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He watches the oven bake. It will take about an hour for it to be ready. Enough to give Dabi some time to make it back home to a bowl full of warm chocolate chip cookies.
Home.
Bakugou can't believe he is living with a villain. And spending Christmas with him. Bakugou wasn't even fond of Christmas, really. But Dabi insisted. Saying that he would look cute in a Santa hat. The walking patchwork, who was known to be a cold-hearted person, yet burns people for a living, said that it would be a nice twist to their nightly routine. Where staying up late and spending their time watching romcoms and baking sweets was the usual occurrence.
And who is he to not indulge in a little bit of fantasy in the harsh reality that they live in?
Bakugou sighed and turned to look at the door. He is taking too long. Where was Dabi? He said that he had to do something with the League. Dabi has been busy with the League lately. Whereas before, with every opportunity they had, they would lock themselves indoors and strip off their titles to make anew. They would look into each other's eyes and see an entirely new person. A person who is not a villain, nor a hero. A person that they can call home. A chest to lay their heads unto and hear the heartbeat that they know is beating for them.
So, yeah. Bakugou got a bit suspicious that Dabi would spend most of his time in the League's hideout and come back with the sun barely in the sky. Dabi said that they were doing preparations for the holidays. This would be Dabi's last commission before they take a break. Maybe commit arson, kill a person or two. He doesn't know. Who would have thought villains also celebrate holidays?
Not Bakugou.
That is why he was so confused when late November, Dabi started bringing home Christmas decorations. For a Christmas tree. That they didn't have.
"It's Christmas, doll," was Dabi's only explanation when Bakugou gave him a whole speech of why it doesn't make sense to buy Christmas decorations for a nonexistent tree. That is if Dabi did buy those. Maybe he just picked those up somewhere along the cold streets of the dark alley they live in. Along with the existence that is unknown to the rest of society yet has made a room to Bakugou's consciousness. Bakugou just left Dabi to his little shenanigans of trying to make their place fit for the occasion. As long as Dabi cleans up after himself, Bakugou would be fine with his hobby of making a home out of bits and pieces of decoratives that maybe, maybe, Bakugou finds adorable.
Bakugou watched the lights on their little Christmas tree twinkle. It's small. About two feet tall. It's decorated with fairy lights that have a few broken bulbs that don't light up, and filled with miniature gingerbread houses and trains. A few garlands that add contrast to the dark forest green of the tree.
It is the only thing that tells you that it's Christmas in their place. The only thing that lights up the room with a colorful glow that captures Bakugou's captivation.
And it's perfect.
It makes Bakugou feel a little warm inside. Despite the lack of a heater in this rundown apartment, the pitched painting on the walls, and the slow fall of snow outside. He can see the small puff of air every time he breathes and he feels warm. Because he knows that here, in their own universe, it's theirs. Bakugou can call this their own. And it forever will be.
Forever is a long time. And Bakugou will admittedly say that he does not have the confidence to promise such a commitment. But as Dabi continues to surprise him with the softness of a high criminal rate villain shouldn't have, and the security in his eyes that holds the stars in the sky that he strives to reach. Bakugou can't help but try.
Bakugou hears footsteps of boots covered in snow. Before, he would always tense whenever he hears a sound that wasn't caused by him or Dabi. He calls it instinct. Dabi calls it cute.
Letting go of the breath he didn't know he held, Bakugou opened the door to the person that made him accustomed to the odd sounds that come with living in a place where people do not speak of each other's names and to the smell of chocolate body spray mixed with burnt ash and smoke.
"I'm home, doll."
As red crept up to his ears and he inhaled the scent of dark chocolate, crimson eyes became moist and saw forever.