright eyes, smirk and strong features attractive.
Like hell.
“WHAT’S UP TOKYO,” the chick shouted into the microphone. The crowd cheered, and it shocked Bakugo out of his trance. His eyes snapped to her. She was pretty, but she had too much eye makeup. She looked like a fucking raccoon.
The girl kept talking, but Bakugo drug his gaze to the guy next to her, the guitarist. He had shaggy blond hair, and it looked blinding under the bright yellow spotlight. The guy in the back had long, straight black hair. The drummer. Even from far away, Bakugo could see his taped up fingers.
Yeah. The red guy was the most interesting to watch.
That was all.
They started playing again. You could barely hear the bass, the pink girl’s voice was so loud. Loud, but not bad . Bakugo…. just wanted to hear the bass more.
Each song was different, but they seemed to blur together. The red guy always looked the same, did the same moves. The chick sang every song, clearly the face of the band, but the yellow dude sang a little too. They weren’t bad.
It’s just. Bakugo couldn’t take his eyes off of that goddamn bassist .
“Who’s the red guy,” Bakugo shouted to Deku mindlessly. He heard himself ask, but couldn’t bring himself to stop before it was out.
Deku snapped to look at him quickly before looking back at the stage. Bakugo could practically hear the smile on his lips as he spoke. “The bassist? That’s Kirishima.”
Kirishima.
Gross ass name.
“You wanna meet him?”
Bakugo snapped to look at Deku immediately. Green eyes were pouring into his own with a weird mix of seriousness and humor.
“No.”
“Okay,” Deku chuckled, looking back to the stage with a smirk on his face. Bakugo wanted to punch him. A lot.
Bakugo avoided looking at Deku. He avoided looking at… Kirishima. He looked at the floor and his feet only.
What did Deku mean, meet him . He was in the fucking band. So unless he had like.. backstage passes or some shit-
“We have backstage tickets anyways. So you’re gonna meet him whether you like it or not,” Deku said casually.
Shit. Goddamn it. Fuck.
“I don’t have to go,” Bakugo growled, rage and embarrassment flooding through him. He made it feel more like anger than embarrassment.
“You’re right. You can always pay me back,” Deku smiled, head tilted innocently. Fucking asshole. Bakugo hated that smile, had his whole life and probably always would.
Bakugo grabbed the front of his shirt without a second thought, dragging Deku towards him and lifting his fist in the fabric threateningly. His eyes narrowed, glaring daggers into Deku’s amused ones. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what to do Deku,” he growled.
Deku shrugged, a smirk on his face and hands still in his pockets. This asshole was too cocky. It was like he didn’t even blink when Bakugo got mad at him anymore. Fuck.
“I’m not telling you what to do, Kacchan. I just know you can’t pay me back and I’m trying to get you to relax and have fun for once in your pretentious life.”
“You think you’re sooo smart,” Bakugo’s voice was low, rough. It hurt leaving his throat. He was losing control of his temper, and quickly. “Where do you get off? I don’t need you, you shitty fucking nerd-“
The music stopped and Bakugo was interrupted once again. “THIS ONE IS A SONG THAT OUR WONDERFUL BASSIST WROTE,” the chick shouted into the microphone.
Bakugo’s eye twitched and his grip loosened slightly, but he quickly recovered and went back to glaring at his shitty asshole of a friend. The green eyes staring back at him flashed with excitement, his stupid smirk climbing ever higher.
A man, probably Kirishima, started talking, but Bakugo pretended not to hear. He didn’t care what he was saying.
“Let go of me Kacchan,” Deku said, breaking their gaze and gently tearing Bakugo’s hand from his shirt. “I wanna watch.”
Bakugo wanted to fight. He wanted to rage and jump and scream, but he wasn’t. His body moved on it’s own, letting Deku take his hand away and turning back to the stage just as the bassist strummed low cords in quick succession.
It was soft, deep. It was something that rattled through Bakugo’s core, made his throat close up and his heart thud inside his chest. Kirishima’s head was hung lower than before. Bakugo furrowed his brow as his palms traitorously began to sweat at his sides. He shoved them into his pockets.
After a few chords, the guitar joined, and then drumsticks were being hit together in a count and the drums joined in too. It was a deep, eerie beat, threatening in a way that made your blood jump and your stomach twist. The guitar was the most dominant, loud and demanding.
No one sang for a while. The lead singer was dancing, swinging her head and jumping with the mic held loosely in her small hand. Each member was getting lost in what they were doing, moving as the entire place seemed to find the same heartbeat.
And then they started singing. It was just the girl at first, but soon guitar guy joined in and they harmonized in falsetto. It was creepy, dangerous. It made Bakugo’s stomach fill with butterflies.
His eyes drug to Kirishima, locked onto his hanging head and his dark body. He looked daunting. Bakugo swallowed thickly. He suddenly felt too hot, it was too warm in here.
Bakugo’s eyes wandered lower against his will. Kirishima was wearing a loose black tank top with rough red lettering across the front that Bakugo couldn’t read from this far away. His shoulders were broad, and he could tell he was built even from the back of the auditorium. His jeans were black, tight fitting and ripped at the knees. He had a red and black flannel tied loosely around his waist.
Bakugo didn’t think it was hot. They were just clothes.
The song continued, the chorus was a low, slow descent that made your hair stand on end. Kirishima really wrote this? Bakugo wasn’t listening to the words, but the music and vibrations alone were enough to make him wonder what kind of person this dude was. He must be…
Dangerous.
Bakugo tore his eyes away and shook his head. Fuck. That’s fucking dumb. Just because someone wrote some eerie music it doesn’t make them a scary person.
Bakugo didn’t care who he was anyways. Dangerous or not.
The rest of the set passed in a blur. Bakugo kept his fists clenched in his jeans, kept his eyes anywhere and everywhere but the shithead with red hair.
The lead singer had a good voice. And was a good dancer. She was entertaining enough. They sang a song about a murder, about a breakup, about a broken home. Bakugo barely paid attention. Deku was practically radiating smugness.
“GOODNIGHT LOVES. YOU WERE WONDERFUL,” pink hair shouted before standing on top of a speaker and blowing kisses towards the audience. Bakugo watched with wide eyes as Kirishima stood up straight and gracefully slung his bass up and over his shoulder so it hung on his back.
Bakugo’s heart thudded loudly in his ear.
Fuck this. Nope. He didn’t like that, he didn’t like feeling like this.
Bakugo turned and walked out of the auditorium, out of the theater and into the chill fall air before Deku even had a chance to open his stupid mouth.
As the night hit his face, he took a deep, much needed breath and let his eyes fall shut. Fuck , he thought to himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he feel so weird, and shaky and giddy? Why the actual fuck did he feel so out of control?
People started filing out of the front doors, heading to their cars or public transport. Some of them were drunk, falling all over the place, some were high, but all of them had smiles on their dumb faces. Content.
Bakugo stood against the brick wall on one side of the door, leaning his back against it with his hands in his pockets and one leg curled up. He focused on breathing, calming himself down. Breathe in, breath out.
This was why he didn’t do concerts. They were suffocating. He didn’t feel like himself when he lost control, and who doesn’t like feeling like themselves?
“There you are,” Uraraka said, coming around the corner with Deku in tow. Bakugo glared at the both of them.
“How’s the brooding going,” she asked with a smile. Bakugo flipped her off. Deku chuckled.
Bakugo pushed himself off the wall with his foot, hands slamming together in a wordless threat. She narrowed her eyes at him and stood up straight. Just as he got within arm distance, Deku stepped between them.“Come on guys. I wanna go say hi now,” he smiled.
Bakugo stuck out his lip, narrowed his eyes at his friends as they all stood looking at each other. Uraraka sighed.
“Alright. You’re coming Katsuki,” she said, grabbing both of them by their collars and leading them back inside. Bakugo growled, but let himself be dragged along. He was too tired to argue, to fight. It was slowly dawning on him that the more he resisted this, the longer he would be here.
He just wanted to go home.
“How’d the fuck you get backstage passes, Deku? Who’d give a shitty nerd like you cool things,” Bakugo said. Uraraka let go of his shirt so he could trail behind them at his own pace.
Deku laughed, wrapping an arm around Uraraka’s waist and smiling at him over his shoulder. “The bassist and I met on the train. He’s a really cool guy.”
On the train? Who the fuck talks to another human on the fucking train. Other than Deku, that is.
They walked back into the theater, and then through a door by the stage guarded by a man who took three tickets from Uraraka and let them through.
Wait. Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek. Deku met the bassist… which meant… he was friends with the bassist. Fuck.
They walked up through some stairs, through a small hall and towards the only open door. Voices and laughter were ringing through it, yellow light pouring against the opposite wall.
As they entered, a familiar sounding girl screamed.
“You GUYYYSSS”
Her voice was just as loud as it was on stage. Bakugo winced against the noise, turning his head down against the bright light of the room. As they stepped inside Bakugo took a look around. It was small, but there were two couches against the far wall, a long table of catered food and instruments lining the wall next to them. It looked like a typical green room. The chick from the band was standing in the center of the room, hands on her hips yelling at three boys sitting on the couch. She was blocking the one in the middle but Bakugo could pick out the guitarist and drummer.
Suddenly she snapped around to look at the three of them standing awkwardly in the doorway and her face lit up. Bakugo looked away as she screamed.
“Kiri, KIRRIII,” the lead singer shouted, suddenly in their faces and shaking Midoriya's shoulders back and forth aggressively. “Look! Your new BFF came to see us!”
Deku laughed, bright and loud as she dragged him and Uraraka further into the room. Bakugo clicked his tongue, side stepping and dodging her grasp so he could hunch by the door.
The girl smiled brightly, grabbing Deku and pulling him into a tight hug. She pulled back and beamed at him, then did the same to Uraraka. She was pretty up close, just as attention grabbing as she was from the back of a packed theater. Her skin was smooth and seemed to glow, her pale pink hair was in waves that ended just below her chin. Bakugo narrowed his eyes at her. Girls like that shouldn’t wear so much fucking makeup you can’t see their eye color.
“I’m Ashido Mina, but you guys can just call me Mina,” she sang happily. “This is Kaminari, and Sero,” she pointed to the drummer and guitarist on the couch across the room, both on their phones with beers in their hands.
“Hey,” both of them deadpanned simultaneously. Bakugo fought not to roll his eyes, but lost.
“And you already know this goof,” her hand was buried and ruffling through bright red hair as a man came up next to her. Bakugo averted his eyes immediately.
“Midoriya!! Dude! You came,” a voice rang cheerfully through the room and Bakugo heard Deku laugh and then choke as if he was being squeezed too hard. “It’s so nice to see you. Oh, and you must be the girlfriend,” the voice said.
“Uraraka!! It’s so nice to meet you. You guys were amazing,” Uraraka smiled. Bakugo rolled his eyes.
“Who’s that?” The singer chick asked. Bakugo froze up, looking down to the side as he knew all eyes were turning towards him. Fuck.
Deku chuckled lightly, nervously, and Bakugo raised his narrowed gaze to the group to find him rubbing the back of his head nervously. Uraraka was glaring at him disappointedly. “T-that’s Kacchan. He’s my… friend.” Bakugo scowled back at the floor.
“ Bakugo . Izuku just calls him that since they grew up together. HEY,” Uraraka yelled at him and he flinched, one eye squeezing shut. “Quit being a fucking grump and get over here blasty.”
Bakugo made a low noise in his throat but reluctantly pushed forwards and walked over to the four people in the middle of the room, standing next to Uraraka and Mina. When he looked up, Uraraka patted his shoulder patronizingly. He shoved her off.
“Hi,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Wow,” the chick chuckled half-heartedly. “Aren’t you fun. How are you friends with Midoriya?”
“Don’t ask,” Uraraka groaned.
“Whatever. Hi, nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand to him. Bakugo glared at it, keeping his hands deep in his jeans. She laughed. “I’m Mina, those slackers on the couch are unimportant-“
“MINA-“ the yellow one shouted.
“And this,” she slung an arm around broad shoulders, “is Kirishima.”
Bakugo took everything he thought in the auditorium back. This guy wasn't attractive.
He was gorgeous.
Wide, fucking HUGE red eyes blinked at him, once, twice. His nose was small, cheeks rounded and mouth slightly open. His skin looked soft. He.. had a small scar peeking from the corner of his left eye. Badass, Bakugo thought.
Kirishima didn’t say anything, just stood there with wide eyes and a shocked expression. Bakugo glared at him. Mina punched his arm and his body tilted to the right. “Kiri?”
No reaction. She tried again. “Kirishima,” louder this time. He snapped back to reality, his face erupting into an embarrassed blush, almost the same color as his hair. Mina giggled.
“H-hi! I’m Kiri-K-Kirishima,” he stuttered out. Everyone was laughing at him, but his eyes stayed locked to Bakugo’s.
Bakugo turned his gaze away but lifted his chin towards him in a greeting.
It was silent. The air was suffocatingly awkward and tense. Bakugo hated this. He wanted to leave again.
“Aaaanyways,” Mina broke the tension with two hands on Kirishima’s shoulders. “Midoriya, Kiri tells me you’re quite the sweet talker on the subway.”
“Haha! No no, not really, I just..” Deku launched into the story of how the two of them met. Bakugo tuned out pretty much immediately, ignoring Uraraka’s glare as he walked away to stand next to the door again and took out his phone.
He responded to a few emails, some co-workers asking where he placed this or that. Fucking idiots, all of them.
“S-so um,” a voice said, interrupting him from typing. He froze, lifted his gaze barely to look down at some red high top sneakers. Red, huh? Damn it.
Bakugo went back to typing. Best not to engage.
“What’s-“
Bakugo sighed, exhaustedly turning his gaze to the face he didn’t want to see. “What do you want,” he snapped.
Kirishima was standing in front of him with his shoulders drawn together, hands fiddling in front of his stomach with the sleeves of his flannel, and at first his face was twisted in confusion and surprise but then immediately relaxed into a smile. Bakugo glared as hard as he could. He was really pretty. Built. His shirt says Crimson, he noticed.
“Haha,” Kirishima’s face smile widened at Bakugo’s glare, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. His cheeks tinted pink as his eyes squeezed shut. UGH. Bakugo looked away.
“Sorry man. You just looked like you weren’t having fun” Kirishima said lightly. Bakugo narrowed his eyes at him.
“And why do you care if I’m having fun or not, shitty hair,” he growled. Kirishima blinked at him. Fuck. His eyes were so pretty. Were guys allowed to have eyes like that?
A bright, impossibly loud laugh erupted from Kirishima’s chest as he squeezed his eyes shut before looking at Bakugo with amusement shimmering in his eyes. “Shitty hair?”
“You heard me,” Bakugo muttered. He looked back at his phone. He was too bright. Maybe if Bakugo looked away he wouldn’t go blind.
Kirishima chuckled lightly and Bakugo tried not to think about the way his heart stuttered in his chest at the sound. “I just don’t like when people don’t have fun at my show is all,” he said.
Bakugo snapped to look at him, their eyes locking immediately. Was this really the same guy who played the bass guitar on that stage? The dangerous silhouette who stood bathed in red light, playing a song that made Bakugo feel like he wanted to lose himself?? No, fuck no. This guy was bright, happy and personable. The contrast was making his head spin off his damn neck.
Fuck. Kirishima smiled at him bigger when he didn’t speak, his head tilting slightly to the left innocently. Bakugo suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Shit, fuck. Fuck this.
Bakugo pinched his lips, eyes wide as he shoved his phone angrily into his pocket. Kirishima held eye contact, amused, and Bakugo felt his throat tighten at the tension between them. He needed to leave.
“B-bath- I’ve gotta fuckin piss,” he stumbled out, feeling an awful flush cross his face as he turned quickly to stomp through the door.
He shoved his hands in his pockets as he got to the hallway, walked fast and with purpose all the way back down the stairs, through the VIP entrance, through the auditorium, the lobby, all the way until he could feel the air on his face.
He sat down on a bench. It was cold but he didn’t mind, it felt good against his burning skin. Bakugo looked up at the sky. He couldn’t see shit because of the city but the idea that something was out there grounded him. Turning to the sky… always grounded him.
Deep breaths. He counted to ten as he inhaled and exhaled, tried to calm his racing heart. Why was his heart so chaotic right now?? There’s no way it could have been from talking to that red-haired idiot. They barely spoke. Bakugo closed his eyes.
Who the fuck was he kidding. That was it. Talking to Kirishima had made him feel all fuckin dizzy and… weird. He didn’t seem to be put off by Bakugo’s grumpiness in the slightest. It was almost like he found it… endearing?? Fuck.
What the fuck was that about?
Bakugo furrowed his brow, looked down at his hands, fisted on his lap. This was weird. He didn’t think he was gay, didn’t think he was anything really. The only person he’d ever thought of romantically was Uraraka, one night a long time ago when she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. But this??
This was… blinding.
Eventually Deku and Uraraka came down, and silently all three of them walked back to the train together. They didn’t talk to him, or each other. It felt like they were scared of him, of what he might say if they had tried to press. And they should have been scared.
They came with him back to his apartment. He took out the key to his building without a word before turning to them with a nod of his head. They were both staring at him softly and he wanted to punch both of them in the face.
“Goodnight then, Kacchan,” Deku said with a soft smile. Bakugo scoffed at him, turning the key and opening the door to step into the lobby.
“Call us if you need to tal-“
The door shut behind him, cutting off Uraraka’s voice. He took another breath before riding the elevator up to his floor, opening the door to his apartment and passing out immediately after flopping onto his couch.