FBO

by Falahime

Summary:

“I was just thinking about spending the rest of our lives together.”

Kirishima coughed violently, hopefully choking on his own spit and not pieces of eraser. “W-what brought that up?” His face was almost as red as his hair. “And how can you say that so casually?!”

“Well, you’re the one that said forming a hero team is the same as a proposal. You seemed pretty fucking excited about it, if I recall.”

“Well, yeah,” Kirishima sputtered. “B-but you can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere! And you should only propose if you mean it. You can’t just throw it out there in passing! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you have to do it properly!”

“So as long as I ask properly it’s okay?” Bakugo smirked. “Kirishima Eijiro, will you—”

Kirishima clapped his hand over Bakugo’s mouth, face suddenly white. “Don’t you dare say it!”

Chapter 1

“All Might’s so cool!” Kirishima’s eyes sparkled as they watched the documentary. “Never really thought about it until, uh, now...” Kirishima glanced at Bakugo. “But ‘Toshi’? ‘Dave’? Those two must’ve been pretty close, huh? Or is it just an American thing?”

“Maybe focus on the task at hand instead of letting your imagination run wild about David Shield and All Might.” Bakugo sprawled on the couch, his feet resting on Kirishima’s lap. 

“Hey, that’s not what—! I wasn’t running wild!” Kirishima whacked Bakugo’s leg with the small notepad in his hand. “Still, you didn’t really answer the question.” He poked the ball of Bakugo’s foot with the pencil eraser.

“Wasn’t that just in your fucking mouth?” He made a show of wiping his foot on Kirishima’s thigh.

“It’s fine! As long as I don’t forget and start chewing on it again.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “More writing with the pencil and less trying to eat it. And enough gabbing about All Might and David Shield having crushes on each other.”

“So you did notice that was weird.” Kirishima tapped the pencil against his lower lip. Dumbass is gonna forget and start chewing on it again. He can’t help it. “Well, not weird-weird. More like, interesting-weird. Like...maybe now-I-look-at-things-a-little-differently-weird.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it—you’re a fucking weirdo.” Bakugo knew what Kirishima was actually getting at but it was embarrassing and they had more important shit to do. And, really, Kirishima was a weirdo. 

“Well, that says something about your taste then, doesn’t it? You must love weirdos.” Kirishima grinned. “Still...” He looked down at his notepad. “Why did you ask me to do this? You’re the smart one.”

Bakugo shrugged. “I am the smart one.” He ignored Kirishima’s snort. “But naming shit isn’t really my thing. You seem to enjoy it.”

“Mmm,” Kirishima hummed in agreement, distractedly gnawing on the metal around the eraser of the pencil. “Yeahhh...your names are a little, uh...a little ‘too Bakugo.’” 

“So?” Bakugo settled in more comfortably on the couch. “Whaddya got?” 

“Red Ground? Red Dawn? Unbreakable Ground? Red Zero? Red Zed?”

“Why is your name always first?” Bakugo growled. 

“Because it’s the description! Explosion Riot? Ground Unbreakable? Zero Riot?” Kirishima scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Gah, this is really hard! We’re such a great team, why is it so hard to come up with a team name?”

“Maybe we should just be ourselves,” Bakugo pondered aloud. “Together. We can do that, right? And it’s kind of our style anyway.”

“Be ourselves together,” Kirishima repeated with a small smile. 

“What the fuck are you blushing for?”

“You’re blushing too!” Kirishima protested. 

“Because you started it! It’s like fucking contagious or something!” 

“I can’t help it! Sometimes I just look at you and it makes me super happy—”

“Fucking shut up,” Bakugo groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You’re so embarrassing.” He peered through his fingers at Kirishima. They’d spent years together, first in high school and then as pro heroes; as classmates then friends and now as...something else. They’d been together through the struggles, the drama, the laughs, the failures, the fights, the growth, and the victories. Together through the tests, the late nights, the scrambling, the insecurities, the tears, the training, the teasing. He enjoyed looking at Kirishima, even if he didn’t want to admit it; but whenever he allowed himself to really look, all of the memories and experiences and emotions threatened to overwhelm him. One emotion in particular. 

He’d been the one, in the beginning when Kirishima had seemed to be uncertain, to say that nothing really needed to change. That what they had just worked, and worked well, and just because they were now acknowledging feelings that had been there...however long...nothing really needed to be different. And for Kirishima, lovable idiot that he was, that apparently was all he needed to hear. He seemed perfectly at ease after that. Like everything was so fucking simple.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s always been comfortable around people. Comfortable around me, which most people find impossible. And he’s always said embarrassing honest shit and been way too fucking touchy-feely—now he just does it more. Bakugo glanced from Kirishima’s bright smile down to where his hand wrapped around one of the feet Bakugo still had across his thighs, thumb rubbing little circles up the arch. This shit is fucking automatic with him. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“Uh, Bakugo..?”

Bakugo had been praised for his talent (if not for his personality) most of his life. He was naturally good at a lot of things, and that’s the way he liked it. But he’d never dreamed he’d have to be good at relationships.

That said, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. And if he was going to do this, he would be the best. 

Besides, he thought, watching Kirishima absentmindedly gnawing on the pencil in his right hand while he massaged Bakugo’s arch with his left, this dumbass deserves the best.

“I was just thinking about spending the rest of our lives together.”

Kirishima coughed violently, hopefully choking on his own spit and not pieces of eraser. “W-what brought that up?” His face was almost as red as his hair. “And how can you say that so casually?!”

“Well, you’re the one that said forming a hero team is the same as a proposal. You seemed pretty fucking excited about it, if I recall.”

“Well, yeah,” Kirishima sputtered. “B-but you can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere! And you should only propose if you mean it. You can’t just throw it out there in passing! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you have to do it properly!”

“So as long as I ask properly it’s okay?” Bakugo smirked. “Kirishima Eijiro, will you—”

Kirishima clapped his hand over Bakugo’s mouth, face suddenly white. “Don’t you dare say it!”

Bakugo raised his eyebrows. “You just said you wanted me to say it properly,” he said, words muffled under Kirishima’s palm.

“This isn’t ‘properly’! There’s a manly order to these things! It’s supposed to be special, not just something you throw out there when we’re lounging on the couch in ratty old tank tops and sweatpants!” Kirishima sighed. “Yes, I really really want to hear it and—stop licking my hand!” Bakugo grinned against his palm. “I wanted to hear it but what I really want is to say it to you. You got to confess first so...please? Let me do this?”

Kirishima hesitantly removed his hand from Bakugo’s face and Bakugo shrugged. “If that’s what makes you happy. Go for it.”

Kirishima grinned, trailing his fingers down Bakugo’s sculpted arm and giving his fingers a light squeeze. “Thanks. It’s really important to me. I want it to be special.” 

They gave up on team names and proposals for the evening, settling in to their comfortable pattern of movie night, starting the documentary over at the beginning. Explosions provided backdrop to All Might’s booming laugh. Bakugo glanced at Kirishima, who was unusually quiet and not doing a very good job of hiding the fact he was paying more attention to him than to the screen. 

“Whatever you’re worrying about now, stop.”

Kirishima chewed his bottom lip. “Hey...when I do ask...uh, you will say ‘yes’, right?”

Bakugo shrugged slightly, trying to look nonchalant. “Guess we’ll have to find out.” 

“Whaa-? Bakugoooo,” Kirishima pouted, leaning over and resting his head on Bakugo’s hip.

“Wouldn’t have my head there if I were you.”

“Why not?” Kirishima asked, nuzzling into Bakugo’s waist.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiip

“Oh my god! King Explosion Murder indeed!” Kirishima shot up, dumping Bakugo from the couch in the process, and waved a hand in front of his contorted face. “That’s it! This always happens! No more spicy ramen for you! Gah!”

It was for the best that Kirishima had pushed him off the couch because he was laughing so hard he would’ve fallen off anyway. Eventually Bakugo quit laughing and regained his composure. Still lying on the floor, he wiped the tears from his eyes and held out his arms. “C’mere.”

“Don’t you ‘c’mere,’ me! You just farted in my face!” 

“I told you not to put your head down there. I tried to warn you.” Bakugo did his best to look serious and not burst out laughing again. 

“See if I try snuggling with you again! You are on snuggle probation.” Kirishima sulked, pointedly ignoring Bakugo’s outstretched arms. 

Pretty sure that will last five minutes, tops. “Kirishima.” His voice was low and serious. “Move in with me.”

“What?!” Kirishima looked skeptical. “Are you just saying that to get off probation?”

“Dumbass,” Bakugo rolled his eyes. “You’re always here anyway. This house is plenty big enough for both of us. Your place is tiny and it’s falling apart. The shower tiles have fucking cracks for fuck’s sake! Just...I have the space. Half of my closet is full of your shit. You might as well just live here.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then grinned slyly as something new came to mind. “I dunno...I like my little dumpy place. And this place is all you. I guess...maybe if I had something of mine here too...like my couch.”

Bakugo groaned. “That shitty ugly couch? Really?”

“You know I love it! I just don’t think I could move without it.” 

Bakugo sighed heavily, pretending to be anguished. It really didn’t matter that much—actually, he wanted Kirishima to have something of his in their home, even if it was that testament to Kirishima’s hideous design sense—but if he just gave in immediately it wouldn’t be fun. Without looking, he raised his hand and blasted the couch next to him, destroying it with three small, tidy explosions. Kirishima’s eyes widened in surprise.

As deadpan as he could manage, Bakugo said, “I needed to replace this anyway. Smells like farts.”

They both burst out laughing and Kirishima joined him on the floor, grabbing a surprisingly intact pillow blown from the very not-intact couch, settling in to finish the documentary.

 

 

“Kirishimaaaa! Congratulations!” Ashido waved enthusiastically.

Kirishima hurried up to her, cringing at the curious looks of other people on the street. “Shh! Not so loud!” He felt a slight wave of panic at the expectant faces of Uraraka, Jiro, and Yaoyorozu. “Did-did you really have to bring everyone?”

“Well, yeah.” Ashido grinned.

“Sorry, Kirishima-kun!” Uraraka apologized. “But when Mina-chan mentioned it, I begged to come along. It’s just so romantic and even though it’s not for me, it might be my only chance to go ring shopping. And it’s just so romantic!” she emphasized.

“I didn’t mean to intrude either,” Yaoyorozu said awkwardly. “When Jiro-san told me what she was doing today, I just really wanted to help! I’m very familiar with jewelry and all the best stores. I, um...I guess it was presumptuous of me.”

“It’s...” Kirishima managed a weak smile. “It’s fine! The more the merrier! And I definitely can use whatever help I can get!” 

“Yay!” Ashido exclaimed with a fist pumped to the air. The other girls joined. “Yay!”

“But, um, we need to kinda keep this quiet, okay?” Kirishima begged. 

“That might be kind of difficult with five well-known pro heroes together,” Jiro pointed out.

“It’ll be okay!” Uraraka promised. “People don’t recognize me out of uniform half the time anyway. Maybe they won’t notice!”

Kirishima was pretty sure that his bright red hair and Ashido’s pink skin were pretty noticeable whether they were in uniform or not but he couldn’t bring himself to say so. “You’re right. Well, let’s get to ring shopping. Thank you in advance!”

The girls did a collective “Woo!” and Kirishima was absolutely certain that any hopes of doing this discreetly were history.

 

Kirishima flopped face-down on their red couch and heaved an exhausted sigh. He always thought of himself as a people-person but spending the day shopping with the girls was more draining than he ever imagined. The shopping in itself would have been stressful enough—his head was still swimming with tungsten and titanium and zirconium and meteorite and adamantium and a million other materials—but the girls and their questions were a whole other level.

I can’t believe I actually thought it’d be fun. Then again, I thought it would be more like casual conversation and less like sharks smelling blood in the water.

The girls had been merciless with their questions. He went to school with them, he should’ve known they wouldn’t pull any punches. I forgot the girls were the most ruthless of all of us! 

“Hey hey, Kirishima, who proposed to who?” Ashido asked.

“Uh, well, neither. Yet. Um, really. But, uh, I want to be the one asking him.”

“Kyah, so romantic!” Uraraka exclaimed for about the fiftieth time so far.

“What? So you don’t even know if he’ll say yes?” Jiro frowned. 

“Well, I guess...I mean, I’m pretty sure he...” Kirishima faltered.

“I’d always thought you had this beautiful fairy tale romance!” Uraraka admitted. “I thought after the cavalry battle our first year he probably said, ‘Heh, we make a good team. Promise me you’ll always be my partner.’ Or maybe after, uh, Kamino you said, ‘I couldn’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. Stay by my side. Forever.’ Or maybe after the yakuza raid when he found out how hurt you’d been, he said, ‘Don’t ever do that again! ...Unless I’m there to watch over you.’” 

“You’ve certainly spent a lot of time thinking about this,” Kirishima croaked. “A lot.”

“How creative!” Yaoyorozu clapped her hands together happily. 

“When was your first kiss?” Ashido grinned. “I bet it was after a hot and heavy sparring session and things just got out of control! The overwhelming power of sweaty muscles!” 

“Ooh, a fated battle between men!” Uraraka squealed.

“Maybe during those study sessions when you two were hunkered down, off by yourselves?” Jiro offered. 

“So who kissed whom first?” Yaoyorozu’s eyes twinkled in anticipation, obviously enjoying being part of “girl talk.”

“Bakugo kissed Kirishima,” the other three girls said in unison.

“What makes you think that?!” Kirishima protested weakly. 

“He has to be first at everything,” Uraraka said matter-of-factly.

“He seems like more of a go-getter,” Jiro pointed out.

“Bakugo-san is very ‘take charge,’” Yaoyorozu nodded.

“And—you’re my friend, so don’t take this the wrong way, Kirishima—you can be pretty dense-” Ashido sighed.

“I don’t want to hear that from you!”

“-so he definitely had to take the initiative and kiss you first.”

Kirishima frowned. That wasn’t how it happened at all and part of him wanted to correct them, just to set the record straight. But the bigger part of him just wanted to stop talking about this altogether. 

Ashido’s brow furrowed in concentration. “However...Bakugo’s too forceful and domineering, I just can’t picture him being very good in bed.”

“Then don’t!” Kirishima choked. “Don’t picture anything!”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Uraraka tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. “He’s obsessed with being the best at everything. I bet he would even have to be the best at that.”

“Why are we talking about this?” Kirishima protested, silently praying that the store clerks couldn’t hear or weren’t paying attention. He risked a glance and one just gave him an apologetic smile while the other didn’t even bother hiding a Cheshire Cat grin. Kirishima cringed and wondered if it was possible to actually die from embarrassment.

“But if he’s just doing it to be good at it, is it really that enjoyable?” Jiro mused.

Yaoyorozu nodded. “I agree with Jiro-san; making it a competition to see whose best doesn’t sound, um, ‘romantic’ at all.”

It was like the girls had just remembered he was actually there, all of them turning to stare at him as if they actually expected some sort of answer, and Kirishima hoped against hope for any possible distraction at that moment. So he was actually relieved when—

“Hey. You gonna quit making out with the couch long enough to eat?” Bakugo barked, emphasizing his point with the loud thunk of a plate on the table.

Kirishima sighed again, sitting up and making room for Bakugo to sit next to him on the couch. He couldn’t repress a tiny smile: he was here, in their house, living together with Bakugo, eating dinner that Bakugo cooked for him, and it was all just so normal and domestic and perfect and he didn’t know if it would ever be so routine that it didn’t make him smile every single time...but he hoped it never would. He wanted to feel this happy forever. 

“Oi. It’s kinda creepy when you just sit there smiling to yourself like a nerd.”

“I was just thinking—” Kirishima glanced over at him, assuming Bakugo would be looking ahead at the tv screen, not staring back expectantly. For a moment he just went blank, the thought, Man, he’s beautiful overwhelming everything else. But when Bakugo smirked and Kirishima’s gaze flickered to his lips, the memory of the girls speculating about their...private...life flooded his mind and heat overtook his face. “I, um, I was just thinking I’m glad to be home.” He sighed again at the memory. “It was an exhausting day.”

“Oh?” Bakugo asked with a raised eyebrow. “But you looked like you were having so much fun on your day out with the girls.”

Kirishima panicked and almost choked on his curry. “What? How did you know?”

“C’mon,” Bakugo rolled his eyes. “You really think I’m fucking stupid? Or blind?” He tossed his phone at Kirishima, the browser open to one of the many news sites: 

The Unluckiest Villain Ever? 
Villain’s debut criminal act at a jewelry store...with five pro heroes inside! 
Complete with a picture of the villain in question, restrained and surrounded by Uraraka, Jiro, Yaoyorozu, and Ashido, with Kirishima doing his best to look inconspicuous behind them. Which obviously didn’t work. 

Kirishima groaned and set Bakugo’s phone on the table. He didn’t even know how to respond, so he just kept eating and didn’t say anything. 

“So,” Bakugo said after a few minutes. “You find what you were looking for?”

“Huh?”

“At the jeweler’s.”

Kirishima shrugged. “W-what makes you think we were there for me? Maybe the girls were shopping and asked me to come because they wanted my opinion.” He glanced at Bakugo who simply gave him a very obvious No fucking way that’s true look. “Fine,” Kirishima grumbled. “No, I didn’t.”

“You gonna go back?”

“Mm, eventually. But not with them! Those girls were fuckin’ brutal.” Bakugo burst out laughing and Kirishima couldn’t help but laugh too.

 

Later, Kirishima was in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the day. Who knew the girls had such crazy imaginations. They sure don’t have much confidence in me, do they? Is that what we look like to them? But they’re still going off of how we were in high school. We’ve both changed. I think. We’re even better. Right? He looked over at Bakugo, sleeping peacefully, and couldn’t suppress a goofy smile. Oh well. Let them think what they want. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. 

“Hey, asshole, the sound of your thinking is keeping me awake,” Bakugo grumbled, eyes still closed.

“But you’re asleep!”

“Obviously fucking not.” Bakugo cracked open an eye. “What’s the fucking problem?”

“Nothing.” Kirishima smiled before rolling over on his side and kissing Bakugo’s temple. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

“Ugh.” Bakugo scrunched up his face in disgust and pulled the blanket up, leaving just his glaring eyes exposed. “Keep that shit up and you’re sleeping on the couch. So fucking embarrassing.” He pulled the blanket over his head for emphasis.

 

“And why are we here, again?” Bakugo asked, grimacing at the crowds and the kids and the noise and the offensive smells and the kids and the heat and the bright colors and the kids...

“C’mon, it’s been ages since we’ve just gone out for the day. Don’t be so grouchy.” Kirishima nudged him with an elbow. “Besides, it’s been months and we still haven’t thought up a team name. Maybe this will give us some inspiration!”

“From a fucking zoo? What kind of inspiration is that?” He glowered at Kirishima, whose permasmile faltered for an almost imperceptible instant. Which put Bakugo in an even worse mood; for all that he couldn’t understand how Kirishima could smile all the fucking time he didn’t want to be the cause of him losing that smile. Ever. He took a deep breath to attempt to regain his composure—and regretted it immediately, the combination of fried food and large animals assaulting his nose. “Fine. Let’s...do whatever people do at the zoo.”

A genuine grin spread across Kirishima’s face. “Alright! Zoo date, let’s go!” 

Zoo date. I fucking knew it. Bakugo resigned himself to most of a day spent around noise and stink and all the fucking kids.

“Bakugo, look, the giraffe is so tall!”

“Did you know, Bakugo, the hippo looks lazy, but they’re actually super dangerous!”

“I just love otters, don’t you, Bakugo? They look so happy!”

“What’s that thing?” Bakugo asked. “It looks mean as hell.”

“Oh, it’s a honey badger.” Kirishima chuckled. “They kind of remind me of you. Pretty much angry all the time but everything else is afraid of them because they’re super tough. They can stand up to, like, anything! It’s like they’re indestructible!”

That last part sounds more like you than me. “Yeah, well...” they continued walking. Bakugo pointed to an enclosure. “That’s what you remind me of.”

“A panda?” Kirishima laughed. “Why, because we’re both popular and lovable?”

“No. Because of...” Bakugo waited as the panda on its platform went to slide down the slide...and instead fell off the edge, landing awkwardly with a plop on its head. But then it simply rolled over and sat on its butt, looking as content as a panda could probably be. “...that.”

Kirishima frowned and pretended to think. “So you’re saying I’m...adorable and resilient?”

Bakugo burst out laughing, smiling for the first time since they arrived at the zoo hours ago. Kirishima grinned back and opened his mouth to say something—

“Wed Wiot!” a small voice exclaimed. Bakugo instinctively caught the kid by the arm before he could barrel into Kirishima’s legs. Whether it was to protect a kid from hurting himself by running into a rock-solid Kirishima or to protect Kirishima from a tiny villain disguised as a child, Bakugo didn’t really know; his reflexes just took over. However, somewhat to Bakugo’s disappointment, it was just an authentic small child, no more villainous than any other, simply excited to see a famous hero.

Even though Bakugo released the tiny arm right away, the kid stared up at him, his excitement and awe turning into something closer to shock and fear, his bottom lip starting to quiver.

Kirishima immediately donned his hero-consoling-a-child-smile. “There there!” He crouched down and patted the kid on the arm. “It’s okay!”

“Wed Wiot...” the kid sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” a young woman ran up to them, breathing heavily.  “He- he just—”

“It’s dangerous to just let him run around, lady!” Bakugo snapped. She looked at him as if he’d slapped her and he didn’t have to look down where Kirishima was still crouched with the brat to know he was getting a very disapproving glare. 

“Hey!” Kirishima reprimanded him. He looked at the woman, on the verge of tears like her son just moments ago. “It’s okay,” he reassured her.

“It’s just, you’re his favorite hero. I’m sure he saw your hair and just ran for it. I’d barely looked away and he was gone—”

“Aw, I’m your favorite?” Kirishima asked with a grin. 

The little kid nodded eagerly. “Wed Wiot!”

“Alright then,” Kirishima leaned in. “You gotta listen to your favorite hero,” he said in a stage whisper. The kid’s eyes were wide and he hung on every word. “You can’t go running off and leaving your mom like that. It can be dangerous, okay? You gotta listen to what she says. Heroes don’t cause trouble for others.” 

You cause trouble for me all the fucking time. Bakugo stood with his arms folded across his chest, suitably reprimanded and definitely not pouting. The little kid was rapt with attention at Kirishima’s fairly generic super special words of wisdom, which was understandable. Running into your favorite hero, even in normal clothes, was a big deal. Bakugo was far more surprised at how, uh, intently the brat’s mom was staring at Kirishima. 

“So be a good hero and listen to your mom, okay?” Kirishima asked with emphasized seriousness.

“Okay, Wed Wiot!” the kid grinned, turning and hugging his mom’s leg through her skirt. He looked up at her, beaming. “I’m a good hewo, mom!”

“Y-yes, be a good hero like Red Riot,” she said, patting his face. She looked back at Kirishima, smiling coyly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “T-thank you, Red Riot,” she said breathily. A delicate blush dusted her cheeks. 

Are you really fucking serious right now? Why don’t you just bat your fucking eyelashes at him while you’re at it, to make it completely fucking obvious? Bakugo’s eyes shot to Kirishima. Do not fucking blush right now, motherfucker, or I will punch you, I swear.

To Kirishima’s credit, he didn’t blush but just blinked a couple times in confusion and settled on his generic hero smile. “You’re welcome! Have fun and be safe!” He gave a little wave, but instead of leaving, the young mother actually took another step toward him. 

“Um, Red Riot, if you don’t mind-”

“I’m leaving,” Bakugo announced. “I’ve had enough animals in heat for one day.” He turned and walked off, hearing the indignant squawk and sputter of the woman behind him. Yeah, that one is gonna probably drop my hero ranking. Again. But what-fucking-ever. 

He hadn’t gotten far before Kirishima caught up to him. They walked in silence for a moment before Bakugo risked a glance. 

“That was realllllly hero-like, dude,” Kirishima said, trying to keep a straight face. “She was just thanking me for humoring her kid—”

“She looked like she was gonna start humping your leg any minute.”

“Oh she was not!” Kirishima hissed. “She was just being nice—”

“Really? Eyefucking you is being ‘nice’?”

Kirishima looked at Bakugo incredulously. “Eye-fu...” Then, “Bakugo...are you jealous?”

“What are you even fucking talking about? Why would I be fucking jealous?”

A wicked grin slowly spread over Kirishima’s face. “Well, you can’t blame her. I am really, super incredibly good-looking.” He bumped a still-scowling Bakugo with his shoulder. “But she doesn’t stand a chance; I’m already blessed with a ridiculously hot boyfriend.”

“Dumbass.” Bakugo rolled his eyes but his scowl did soften for a moment. “But you’d think she’d know that already. What, has she been living under a rock? Didn’t the whole world see that stupid picture?”

Kirishima just shrugged. “Does it really matter? Besides, the only person I want humping my leg is you.” He dodged, but not fast enough to avoid Bakugo’s hand smacking the back of his head. “Ow!” He laughed, rubbing his head.

“That didn’t hurt,” Bakugo mumbled. “You could take on a fucking charging rhinoceros and it wouldn’t hurt; pretty sure a smack upside the head isn’t gonna do any damage.” 

“Hey, Bakugo—”

“Oh my god! It’s a charging rhinoceros! Someone please help!” someone shouted, followed by a cacophony of terrified screams and shrieks.

They looked at each other for a split second, then started running toward the commotion. 

“My babies! Someone save my babies!” A woman on the edge of the crowd cried hysterically. Two small children huddled together against the barrier to the penguin habitat, separated from the massive cluster of panicked zoo goers by a giant grey—

“That is not a fucking rhino!” Bakugo shouted. It only took him a moment to assess the situation and he turned to Kirishima. “Riot—”

“On it!” Kirishima activated his Quirk as he leapt into action, not waiting for Bakugo to finish his instructions. Bakugo fired off some explosions as a distraction to give Kirishima time to position himself in front of the kids in case the rhino-like villain charged or tried to take hostages. “It’s okay,” Kirishima said to the terrified children behind him. “I promise, it’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

The villain let out an angry roar and geared up to charge toward Kirishima. In that moment, Bakugo propelled himself from above, landing on the villain’s head and knocking him out. Everyone waited for a breathless moment, to be absolutely sure the villain was incapacitated. Bakugo didn’t want to get in trouble-again-for excessive force but he delivered one last small blast to make sure the villain was out cold. Zoo personnel nervously supplied a transfer cage to hold the villain until the police arrived.

Cheers erupted from the crowd and Kirishima turned to the kids, smiling. “See, it’s okay. You’re okay!”

“Oh my babies!” The woman from the crowd ran forward, kneeling down to embrace the little toddler and his slightly older sister. “Are you okay?” She started crying, touching their hair and their little tear stained faces. “You’re safe, thank goodness you’re safe!” She hugged them again.

“Red Riot! Ground Zero!” Iida zoomed onto the scene, startling the woman and her kids with his loud voice and loud Quirk. “How fortunate you were here! I thought I was closest when the call came but it looks like you two have it handled.” He frowned slightly, taking in a now-shirtless Kirishima, his clothes shredded when he activated his Hardening and Bakugo’s obviously new lack of sleeves. “Um, were you in the middle of something...?” He gestured weakly at their clothes or lack thereof and the incongruously happy zoo environment.

“No, not at all,” Bakugo deadpanned. “Exploding the sleeves off my shirts is a fashion statement.”

“Ah, well, um,” Iida looked back and forth between the two of them, finally settling on Kirishima. “Just—just take care not to get sunburned.” He nodded and walked away, cries of “Ingenium!” following him as he went.

 

They made their way home in the remnants of their clothes, people noticing Kirishima’s spiky red hair and his bare chest and giving him a wave and a cheer, teens and kids often coming up and asking for autographs. Aside from missing a few of his costume accessories, he didn’t look much different than when on patrol. Bakugo wondered how many people even noticed—or would have noticed, except for an obviously not-in-costume Bakugo standing beside him. 

Bakugo thought it probably should bother him that on the street, Kirishima was very clearly more popular than he was. Especially since popularity and public approval factored heavily into the hero ranking charts. But while he wasn’t as anti-attention as Eraserhead, he also didn’t like the constant mobbing and grabbing and gushing that Kirishima put up with. Sure, Bakugo liked attention and recognition—he just preferred it from a distance. 

Plus, they could get home a lot faster if Kirishima didn’t have to stop every twenty feet to sign another autograph or let another person take a selfie with him. But Bakugo did his best to tolerate it; he knew Kirishima ate this shit up. 

And, thankfully for Bakugo’s temper, these fans had all been kids and teens and the occasional salaryman. Not a sexy young woman in sight. 

Not that Bakugo paid attention to that sort of thing.

“Kids are cute, huh?” Kirishima chuckled, sending yet another one on his way with an autograph.

“No.”

“I bet you were a cute kid.”

“No.”

Kirishima smirked. “I’ll ask Deku to show me pictures sometime.”

Bakugo glowered. “Shut up. I bet you were an ugly kid.”

Kirishima laughed self-deprecatingly and shrugged. “Well, there aren’t many pictures of me that young so you’ll never know.”

“Why the fuck not?” Here I said he was ugly and then I’m getting pissed there aren’t pictures. 

“Mom was way too busy for stuff like that,” Kirishima said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Two babies and all on her own—heck, my sister’s only a year and a half younger than me. She had her hands full. All the extra stuff kind of...” he shrugged. “I mean, there are a few pictures here and there. But stuff like that isn’t really a priority for someone who’s just trying to keep it together, y’know?”

In the beginning, Bakugo could never understand why Kirishima got so fucking excited when he invited him along for dinner with his folks. He wasn’t surprised when his mom and dad just loved the shit out of him—Kirishima was the type of guy that parents liked. But he was a little surprised when Kirishima genuinely (was he ever not genuine?) enjoyed spending time with them. 

He had finally asked about it, after he realized Kirishima never went to his own home on breaks (once UA let them again), always eager to tag along with Bakugo. He realized that Kirishima almost never talked about his family or home life. At first he couldn't understand why having a single mom or taking care of a younger sister was anything to hide. That’s when he pieced together Kirishima’s idolization of Crimson Riot; if he didn’t have a dad that wanted him, he’d choose his own father figure. So he chose the epitome of masculinity and went from there. He wanted to be a man that could take care of people and protect them. Be strong and dependable. Someone who would always be there, no matter what. 

Bakugo didn’t meet Kirishima’s mom until their graduation from UA. Hearing Kirishima get choked up and say, “Mom, you made it! I didn’t think you’d come!” made Bakugo feel horrible and sick in a way he never expected.

Kirishima loved his mom. As he should. She had tried her best, done her best, Bakugo knew. But in that moment he was filled with so much anger, thinking of all the times Kirishima just wanted someone to come, someone to be there for him. And no one did. 

It pissed him off just thinking about it.

“Don’t go to Deku for fucking pictures,” he grumbled. “If you want them so fucking bad, I’m sure my mom would just loooove to embarrass me and show them to you.” He groaned. “What’s so fucking great about kids anyway. They’re still annoying, whiny people. Just shorter. And usually covered in snot.”

Kirishima laughed. “Really? You never thought about having kids?” 

“Uh, no.” 

Kirishima snorted at Bakugo’s are you really that fucking stupid? expression. “What? I think you’d be a great dad.”

“Yeah, well, you also think that hairstyle looks good.”

“Hey!” Kirishima punched him in the shoulder.

“Even if I weren’t, let’s see, totally dating a man—”

“You could adopt!”

“—my focus has always been on being a hero. I don’t have time for that shit. You can’t be a pro hero and have a family.”

“Endeavor did it.”

There was a moment of silence. “I think you just proved my point.”

“Okayyy,” Kirishima admitted, “probably not the best example.”

“Even if Endeavor hadn’t been a total asshole...” Bakugo cleared his throat. “I’ll always remember that day, on tv...when he fought that fucked up nomu. And Half-and-Half’s face as he watched, even though he fucking hated his dad...” 

“Yeah.” Kirishima sighed in agreement. 

“So, no,” Bakugo said, trying to get away from the heaviness of that memory. “I’ve never wanted kids.” He glanced at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask...you don’t really want to fucking know, you know you don’t, don’t ask— “You?”

“I always thought it might be fun,” Kirishima said instantly. “I guess I always thought like maybe if I was a great dad, it would somehow prove that...I dunno, that it wasn’t my fault my dad left? That I could be a better man than he was?” He shrugged. “And I just thought it might be fun,” he repeated.

Bakugo knew he should say something motivational or inspiring or fucking loving. Instead he said, “Yeah, well, again—you also thought that hairstyle looks good.”

Kirishima looked surprised for only a moment before laughing. “Asshole!” He jumped on Bakugo’s back, putting him in a fake headlock and mussing his hair. “You’re just jealous it gets me all the attention and you want it all to yourself.”

Bakugo hooked his arms under Kirishima’s knees, carrying him piggyback. “No, I want you all to myself,” he groused.

Kirishima’s arms draped across Bakugo’s shoulders and he leaned forward, his breath hot against Bakugo’s ear. “What did you just say?”

“I said, ‘Get off, asshole, you’re fucking heavy.’”

 

 

When Kirishima looked back on the zoo date months later, he wondered if that date specifically is what set the disastrous tone for all the dates after or if he would’ve been cursed regardless. At the start of the whole thing he never anticipated he’d need to plan more than one proposal date but the upside was he’d done a ton of research and now it looked like he’d get to use every ounce of it, thanks to every single date somehow getting interrupted and derailed by villains.

The dinner cruise. The ferris wheel overlooking the nighttime cityscape. The amusement park. The aquarium. The festival date. And now the ryokan with their private onsen, perhaps the most romantic of the list, and definitely the one Bakugo seemed fondest of, soured by yet another villain.

“Seriously, what the fuck is everyone else doing!” Bakugo bitched once they got back to the room. He’d been ready to just go home, but the owner of the establishment insisted that they stay as planned and avail themselves of her hospitality as a show of gratitude for apprehending the villain before he could do too much damage...even if she had initially been scandalized by Bakugo screaming and cursing and exploding with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Kirishima still wasn’t sure how the hell he kept it on the whole time. 

Kirishima tried to laugh off Bakugo’s bad mood. “We’re heroes, they’re villains—it’s kind of convenient they keep coming to us, right?”

“I swear we’ve busted more fucking villains in the past however many months when we’re fucking off duty than when we’re on patrol! How is this even fucking coincidence anymore?”

“Okay, so it’s not ideal—”

“Did you hear those fucking cops out there? Did you hear what they called us?”

Kirishima cringed. Ah, I knew that would get to him. “I thought it was kinda funny—”

“‘Oh look, it’s Hero Team Date Night’? Yeah. Really fucking funny.”

“Dude, I think you’re overreacting!” Kirishima blurted. Bakugo glared at him, red eyes venomous, jaw clenched. Kirishima knew he was on thin ice and took a deep breath before attempting a wobbly grin. “You did look pretty great out there. You’ll have a lot of new female fans once that picture hits the internet.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes and Kirishima felt some of the intensity dissipate, even if it was replaced by...disappointment? Resignation? 

“You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you.”

Kirishima’s smile faltered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fucking nothing. I’m going to sleep.”

“Hey, Bakugo—”

“Night, Kirishima. Thanks for another memorable date.”

Kirishima’s selling point, his hero identity, was that he was unwavering, unbreakable. He didn’t give up. And it had never even occurred to him that he should. But now, seeing Bakugo turned away from him in the futon, he wondered if Bakugo wanted him to. 

 

 

“Team Kari Kari?” Kirishima asked, notepad on his knee. Bakugo sat out of arm’s reach at the other end of the couch.

The awkward tension had followed them home and oozed into the first day of the work week, exacerbated dramatically by the fact that the day’s patrol had been completely villain-free and instead filled with fans hoping to get autographs and pictures from Red Riot. Then again, with Bakugo’s recent gloomy black aura and permanent scowl, even if he had fans, they wouldn’t have dared approach him. 

“Sounds like cat food. No.”

“Team Kachi Kachi? It’s like a pun that combines my hardness with your love of winning, yeah?”

Bakugo didn’t bother looking away from the tv. “No.”

“Okay, scratch that, then. Team F-Bomb? I think it’s pretty obvious—”

“Are you even taking this seriously?” Bakugo snapped.

“Hey, Bakugo...” Kirishima set the notepad down on the coffee table. He chewed his bottom lip nervously. “What did you mean the other night?”

“I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Are you mad about my fans or something? I didn’t think you cared about—”

“I fucking don’t. I don’t care about fans. I care about being the best. I want to kick villain ass, that’s it.”

“But we’ve done a lot of saving people lately. Even if it is off-duty. And that’s not something you’re really known for, so it’s sure to be good for your numbers! Though you could be a little less grouchy about it—”

“I’m fucking grouchy okay! What’s the big fucking deal? I’m not built for saving people. You are. You’re Mr. He Man Protector Guy beloved by women and children and fucking everybody. ‘I want your autograph, Red Riot!’ ‘You’re my favorite, Red Riot!’ ‘Take a pic with me, Red Riot!’ ‘Let me touch your muscles, Red Riot! ‘Here’s my number, Red Riot!’” Fuck. I don’t know what I’m even saying. I don’t know why I’m fucking mad at you; you didn’t do anything wrong or different. You’re doing amazing and people love you and they should and I’m happy for you but I’m so fucking angry. 

“I don’t understand—”

“It’s fine. I’m just—” Bakugo huffed. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Kirishima protested. “It’s like the more I do, the better I do, the pissier you get—”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s all me.” It is all me. “Because I’m not all about cute dates and housewives and little kids and romance and you’re all trying to be everyone’s hero and dad and...”

He wasn’t the type to second-guess himself. Hell, he was known for his confidence. But he couldn’t be confident about or for other people, which is why he never bothered giving too much of a shit. Until Kirishima came along. And now, remembering how he looked surrounded by the girls in their class, the way he looked so fucking happy when he talked to little kids, the hungry eyes of the girls they’d saved...for the first time, Bakugo wondered if he was what Kirishima really wanted. If he was enough. 

And it was pissing him off.

He had no experience with this shit and he knew Kirishima hadn’t either. Fuck, maybe there had been some middle school crushes or some shit he didn’t know about, but that didn’t even count. And Bakugo had been the one to confe—speak up first, not Kirishima. What if Kirishima had just gone along with it? Fucker could talk himself into anything. What if he was just so easygoing and impressionable that when Bakugo said he loved him, he just figured why not? It was too easy to imagine Kirishima thinking, “Sure, sounds like fun!” without actually fucking thinking about what he was getting into.

“Maybe we need to just let this go.”

Kirishima looked stricken. “What?” he asked in a whisper.

“I just...” Bakugo ran a hand through his hair, frustration vibrating through his whole body. This conversation was already all fucking wrong. “I know you have this perfect fucking fairy tale romance shit in your...” He clenched and unclenched his jaw, the words like glass in his throat. “You have this perfect thing in your head. And we’re never gonna fucking be that.” He sighed heavily. “I just...I’m tired of watching you fucking tear yourself up for this thing that’s never gonna happen.”

He didn’t wait for Kirishima’s reply, retreating—not ‘retreating,’ storming off—to the bedroom. He lie there with his eyes closed, thinking of what to say, how to fix it... He lie there listening for Kirishima’s footsteps, waiting to feel Kirishima’s weight sink into the bed next to him, the heat radiating off his skin as he pulled Bakugo close as he always did.

He lie there, thinking and listening and waiting...and Kirishima never came.

 

 

Bakugo was surprised to find out he must’ve fallen asleep at some point because he not only woke up alone, but Kirishima had already left for work without him. And then left the agency without him before he got there, a note in Kirishima’s ugly handwriting with some lame excuse about heading out on his own today. For a moment he considered seeking him out and confronting him, but if that’s how Kirishima wanted to do this, then fine. 

Besides, as much as Bakugo hated the friction, he hoped Kirishima was at least thinking. And he must be-Kirishima wasn’t a pouter. He didn’t hold a grudge—that was Bakugo’s department—so for him to keep his distance this long, he had to be mulling things over. Which, in his awkward way, is what he wanted Kirishima to do in the first place. Probably. 

But that evening when he was home and there was no sign of Kirishima, he had started second-guessing what the fuck was taking so long. He’d fucked around at the agency as long as he could but it was obvious that no matter how much he dicked around wasting time, Kirishima wouldn’t return to the agency until he left. He considered the unlikely possibility Kirishima had gone straight home but the house was dark and cold when he got there. He waited long past the usual time before giving in and typing out a text.

Hey, asshole, where are you?-
He deleted it.

Hey, asshole, come home. I love you.-
He deleted it.

Hey, asshole. You coming home?-
He deleted it.

Hey, asshole. You alive?
He hit send.

The reply came almost immediately. 
Sry! Gonna finish up some stuff. Head 2 bed w/o me.

I don’t want to.-
He deleted it.

For the second time in two nights, Bakugo slept alone. For the first time in the year since they’d started sleeping in the same bed, Bakugo had nightmares.

 

 

“What?” Ashido sat down, shocked. “You’ve been sleeping here? At the agency?” She looked at the similarly surprised faces of Sero, Kaminari, and Jiro. “Why? I thought you were getting married!” She gasped. “Did he say no?”

Kirishima shook his head, “No, I never...I never asked. No matter how much I planned, our dates kept getting interrupted by weird villain attacks and I never...it just never happened.” He shrugged. “And maybe that’s for the best.”

“It did seem like you guys were in the news a lot lately for bagging villains out of uniform,” Jiro said. 

“Kirishima,” Kaminari said with a scowl. “Why would you say that?”

“I just think I was more excited about it than he was. I guess I don’t get it, because he’s the one who originally brought it up, but I don’t think he really wanted to.”

“What makes you think that, man?” Sero asked. “I thought you guys seemed pretty into each other. Since, like...forever.”

“What did he say?” Ashido asked.

“It’s probably not a big deal. I’m...I’m probably over-reacting. You know him, he doesn’t really realize how a lot of what he says actually sounds—”

“What did he say?” the four asked in unison.

Kirishima took a deep breath. It was great that his friends were here to support him, even if their untouched takeout was getting cold on the coffee table and they were a bit forceful in their questioning. He loved his friends, he really did, but sitting here, surrounded by these people who he’d been through so much with and who he knew cared about him...he couldn’t help but feel horribly empty. Guilt washed over him; they’d dropped everything to come here, yet he didn’t really want to be around any of them right now. They were all great people, but he didn’t want their advice. He wanted his best friend’s advice. He wanted his best friend to roll his eyes, tell him he was being stupid, then proceed to bark out instructions he would do in that weirdly thoughtful but angry-sounding way. But the best friend he needed advice from was the boyfriend he needed advice about. 

For a second, Kirishima wondered if there was a way to go back to that. To what they had before. If maybe that’s what Bakugo wanted. But no sooner had he thought it than he knew he didn’t want that at all. Maybe that’s why this hurts so bad. Now that I know what it’s like, I can’t stand the thought of not having it.

“He kind of said that I hadn’t given it enough thought. That I was more suited to a wife and kids and being a dad and...Since I grew up with just my mom and sister, I have this need to protect women and children I’m obviously not going to get that with him. I think that’s what he meant, anyway?”

“He brought your freakin’ family into it?” Sero cringed.

“It kinda makes sense,” Kirishima admitted. “Since I didn’t have a dad around—”

Kaminari stood up and headed for the door. 

“Kaminari, where are you going?” Jiro asked, also standing.

“I can’t believe this shit,” was all he said before leaving and slamming the door.

 

Someone’s fucking persistent. The incessant pounding on the door was so demanding it was tempting to be contrary and let them keep at it just to see how long they’d continue. But Bakugo had better shit to do  and there was always the less-than-one-percent chance it was actually something important.

“What the fuck are you thinking, man?” Kaminari asked angrily as soon as the door opened. “Saying shit like that to him!”

“I’m doing this out of consideration for him, dipshit!” Bakugo spat back.

“Are you fucking serious right now? Doing what for him? Pushing him away and making him feel like shit? That’s a super awesome thing to do, alright.” Electricity crackled over his skin. “You’re gonna find out, you need him way more than he’s ever needed you.”

Bakugo was incredulous. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I don’t need Kirishima.”

Fury contorted Kaminari’s face. “You are such an asshole. I don’t know why he puts up with you—I don’t know why he loves you, but he does. And you go and pull this bullshit?”

“Maybe you should mind your own fucking business, Kaminari.”

“No. Kirishima is my friend. He’s a really good guy! And he deserves so much better than to have his heart broken by you.”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit.”

“You’re always like this! You don’t like what people say so you throw a fit and just tell us shut up or we’re stupid. All you’ve ever done is use him. You just keep hitting him with everything you’ve got, seeing how much he can take until he breaks. He’s not a shield, he’s not a wall, he’s not a rock. He is a person.”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed. “That’s really what you fucking think?”

Kaminari was shaking but stood his ground. “Yeah. And you finally did it, you finally broke him. So I hope you’re fucking happy.”

“The Kirishima I know would never break from something like this. I don’t know what Kirishima you’re talking about but my Kirishima isn’t that weak. He’s way fucking stronger than I am.” 

Kaminari stood there, stunned and speechless, and Bakugo took the opportunity to slam the door in his face. 

 

Another night alone, another day Kirishima left the agency before Bakugo even got there in the morning. It was their monthly dinner at Bakugo’s folks’ so he waited around at the end of the day, thinking Kirishima might show up for them at least.  Then again, Kirishima was a shitty actor and couldn’t lie to save his soul, so there was no way he could go to dinner with Bakugo and not have the folks realize there was something very obviously wrong. 

Maybe he’ll be back at the house when I get home. 

 

“Katsuki!” his mom exclaimed happily, then looked surprised when he shut the door behind him, still looking for Kirishima. “Where’s my favorite son?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Bakugo barked.

She gave him a disappointed look. “Finally managed to chase him off? After all this time? That’s too bad. I guess there’s only so much a person can take.”

Bakugo didn’t answer, instead starting his usual routine of readying the dishes for dinner, closing the cupboards with a lot more force than required.

But when his mom turned and saw settings for just three, which it hadn’t been even once since Kirishima started tagging along for these dinners years ago, her face softened.

“Katsuki. What happened?”

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” he grumbled, emphasizing his point by slamming down a glass.

“Don’t break the fucking glassware!” his mom yelled.

“Ah, the house is always so lively when you guys visit,” Bakugo’s dad stepped into the kitchen, a look of confusion across his face as he looked around. “Where’s my other son?”

Bakugo wanted to blow something up. Badly. “Both of you can fucking go to hell!”

“Katsuki, don’t talk to your parents like that!” His mom smacked him in the back of the head. 

He clenched his jaw and tried to focus on his breathing. How had all of this gone so horribly wrong? What was even happening? 

Quietly, his dad ventured, “Is...Eijiro-kun alright?”

“Fucking fine,” Bakugo bit out. Then, lower, “I think. I don’t fucking know.” 

His parents shared a knowing look between them. With a resigned sigh his mom finished placing the meal on the table and gestured for everyone to sit. No one made a move to start eating.

“I-I don’t know how to do this,” Bakugo said, his voice so quiet he almost didn’t recognize it as his.

His mom put what he supposed was intended to be a comforting hand on his hair. “No, you sure don’t.”

He glared at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because you fucking suck at this.”

His dad cleared his throat. “I think...I think what mom is trying to say, Katsuki...well...you know, you and she are a lot alike.”

“Fucking duh, dad.”

“Katsuki!” The theoretically comforting hand on his head smacked him, then went back to petting his hair. 

His dad smiled, though at what Bakugo had no fucking clue. “You both are very, uh, ‘strong’ personalities. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing! But you are so used to knowing what you want and single-mindedly pursuing it, you kind of pull other people along into your pace.”

“Yeah, apparently that’s the fucking problem.”

“It is the problem,” his father agreed. “You have to let the people around you make their own decisions.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Bakugo protested.

His father held up a hand. “Now, I don’t know what you’re, um, disagreeing about exactly. But give Eijiro-kun some credit. I know in your own way you’re looking out for him, but he is capable of making his own decisions. Have a little faith.”

Bakugo looked at him suspiciously. “You really don’t know what we’re fight—disagreeing about?”

His dad pushed up his glasses to cover a little smile. “No, but you two are young and energetic and in love, so I have a pretty good idea.”

“Gross.”

“Katsuki,” his mom said with a sigh, “this is normal. Couples have disagreements. And once marriage is in the picture, things can get really stressful and a lot of things just bubble up—”

“Marriage?” Bakugo asked, confused. He mentally ran through every single conversation he could remember with his parents in the last ten months, rounding out to a year just in case. “How do you—”

“Eijiro-kun never told you? He stopped by and asked us for our permission! Our blessing!” His mom squealed. “Isn’t that the cutest thing?”

“What?!”

“I was really impressed,” Bakugo’s dad nodded solemnly. “I have to admit, I got choked up. He really is a wonderful young man.”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Bakugo was still grasping for some sort of equilibrium. 

“Let’s see, I think right after you moved in together? So...a while.”

Yeah a fucking while. Shit, that was almost a year ago. Holy fuck, had it really been almost a year? What had they been doing this whole time? Oh, right. Going on dates that without fail got interrupted by villains. Going on dates that Kirishima had obviously picked to be perfect to propose and yet somehow never got the chance. He had asked his parents for their fucking blessing and been trying to propose to him for a year and yet he had been an asshole and flippantly told Kirishima he was being stupid and hadn’t really thought it through. 

Elbows on the table, he covered his face with his hands. “I am such an asshole,” he groaned.

His mom, predictably, laughed. His dad too. What the fuck? Thanks for nothing, dad.

“Honey,” his mom rubbed his shoulder. “You are an asshole. But Eijiro-kun knows that and still has always looked at you like you hung the moon. Don’t chase him away because you’re scared. You find someone like that once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky.” She puffed out her chest. “I know from experience! The moment I saw your dad, I knew he was the one. And I went after him with everything I had.”

“Mom. Gross.”

“She sure did, too,” his dad nodded. “It was, uh, quite intimidating at first.”

“Okay, you can stop now.”

“But I ultimately found her determination quite endearing. And, uh, attractive.”

His mom winked at him from across the table. “You’re pretty attractive yourself.”

“Hello, I am here, sitting between the two of you. I do not want to see this. Especially when I am trying to eat.” He started shoving food in his mouth.

“Oh, yes.” Bakugo’s dad gestured toward the food on the table. “Dinner looks delicious, darling.”

“So do you, honey,” she purred. 

“Oh my god I am leaving.”

 

He wasn’t surprised when the house was still cold and dark when he got home from dinner. Hours later, unable to sleep, he typed out:

The folks missed you tonight.-
He deleted it. 

We missed you tonight.-
He deleted it. 

I miss you.-
He deleted it.

Another night alone. Another nightmare.

 

 

Perhaps thanks to the nightmares, Bakugo got up and to the agency at an ungodly hour. Way earlier than Kirishima had any reason to expected him.

“Hey.” 

Kirishima startled. “Oh, dude, I didn’t hear you come in.” He laughed, but it sounded empty.

He’s got circles under his eyes and he’s all fucking pasty. He looks like shit. Bakugo’s stomach knotted. And it’s my fucking fault. “We still on for tonight?” The date had been circled in red on the wall calendar for months, as well as the time blocked off on their synced phone calendar. 

Surprise flashed across Kirishima’s face, and then...hope? But then his expression quickly became guarded. Which Bakugo hated. He’d seen it before, plenty of times. But never with him. “I didn’t know...if you still...I mean—”

“I do,” Bakugo said, his voice a little too loud. He looked at Kirishima, those big fucking red eyes looking back at him, just waiting and wanting and Bakugo wanted nothing more in that moment than to just take one step forward and pull Kirishima to him and kiss him senseless. Bakugo was much better at communicating via actions than words. Just one little step—

But they had a very strict no kissing rule at the agency. They were pros and this was work. And sure, maybe when one of them started sleeping at the agency, the line between work and personal life blurred a bit. But he knew if he gave in and kissed Kirishima now, Kirishima would forgive him, so easily, and everything would just kind of fall back into place and he’d be off the hook and nothing would change. So, in order to hold himself accountable, he took a deep breath and refrained. He wouldn’t take the easy way out; he would wait and actually use words and say all those things that Kirishima deserved to hear from him. 

“I do,” he repeated, a little more controlled this time. Then, “Please.”

Kirishima’s eyes went wide and Bakugo hated that he knew Kirishima was counting how many times he’d ever heard Bakugo say please for anything. Fuck, I really am an asshole. Then he smiled—not his standard hero smile, not his usual toothy grin, but just a tiny little smile so precious Bakugo thought his heart might fly right out of his chest.

“Sure.” Kirishima said. His smile got a little wider. “It’s a date.”

“Great.” Bakugo replied, trying his best not to but totally smiling like an idiot. “Eight o’clock. I’ll pick you up at...our place?”

Kirishima laughed outright. “See you then.” 

Bakugo was very strongly second-guessing the “no kissing at work” rule. Whose shitty idea had that been, anyway? Fuck. Mine.

A villain alert pinged both their phones, saving Bakugo from his dilemma. 

“Ooh, this one looks right up our alley!” Kirishima said excitedly. “Let’s get to work!”

 

Bakugo, as a general rule, absolutely despised dressing up. But of course Kirishima had made reservations at this place months ago, and it was one of the hottest, most exclusive restaurants in the city with its menu that critics unanimously raved about, its breathtaking location overlooking the sprawling night lights of the city below, and private dining rooms perfect for date night. As they were seated in their own private dining space, Bakugo had a pretty strong hunch that had they not been pretty famous pro heroes, Kirishima would’ve been made to wait a lot longer than a few months for his reservation.

The appearance of privacy and the reality of privacy were two different things, so they waited until the entrees had been served and their server, although plenty polite, wouldn’t have reason to check on them for a while.

Situations like this made Bakugo wish he was a drinker; his nerves were so tightly strung he felt like he was humming. But he also needed all of his wits about him. 

“So, um,” Kirishima scratched the back of his head nervously. “Kaminari told me you guys, uh, talked.”

“Talked,” Bakugo repeated. He snorted. “I guess you can call it that.” He looked at Kirishima, who kept avoiding his gaze. “Guess I should’ve expected it. Of course you’d go to him.”

Kirishima blinked in confusion. “I didn’t...not really. I actually asked Ashido for advice and before I knew it, everyone was there.”

“Everyone?” Bakugo said, apprehension creeping into his voice. 

“Yeah. Well, not everyone everyone. But her, Sero, Jiro. And Kaminari, obviously. He, uh, left pretty early on though.”

Bakugo grimaced. “Y’know, I know they’re your friends—”

“Our friends,” Kirishima corrected out of habit.

“—But you always go to them for advice and they usually really suck at it.”

Kirishima laughed. “I suppose that’s fair. But they did give me some pretty good advice this time!” He licked his lips nervously. “I told them that it was really hard, y’know, because how do you talk about your boyfriend with your best friend when your best friend is your boyfriend.”

Bakugo swallowed. “And? What did they say?”

“They said,” Kirishima grinned, “that I just need to talk to Bakugo my best friend about Bakugo my boyfriend and see what he thinks. So, best friend, I really need your help with this guy I’m dating.”

“I’ll—” Bakugo took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best. Lay it on me.”

Kirishima’s smile was like the sun. “Well, he’s like...everything to me right? I’m just crazy about him. Like, I want to marry the guy, okay? But then—get this—he starts saying all this crazy stuff. Telling me he doesn’t want kids, and when I ask where the heck that came from, he gives me this bizarre lecture about how I’d make a great dad but he doesn’t want kids and won’t have kids—and can’t physically have his own, obviously, which you’d think he would at least know I’m smart enough to know that—and then accuses me of not thinking about things enough.”

“Sounds like a real dick,” Bakugo croaked.

“Right?” Kirishima agreed, really getting into it. “I mean, I’ve been in love with him for years. Okay, so maybe I didn’t exactly realize that’s what it was for a while, but still. And he has the balls to accuse me of not giving this enough consideration? He even...he even said I looked happier around girls and that maybe I should really think about dating helpless single mothers because he thinks they’re totally in my strike zone.”

“He said that? Really?” Bakugo raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he didn’t say that exact thing. But that’s how it sounded to me!” Kirishima protested. “Thing is, you know me-chivalry is my thing. Manliness, is my thing. I am not going to date someone just for fun. I am not going to propose without really thinking about it. And...” his voice dropped to a whisper and he looked away. “It just really hurt to think that someone who should know me best would really think my love is that...worthless.”

“This guy sounds like a real asshole,” Bakugo said, voice gravelly. Kirishima looked up at him, eyes wet. “I think you should fucking dump him and date me instead.”

Kirishima burst out laughing. “I’m flattered.” He wiped his eyes. “But he’s the only one for me.”

“Suit yourself,” Bakugo shrugged. “Sounds like you’re a fucking masochist.”

“Y’know, I get that a lot,” Kirishima grinned. 

“Maybe it’ll help if I tell you about what’s going on with my boyfriend,” Bakugo suggested. Kirishima stared at him. “See, I really fucked up. What I meant to say and what I actually said...or maybe it was the way I said it? Anyway, it all just went out of control. He loves me a lot—he’s not fucking shy about it.” Kirishima smiled slightly, tips of his ears turning pink. “But it’s because he loves me so much that I know he’ll do anything for me. And I was just worried that included sacrificing his own happiness. I was terrified—” Bakugo almost choked on the word. “Terrified of the day he woke up next to me and realized I wasn’t what he wanted after all.”

Kirishima’s voice was rough. “You must think your boyfriend is a real idiot.”

“Well he kind of is!” Bakugo said. “And he’s kind of a masochist too!” Kirishima laughed outright. “But you’re right. He’s my partner; I should’ve trusted him to know what he wants.”

“You should’ve,” Kirishima agreed, voice cracking. 

“He was just trying so hard trying to be perfect and romantic and...he was already fucking perfect to me, y’know? I hated watching him try to orchestrate these fairy tale dates and shit when it didn’t matter. I mean, yeah, it matters, that’s not...” Bakugo ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t need to go to the zoo or kiss on the ferris wheel or go for a romantic hot spring weekend. Although I do like the hot spring...that’s not the fucking point!” He looked straight at Kirishima, determined not to fuck this up. “Anything we do is perfect because I’m with you. That’s what I’m trying to fucking say. We don’t need to try to fit ourselves into someone else’s idea of a perfect couple on a perfect date. I’m happy in our shitty old sweats and you with no fucking shirt on like usual on our fucking ugly couch watching a movie we’ve seen at least fifty fucking times and me pretending to fall sleep and you fucking ogling me because you think I can’t tell.”

“That...that’s what you meant?”

“Yeah?” Bakugo felt slightly confused. “What else would I mean?”

Kirishima ignored that. “So...you’re happy? You said, in our shitty old sweats and—”

“So happy I could fucking explode,” Bakugo said, perfectly serious.

Kirishima snorted, then sobered. “Kaminari said you told him you didn’t need me.”

“I don’t,” Bakugo said immediately. “I don’t need you. I need to brush my teeth and I need to shit and I need to make sure I eat enough protein but I don’t necessarily want to do any of those things.” Kirishima blinked in confusion, chewing on his lower lip. “But I want you. More than anything. Isn’t that better? To be wanted?”

Kirishima just stared at him incredulously for a moment. Then laughter bubbled up out of him until tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “You...” he took a deep breath to regain his composure. “You have the absolute worst habit of only voicing the end of your thought process.”

“At least I have a thought process.”

Kirishima grinned. “There’s the Bakugo I know and love.”

“Still?” Bakugo asked intently.

“Always and forever,” Kirishima answered without hesitation. 

“So embarrassing,” Bakugo muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I wonder if it would negatively impact our ranking if we get caught making out on top of a table at the city’s fanciest fucking restaurant.”

“Hey, I’m willing to find out.”

Bakugo blinked for a minute, heat flooding his face as he pieced it together. “Shit. I said that out loud?” 

Kirishima burst out laughing—Bakugo was pretty sure the entire fucking restaurant heard him, had he taken fucking laugh lessons from All Might or something?—then leaned forward over the table. “But you know,” he whispered, “the romantic ambiance, the private dining room...they have to assume people are getting a little, uh,” Kirishima licked his lower lip, “y’know...”

Bakugo had leaned across to meet him. “Fuck words,” he growled with anticipation. 

“Who needs ‘em,” Kirishima breathily agreed, grabbing Bakugo’s tie and closing the gap—

—when the giant window so famously overlooking the nighttime cityscape utterly shattered from the impact of something extremely large and screams erupted throughout the restaurant at the sound.

“Of fucking course,” Bakugo said, picking himself up from where Kirishima had tackled him and activated his Quirk instantly, covering and protecting them both. “Riot, you okay—”

“Yup!” Kirishima stood, brushing off fragments of shattered glass and giving Bakugo a quick peck on the lips. Then, “One more.” Another one. “One more?”

“This is why there’s a no kissing rule at work!”

“But we aren’t at work!”

The wrecking ball villain contorted and started to unfurl, “Team Lovey Dovey Date Night!” he leered. “What are you going to do, smooooooch me to death?”

Bakugo’s grin was absolutely vicious as the explosions started building in his palm. 

Kirishima activated his Quirk and assuming a fighting stance. “Ground Zero, remember excessive force really affects your ranking—”

“It’ll be worth it.”

Kirishima amped up his Hardening to defend himself more from the blowback that would be coming from Bakugo’s explosions than out of any real concern for the villain, who he looked at with something like pity and simply said, “You picked a bad day.”

 

Hours later, Bakugo woke up, choking down panic. 

“Hey,” Kirishima mumbled into his pillow, hooking an arm around Bakugo and pulling him into his chest, not bothering to open his eyes. “You okay?”

“You’re here,” Bakugo said, almost incredulously.

Kirishima opened his eyes, brow furrowed in confusion. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

“You’re here,” Bakugo sighed in relief, eyelids already drooping back into sleep. “I fucking hate it when you’re not here,” he mumbled sleepily.

Kirishima breathed into Bakugo’s hair, pulling him even tighter against him. “Me too.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bakugo squinted as dawn broke over the ocean. “We chased after this fucker all fucking night?”

Kirishima nodded, exhausted. “But we got him.” 

“Finally!” the police officer said cheerily as they finished loading the villain into the cop car. “Thank you so much for your help, Red Riot! Ground Zero! We’ve been after this guy for months!”

They watched the police cars pull away before Kirishima sat on the sand with a thud. Bakugo gave in and sat down beside him, trying to catch his breath.

“Why the fuck was that so hard?” Bakugo complained. 

“Maybe we’re out of shape? We haven’t been attacked on a date in two months.”

“We haven’t been on a date in two months.”

“Maybe you should take me on one. We snagged a lot of villains that way,” Kirishima suggested, lying back in the sand, one hand under his head. 

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “We should both have more stamina than this. We might have to start incorporating some all-night training...” His brow furrowed, already thinking of routines and logistics.

“I thought that’s what we’d been doing?” Kirishima asked, too innocently.

The look of intense concentration on Bakugo’s face turned to confusion for a split second before he put  everything together and the tips of his ears turned bright red. “That’s not what I meant, asshole!” He kicked Kirishima in the leg for good measure. 

Kirishima, of course, just laughed. Bakugo stood up and dusted sand off his pants; Kirishima sat up. “Why does this place look so familiar?”

“Picture,” he replied, looking around. “Not exactly-exactly here, but close to here.” He looked down at Kirishima with a smirk. “If you’d actually looked around at the time instead of looking at me, you might recognize it.”

“Oh shut up,” Kirishima laughed. “I’d rather look at you than the stupid sunrise over the ocean any day.”

Bakugo blinked, caught off guard. Kirishima’s honesty had a habit of doing that to him. “C’mon, let’s get going.” He held out a hand to help him up, taking care to anchor. Fucker had yanked him down enough for Bakugo to be aware of the trick.

“Hey, Bakugo,” Kirishima squinted up at him. “I think I just thought of a good team name.”

“After what, almost a year and a half? I doubt it.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

Bakugo snorted. “Fine. What is it?”

Kirishima reached up and took Bakugo’s hand. “Team I’ve always loved you and I always will. Bakugo Katsuki, please marry me.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Kirishima still seated in the sand, his hand around Bakugo’s, his thumb idly caressing the knuckle on the ring finger of Bakugo’s left hand. 

“Name’s too fucking long,” Bakugo said, hefting Kirishima to standing and pulling him into a kiss that started delicately but quickly turned way too passionate for a public beach on a weekday morning.

He pulled away, lips wet, Kirishima staring back at him with red eyes blown wide. Kirishima tried leaning in again but Bakugo stopped him. “No kissing at work.”

“I hate that rule,” Kirishima grumbled.
 

 

“I now pronounce you husband and husband!” Midnight officiated with her usual degree of flair. “You may kiss the groom!” 

The immense room was absolutely packed with friends, family, old classmates, professional acquaintances, and everyone in between. Bakugo had stayed out of the wedding planning for the most part; Kirishima only asking his opinion on the most essential details. Kirishima seemed to almost enjoy keeping a secretive air about things. Like, apparently, the overwhelming amount of people who would be attending.

Bakugo looked at Kirishima, those honest red eyes staring back at him expectantly. He just had to kiss him in front of like a million people? How hard could it be? Or wait, did Kirishima want to kiss him? Had they discussed this? What—

Kirishima leaned forward with a small smile, whispering, “It’s okay, I got you,” almost imperceptibly soft against Bakugo’s lips. 

“Fucker,” Bakugo whispered back, his hand moving to cup Kirishima’s jaw. He felt Kirishima’s lips smile against his and that’s when he thought, like a million fucking people came to see this, might as well make it worth their while and he kissed Kirishima for real.

Bakugo did show some restraint, but he also knew how to play to a crowd. And he was positive—pretty positive, anyway—that it didn’t really go on for that long. Just long enough for—

“Ahhh, youth! I love it!” from a thrilled Midnight.

“Eri-chan! Cover your eyes!” That was Togata.

“Kirishima-kun...” An embarrassed groan from Amajiki.

“K-K-K-Kacchan!” Deku sounded positively scandalized.

“Go get him, Katsuki!” A cheer from his mom.

“Woo, Kirishima!” Ashido hooted.

Pretty sure that was just a wordless shriek from Uraraka.

“Get a room, you two!” Mineta sounded a little bitter.

“Ahem.” Definitely Todoroki.

A shrill whistle, must be Hawks.

“Savage.” Disgusted sigh from Best Jeanist.

“Hell yeah, Kirishima!” A happy shout from Fat Gum. 

“Baku— Kirishi—” Hopefully All Might wouldn’t cough up too much blood. 

Bakugo eased back, their lips softly touching for just one last second before his hand dropped to Kirishima’s shoulder and he stepped back. Kirishima grinned from ear to ear and for a just moment Bakugo was so overwhelmed by the unfettered adoration he saw in Kirishima’s red eyes that he forgot he was in front of everyone he knew (and some he didn’t know) and couldn’t help but grin like an idiot back.

Until the crowd erupted in a cheer and startled him back to reality. 

“They’ve probably never seen you do that,” Kirishima said, lips next to Bakugo’s ear so he could be heard over the cheers.

“What? Kiss you till your toes curl?” 

Kirishima laughed. “Not that. I mean yes, they haven’t seen that either. Until now. But no.” He poked Bakugo’s cheek. “Most people in this room have never seen you really smile.”

“Now,” Present Mic’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Let’s paaaaarty!”

 

Do we really know this many fucking people? 

The party was in full swing, everyone eating, drinking, dancing, or attempting some combination of the three, with well-wishers seeking out the newlyweds to offer their congratulations.

Kaminari was already beyond buzzed when he found them, giving Kirishima a sloppy hug. He started at Bakugo, swaying slightly on his feet. “We cool, man?”

“I told you that ages ago.” He had.

Kaminari did his best Bakugo impression, not helped at all by the alcohol. “Yeah, well, my Kirishima isn’t isn’t that weak. My Kirishima is way stronger than I am.” He burst out laughing. 

“C’mon, you look like an ass,” Jiro intervened. “More than usual.” 

“Hey!”

“Congrats, you two!” Jiro called over her shoulder, Kaminari trying to lean on her and dance at the same time.

“What was that about?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you later.”

“K-Kacchan! Kirishima-kun!” Deku filtered out of the crowd toward them. He looked at Bakugo and quickly looked away again, face flushing bright red. “T-t-that k-k-kiss was...K-Kacchan...” 

Bakugo smirked. “What, did you fucking time it and write it down in your little notebook?” Maybe it was petty—okay, it was totally petty—but making Deku uncomfortable still felt like a triumph. 

“Um, Kirishima-kun!” Deku changed focus. “Congratulations. I’m very happy for you. And, um...” He risked a nervous glance at Bakugo. “I know it’s been a while since I mentioned it, but, it, uh, looks like my theory was right.” He whispered so only Kirishima could hear, “Looks like he loves pretty intensely.”

Kirishima laughed and Bakugo glared, or tried to, but he didn’t really care that much and Uraraka interrupted everything by hugging everyone in sight. “Bakugo-kun! Kirishima-kun!” she wailed. “I am so so so happy for youuu!”

“No crying! Dancing!” Ashido grabbed Uraraka’s arms. 

“It’s happy crying!” Uraraka protested. 

Ashido rolled her eyes at Uraraka, whose crying was now making Deku cry too. “Kirishima!” She gave him a thumb’s up. “Good job.” She gave Bakugo an appraising look before giving him a thumb’s up as well. “You too. Now,” she turned away, snagging Deku and Uraraka, “dancing! Todoroki, come dance too!”

“Soon,” Torodoki replied. Bakugo tried not to sneer. He really didn’t hate the guy. But he didn’t consider them friends either. He gave them that overly calm, detached appraising look that he gave everything (except Endeavor) before simply saying, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, man,” Kirishima smiled. With a satisfied nod, he left to join the others on the dance floor. Kirishima watched him go. “Kinda surprised Todoroki’s dancing.”

“Deku would’ve just cried and pestered and nagged him until he did,” Bakugo said with a shrug. “Probably figured it was easier to just give in now.”

“Kirishima-kun, that was too embarrassing,” Amajiki said, the tips of his ears still red from second-hand embarrassment. 

“Senpai! Eri-chan!” Kirishima exclaimed. “So glad you came! Oh, wow! Eri-chan’s almost all grown up!”

“Not all the way. But close,” Amajiki said in his usual gloomy way. 

“Fourteen,” Eri volunteered.

“Hey, Tamaki!” Fat Gum’s voice boomed as he gave Amajiki a hefty, friendly smack on the back despite Amajiki’s resulting complaints of abuse. “Lemillion talked you into coming after all! Good for you!” He gave Eri a pat on the head, mindful not to muss her hair. “Eri-chan, looking cute today!”

“Speaking of, I better find Mirio before he gets into trouble,” Amajiki groaned. Eri giggled. “Kirishima-kun, congratulations.” Amajiki gave an awkward nod, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Congratulations,” Eri mimicked.

“Aw, thanks.” Kirishima smiled. “Be sure to try the sweets, Eri-chan!”

“Suneater-san,” Eri asked as she and Amajiki walked off, “are you and Lemillion-san going to have a wedding like this?” Amajiki loudly stumbled over a chair.

Bakugo, Kirishima, and Fat Gum immediately looked at each, trying to see if they all heard the same thing. Finally Fat Gum just grinned and shrugged. “It’d be good for him!”

“You’re always meddling in other people’s business,” Best Jeanist said disdainfully, walking up to stand beside Fat.

“It’s not meddling,” Fat Gum protested with a smile, elbowing Jeanist in the ribs. Gently, Bakugo noticed. “It’s looking out for my buddies.”

Jeanist rolled his eyes, the only thing visible over his stylish wedding guest denim. “Congratulations, Bakugo. I am simultaneously surprised yet thrilled that somehow, someone managed to straighten you out.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow but it was Fat Gum who spoke. “Uh, Jeanist...” he said with faux concern, “I’m pretty sure straightening is the opposite of what happened here.”

Jeanist looked absolutely appalled for a moment before turning bright red. “Why I— That’s not— Lewd.” He turned on an elegant heel and gracefully stormed off.

Fat Gum chuckled. “Congrats, both of you! Laugh a lot, love a lot, and eat lots of good food. Now,” he glanced in the direction Best Jeanist had gone, “I need to go smooth some ruffled feathers. Or ruffled denim. Whatever.” And he was off. Bakugo noticed that Jeanist hadn’t bothered to storm very far into the crowd, obviously waiting for Fat Gum to catch up to him while trying to look like he was doing anything but exactly that.

“Bakugo-shone—Bakugo-kun!” All Might smiled as he stepped up, his hand resting on Aizawa’s arm for support, their posture similar to that of a gentleman escorting a lady despite the people in question physically resembling anything but. “Kirishima-kun!” He hugged both of them. All Might had always been a hugger, though for a while during his UA years, Bakugo had a suspicion he did it on purpose just to piss him off. 

“That was a little...excessive, Bakugo,” Aizawa said in monotone. Bakugo’s eyes caught the small movement of Aizawa automatically extending his arm for All Might to return his hand. His gaze flickered to All Might, who coughed behind his other hand, a dead give-away.

“Yeah, well, that’s my style,” Bakugo shrugged.

“That it is!” All Might said, louder than necessary. “Excessive, but so perceptive. Nothing gets past you. What a great hero you’ve become!” He coughed again, looking at Bakugo to make sure his horribly-conveyed message begging Bakugo to be discreet was delivered. Bakugo rolled his eyes, I’ve kept your secrets better than Deku ever has, All Might. Relieved, All Might smiled, genuinely full of affection for the both of them. “Both of you. Great heroes and great young men. And now I’m sure you’ll both be great husbands too.”

Okay, that’s a little embarrassing. “Thanks,” Bakugo mumbled. 

“Good luck, you two,” Aizawa offered as they walked away, All Might’s skeletal fingers wrapped snugly around Aizawa’s arm.

Eraser? Really? He’d had his suspicions back during the now-infamous photograph incident, when All Might had gotten wind of the whole thing through Aizawa. All Might’s reaction had definitely been telling at the time, but Bakugo had pushed it to the back of his mind because first of all, he didn’t really fucking care, and secondly, it was just too fucking weird.

But now as he watched them maneuver to a seat, Aizawa’s arm around All Might’s shoulders or a hand in the middle of his back, all those little touches now shone like beacons from his time with Kirishima. Sure, one could brush it off as the fact that All Might was getting, well, old and had definitely seen better days, but there was just something too lingering, too intimate, too natural. 

Bakugo’s last serious conversation with All Might came to the front of his thoughts, his confession of miscommunication and missed opportunities with David Shield. The way All Might had spoken then, Bakugo thought he must still have feelings for his friend, so what was this thing with Aizawa happening right in front of him? I guess at some point he had to move on. They had to move on. Hell, Shield had a wife and has a kid older than us. And even if he did all that crazy shit for All Might, there’s probably no going back from that. No starting over for them. Because there is no “them” anymore. He glanced at Kirishima. If the tables were turned, if he were in All Might’s position, could he move on? Would he find someone to fill that spot? He didn’t think so. Kirishima took up too much space; no one else would be able to fill it. He was irreplaceable. 

“You finally looked at me!” Kirishima beamed, and Bakugo realized it was true. He had tried to look everywhere but directly at Kirishima while the partygoers circled around, offering their congratulations. “I swear, you’re looking around like you expect villains to jump out at any moment or something. I was starting to wonder if I’d done something wrong.”

“If I let myself look at you, I won’t be able to look away.” Kirishima’s eyes widened in surprise. Fuck. He didn’t really mean to say that out loud, but judging by the red flush taking over Kirishima’s face, it wasn’t exactly the wrong thing to say.

He indulged in another glance at profusely blushing and speechless Kirishima—not ‘Kirishima’-my fucking husband. His husband looked stunning; he knew they both looked fucking amazing. He had no doubt they would have been the center of attention even if they weren’t the ones getting married. And it all had seemed so silly and excessive, the enormous beautiful banquet hall with the meticulously chosen orange and red roses placed for explosions of color, endless tables of gorgeous food, the mile-long guest list, the constant music bolstering the celebratory atmosphere...and it was something he never in a million years wanted but went along with because it was important to Kirishima and Kirishima was important to him. So he humored him and now he was standing in this giant fucking hall surrounded by all this beautiful shit and all these stupidly happy people, pro heroes, family, and ugh, okay, friends…And this whole time he thought he was doing it for Kirishima.

But this whole time Kirishima was doing it for him. To show the whole fucking world how much he loved him.

Fuck.

His chest tightened and he thought he might throw up. In a good way. Who the fuck throws up ‘in a good way’? He impulsively reached for Kirishima’s hand to anchor him from the dizziness of his thoughts. Their fingertips brushed. “Something wrong?”

“Congratulations!” came the loud yell complete with smack on the back. Bakugo pitched forward slightly, scowl comfortably back on his face, secretly welcoming the distraction.

“Fuckin’ thanks, dickwad.”

“Now, now,” Mineta leered. “You kiss your husband with that filthy mouth?”

“He seems to like it,” Aoyama chimed in. “Congratulations!” He threw up a handful of silver confetti.

“Listen, you may have stolen the title of Hero Team I’d Most Want to Join For A Double Date, but cherish it while it lasts, because it won’t be long until we’re back on top.”

“Is that even a real award? I guess we’ve won so much stupid shit I’ve lost track.”

Mineta’s eyes narrowed. “It’s your wedding, so I won’t punch you—”

“Friends of yours, Katsuki?” 

“Oh, you must be Bakugo-kun’s sister.” Mineta’s eyes lit up and he took her hand to kiss it.

“Nope, his mom.” She slipped her hand away. Firmly. “Who are you?” When Mineta just started sputtering something about being the famous ikemen hero, she didn’t wait for a better answer, instead turning to the grooms. “My boys! That was pretty racy. Good job, Katsuki,” she gave a lewd grin and waggled her eyebrows. “Your dad got it all on video. Dunno if we can actually hear your vows over his blubbering but, well, that’s why I love him. And I love both of you.”

“Eijiro?” a soft voice ventured from behind her.

Kirishima’s eyes lit up. “Mom! You made it! I didn’t think you’d come!”

No matter how many times Bakugo saw Kirishima’s mom, he was always struck by how plain she was. Not ugly, not pretty, not tall, not short. Just plain. 

“Of course I’d come! It’s your wedding!” she said, sounding a little exasperated. 

“I know, I know!” Kirishima laughed, hugging his mom. Bakugo figured that despite being plain, she must be stronger than she looked; he didn’t hear any ribs cracking. Yet. 

“Ah! Kirishima-san!” Bakugo’s mom said after Kirishima released his mom from his death grip.

“Hello, Bakugo-san. It has been a while. Thank you for taking care of my son.”

“Of course! He’s the easy one!” She went to ruffle Kirishima’s hair but thought better of it and gave his arm a squeeze instead, then gave Bakugo a pat on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go find your father.” She looked again at Kirishima’s mother. “Come find us when you’re done; I’m dying to chat and my husband would love to see you. Assuming his eyes aren’t swollen shut from crying.”

Kirishima’s mom bowed again, waiting until Bakugo’s mom was out of sight before turning to Bakugo. “Thank you, Katsuki-kun, for always taking such good care of Eijiro.” She started tearing up. “Eijiro’s always tried to be so strong for everyone else. He’s never asked for anything for himself. Thank you—” the tears started pouring down her cheeks. “Thank you for making my son so happy.”

 

“It’s weird,” Midoriya said, taking a break from dancing and sitting next to Torodoki.

“Hm?”

Midoriya gestured in the general direction of Bakugo and Kirishima. “I’ve never seen Bakugo smile this much.”

Todoroki nodded. “I didn’t know he could. I had wondered if maybe being angry was a side effect of his Quirk or something.” Midoriya laughed but then realized Todoroki was being serious. “Anyway,” Torodoki said with a small smile, “I’m glad.”

“Glad?”

“Yeah. I didn’t grow up with...that. I don’t really understand it. But it looks...nice.”

“Aw, Torodoki-kun...”

Torodoki looked at the notebook in Midoriya’s scarred hand. “What are you writing now— Oh. Bakugo was right. You did time it and write it down. He knows you pretty well.”

 

Epilogue

“What time is it?” Kirishima groaned. 

“Seven. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re coming back to bed, right?” Kirishima threw an arm over his eyes to block out the morning sun.

“Are you kidding? We only went to sleep like two hours ago. Of course I’m fucking coming back to bed. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Why are you grabbing my hand? You want to snuggle? What are you even doing—” Kirishima cracked open his eyes and looked at his hand, squinting to focus. Then his eyes flew open. “Where did you get this?”

“What do you mean, where did I get it? I fucking bought it for you. Isn’t that what you do when you get married? Buy each other rings or some shit?”

“Well, usually you exchange rings during the actual ceremony—”

“You fucking complaining? I can take it back.”

“No!” Kirishima said, protecting his fist against his chest just in case Bakugo tried to wrestle the ring off his finger. “I just can’t believe you got me one.”

Bakugo snorted, flopping back on the bed. “Of course I did. I’m the world’s best husband.”

Kirishima grinned. “How could I forget. World’s best with less than twenty-four hours on the job. Such an over-achiever.” He looked again at the ring on his finger. “Damn. That’s the inscription I should’ve put on your ring. ‘To my explosive over-achiever.’”

“Sounds a lot nicer than what I put on yours. ‘Hot chest, stupid hair.’”

“You did not!” Kirishima punched him in the arm before taking off his ring and angling it so the inside caught the light peeking in through the window.

“Hey, asshole, where’s mine?” Bakugo grumped.

“You really want one?”

“It’s not fair that you get to read my embarrassing shit if I don’t read yours.”

“Okay,” Kirishima grinned, rolling over and fishing the box out of the nightstand drawer. Still lying in bed, he opened the box slowly. “Bakugo Katsuki, will you—”

“Just fucking give it to me.”

“Oh, I’ll give it to you, alright.”

For all that Bakugo was the more quick-witted of the two—or maybe because he was used to being the more quick-witted of the two—Kirishima’s occasional teasing one-liners of bedroom banter caught him off guard. He didn’t know if it was the actual subject matter or the unexpected nature of it but he hated the fact it set his face on fire pretty much every time. 

“I fucking hate you.”

Kirishima burst out laughing, catching Bakugo’s hand mid-punch. He unfolded Bakugo’s fingers, kissing the knuckle of the ring finger before sliding on the ring. He had loved the way Bakugo’s ring looked on his hand but now, looking at his ring on Bakugo’s finger…he could understand why people did this. He felt an uncharacteristic surge of possessiveness rise up in his chest. Mine.

Bakugo, of course, unceremoniously slipped it right back off and peered at the inside, trying to read the tiny words.

“What makes you think there’s an inscription? Maybe I couldn’t think of anything—”

“You had to put something. You love this sappy shit,” Bakugo said matter-of-factly. And he was right.

My Greatest Victory

Bakugo stilled. He had been prepared to say something teasing or light-hearted or—something. But all he could do was look over at Kirishima.

Kirishima shrugged and smiled awkwardly, not really sure if Bakugo was happy or disappointed. “You’re amazing,” he blurted. “And I think that every time I look at you. Sometimes it’s hard being around you because you are, like, victory incarnate. You radiate it. You’re so cool and so good at everything and so passionate and intense. And every day I look at you and think how lucky I am to be with you. That winning you over was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he flashed a grin, “but also what I’m most proud of. You’re my greatest victory.” He winked. “Get it?”

“How do you say this shit with a straight face?” Bakugo groaned, burying his face into his pillow. 

“Because I mean it!” Kirishima kissed Bakugo’s shoulder. “Do you not like it? I put a lot of thought into it.”

“I can tell,” Bakugo mumbled. “Who knew you had it in you.”

“Hey!” Kirishima laughed, taking the ring from Bakugo’s hand and putting it back on his finger, kissing his fingertips for good measure. “Now, let’s see...” He angled his ring to catch the light. “It better not be anything mean.”

Bakugo watched Kirishima’s face intently, waiting for that moment when his expression changed.

Kirishima stared at him, shocked. “What..?”

“You said it to me when we first got together—”

“You were asleep!”

Bakugo gave him a condescending look, betrayed slightly by the blush creeping across his cheeks. “I was pretending to be asleep. You always say shit to me when you think I can’t hear you. Anyway,” Bakugo took a deep breath. “I really liked it. And I just thought…I thought, well, you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep. You’re my best friend. And—” he swallowed, forcing himself to make eye contact. “You’re the only one I want. Then, now, forever.” 

Kirishima blinked, eyes wet. He reached for Bakugo, to pull him into his chest—

“Don’t you dare fucking cry on me.”

Kirishima laughed, squeezing his arms around his husband. “You’re so sweet.”

“I will fucking kill you,” Bakugo threatened. “Now, put this back on,” he took the ring from Kirishima and surprisingly gently returned it to his finger, “and go back to sleep.”

“Mmkay,” Kirishima nuzzled the crook of Bakugo’s neck. “I love you.”

“If you love me so much, let me fucking sleep!” Bakugo felt Kirishima smile against his skin. Then he grumbled in a whisper, “I love you too.”

Kirishima fell asleep smiling, the cold metal around his finger, precious words hidden against the skin underneath. 

First. Best. Only.