Chapter Text
Eijirou would like to argue that one of the worst feelings in the world is getting into an argument with someone and having no idea what you did wrong.
Not in a narcissistic way, of course. He knew he was prone to his own mistakes and shortcomings. He knew he valued things that some people might hate, like hanging out with his friends, or grabbing dinner with his moms, or working out at the gym he /worked/ at on his days off.
He knew those were things that drove his girlfriend up the wall, and truly he tried to mitigate the damage done when he did those things. She was okay with him seeing his moms every other week. She was cool with Eijirou hanging out with the squad, so long as she was coming with to make sure she knew who he was hanging out with. And the gym thing? Well, he just used his hour-long lunch break to get some reps in.
And all of those things were discussed and agreed upon, even though Eijirou had no rules for his girlfriend, Hana, to follow in return.
So truly he didn’t understand why she dumped him. Again. Because it’s sort of a recurring thing at this point. They’re on and then they’re off. They fight and then they fuck. Hana will say the cruelest words and then come back a week later telling him he made it all up, or he took it to heart when it was just useless blabbering out of anger.
He didn’t understand, and it’s been like this for over a year now. Eijirou can’t think of a month out of this year that he hadn’t gotten in trouble and been dumped, only to get whiplash as Hana comes back a week later saying she’ll stay if he tries harder to keep her.
It’s probably not healthy. He should probably call it quits, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to give up on a relationship that took so much stress to make work.
So, instead of wallowing in self pity, like he usually does when Hana called him a loser with absolutely no good qualities, he decided he’d try and make things right himself.
She wanted him to try harder, to show her he really truly wanted her in his life, so what better way to show that then buy her some flowers, and clean up his apartment to make a beautiful dinner for the two of them to share?
“Those are no good,” a voice arose from his side.
Flowers probably deserve some sort of condolence for being a gift that idiots buy when they can’t make their girlfriends happy. They’re beautiful little things, sitting in his calloused, thick hands. Part of him knew they’d be treated poorly by Hana, because nothing was ever really good enough for her. But he had to at least try.
Eijirou sat crouched at a flower shop today, digging through the various buckets of flowers to find the ones that went together nicely for a bouquet.
Honestly he was doing a shit job.
He flicked his eyes over to the side to find a young girl, probably not more than five years old, standing there watching him. She was adorable, like most five year olds, but she had a look to her that told Eijirou she probably had parents that really, really cared about her. The girl’s hair was wound tightly in little braids starting at the top of her head and then splitting off into pig tails of fluffy blonde hair. Her eyes were a piercing red that watched him intently, almost like she truly knew more about this than Eijirou.
Not like it was hard. Eijirou had roses mixed with a bunch of blue flowers, all cluttered together like a train wreck in his hands.
“No good?” He raised a brow, smiling at the young child.
The little girl put her tiny hands in the front pockets of the adorable pink apron she wore before exclaiming, “No good! Horrible idea!”
He laughed earnestly, though a part of him felt a bit let down to know that he couldn’t even pick out flowers correctly. According to Hana he couldn’t do anything right. Maybe these flowers would only make her angrier.
“And why’s that?” Eijirou raised his brows at her.
“You’re supposed to put little flowers around the big ones, like these,” she pulled some small white flowers from a water bucket off to the side.
She really did know a thing or two. Eijirou peered off to the side while the little girl grabbed the flowers from his hand. Where was her mother? Surely she didn’t work here, and surely someone wouldn’t let their daughter wander off alone to a flower shop.
When he looked down, the little girl had made a bouquet that somehow looked nicer than Eijirou’s.
“Huh, it does look prettier that way doesn’t it?” He grinned before grabbing the bundle of flowers.
She smiled, looking up at him once again with those gorgeous red irises. They were so similar to his own, yet there were small flecks of golden orange, making them a little brighter. She was so small, hardly making it to his own shoulders despite the fact that Eijirou was crouched on the ground.
“What’s your name?” The redhead asked. If she was lost, he would never forgive himself for ignoring her.
The little girl seemed to struggle a moment internally, like she trusted Eijirou enough to tell him what her name was, but also remembered the stranger danger rule that everyone preached to their children.
“‘Sumi? You out there?”
A rough, gravely, and somewhat out of breath voice called from the doorway of the flower section. Inside there were house plants, and outside there sat outdoor plants and fruit trees.
“By the baby’s breath!” Katsumi yelled back.
Eijirou had about half a second to connect the dots before the owner of the voice was stumbling in, having pots stacked in each arm all the way up to his face. Eijirou could only make out a tuft of blonde hair and the baggy jeans the other man sported.
“I told you that’s too far out of my sight, you can’t play back here—“
The blonde’s lecture was cut short as a few of the potted plants in his hands started to slide off to the side, obviously not balanced safely and probably causing the man to exert more strength than necessary.
Eijirou was on his feet in seconds, grabbing the pots frantically to keep them from falling. He set each of them off to a table at his side, and as the stack dwindled he came face to face with what he could only describe as—
“Beautiful.”
The words left his mouth before he even realized it, before he even had time to process what that meant and why he’d said it. It had come so easily. Like a knee jerk reaction, like it was second nature to human beings to call this man beautiful.
Those same golden, red eyes that the little girl held were mirrored in the man in front of him, though the man’s were much thinner and more delicate. His skin was soft with faint speckles of freckles from working in the hot sun all day, Eijirou assumed. He was shorter than Eijirou, probably reaching his bottom lip, but what he lacked in height he made up for in toned arms and lean muscles.
“Thank you,” the blonde nodded once a good amount of the pots were taken off his arms and he was able to set the rest down.
Eijirou held his breath, hoping to whatever god was above that he wouldn’t get punched in the face for randomly calling a dude he just met beautiful.
That was normal right? Surely a man can point out another man’s beauty in a totally friendly, bro sort of way. His sweaty hands and clenched jaw told another story though. One Eijirou didn’t have time to dissect at the moment.
An awkward bout of silence passed, before the blonde grabbed the little girl—his sister Eijirou assumed— and pulled her behind him.
Oh fuck. He looked like a creep!
“Oh, no, I wasn’t,” Eijirou put his hands up, a cold sweat running down his spine at the implication. “Like, I was just, /we/ were just.”
One of his hands flailed as he tried and failed to explain that he wasn’t a creep, just a really shitty boyfriend who had no talent and needed help from the dude’s little sister to make a simple bouquet that would hopefully make his girlfriend view him as worthy.
His finger brushed against a pot filled with purple flowers that trailed up a vine— orchids he thinks— and accidentally knocked it halfway off the shelf. He grabbed it frantically, steadying it before he could embarrass himself even more.
For a moment Eijirou really debated leaving the store entirely and basically moving countries.
But then the other man laughed and shook his head. Obviously not impressed with the stupidity.
Even his huff of laughter was perfect. How did guys like him exist? Surely he was what every girl wanted in a man. Maybe when the guy’s little sister wasn’t around he could ask.
“She was helping me with the flower choice. She said these would look nicer,” Eijirou admitted with his head hung low.
The blonde nodded, suddenly interested in the conversation. His brows raised as he took up the flowers from his little sister.
“Good choice ‘Sooms,” the man pulled the flowers closer to his face to inspect them.
‘Sumi? ‘Sooms? We’re they nicknames? The little girl's name was ‘Sumi? This man was strange, a totally different person than the usual people Eijirou encountered around this town.
And yet somehow despite the fact that Eijirou hadn’t even met him, he felt entirely invested in this strange man with cute nicknames for his sister, and beautiful flowers surrounding him.
Eijirou couldn’t help but watch him like an extinct creature reintroduced to the public for the first time. He was admiring him, in a totally normal, straight person sort of way.
In a way that other men often looked at each other and thought ‘wow, how did someone end up so beautifully perfect while I look like a crawled out of a garbage can and just barely brushed my hair for my shift at work’. Totally normal.
“Is it for someone?”
“Uh, my girlfriend. Well, ex-girl friend. We’re broken up right now, but I think we’ll get back together,” he stumbled over each word, suddenly pulled from the captivation the other man lured him towards. “I think.”
“Sounds stressful,” the man offered, though he didn’t seem entirely too interested. He probably asked everyone that question.
“Nah it’s fine. We always do this,” Eijirou shrugged.
That earned him some attention, in the form of an off put face from the blonde, “Right.”
Then he took the blue flowers out of the middle and tried to insert a purplish blue flower.
“Switch these out for these.”
“Wait! Those are cool, I want those,” Eijirou halted the other man’s movement.
“Bluebells? These signify humility.”
“Signify? Flowers don’t have a meaning, you pick ‘em and put them in a vase,” Eijirou crunched his nose in confusion.
He really just needed to get the flowers, go home, make dinner for his girlfriend and then forget about the weird creeping feeling in his chest that this guy gave him.
“Okay,” the blonde shrugged, once again seeming like he couldn’t care less. He handed them back to his little sister, who took them with a practiced hand. “‘Sooms go ask Uncle Deku to tie these.”
Eijirou felt a smile crawl to his lips against his will. What a cute nickname. The blonde man seemed to have many for his little sister, and Eijirou found that despite his rather harsh demeanor the man’s love for the little girl brought out a certain fondness others might’ve missed at a glance.
When the girl left, it was just the two of them. Even the blonde’s aura eluded to such a higher level of maturity, or rather wisdom that Eijirou couldn’t seem to find in his life. Like the blonde was more experienced in living than him.
“Good luck with your ex,” was all the blonde said, before tending to the flowers off to the side.
—
They didn’t work.
Well he wouldn’t say that the flowers were necessarily at fault for the giant fight that happened when his girlfriend got home, but the broken vase on the floor definitely wasn’t a win.
It’s been all but three days.
Three days since he sat in this shop for a good forty five minutes, analyzing each flower, trying to make something wonderful for his girlfriend to come home to.
But she hadn’t come home that night, or the next. When she did finally arrive home, demanding they get back together, Eijirou obeyed and gave her the flowers. For a moment she was happy, for a moment he thought he’d finally done something right. She’d smiled so brightly once they were in her hands.
The problem was what she said after, and how Eijirou reacted to it.
“Hello again,” he announced upon entering the flower room of the shop.
His eyes immediately fell to the little blonde girl, ‘Sumi, if he remembered correctly. She was still in her adorable little pink apron, though today her parents tied it up in a poof of blonde at the top of her head, with tiny star charms and clips at the base. She was watering the outdoor flowers with a small, toy watering can that had been filled, probably by her older brother.
He pretended the goosebumps on his arm arose from the outdoor fan nearby, not because of the mere thought of ‘Sumi’s older brother.
“Hello!” She smiled excitedly when she saw him, running up to him like they’d been friends for a while.
Eijirou was grateful she existed. As pathetic as it was, after the fight with Hana, it felt good to know he meant something to someone, even if it was just a little girl from a flower shop.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you work here,” he teased.
He hoped she couldn’t see the puffiness of his eyes, or the way his hair hadn’t been maintained lately and instead sat in a low ponytail exposing his roots that needed major attention.
Eijirou picked up a bundle of what he remembered as baby’s breath, and a bundle of tulips. Then he cuddled with the stems until they were all tangled together as a bouquet.
“What do you think?”
‘Sumi scrunched her nose, “I think you should ask for help.”
As if on cue, her older brother walked inside the flower room. He had dirt all over his apron, shovels in the front pockets, and flower petals tangled in his thick blonde locks of hair.
“Back so soon?” The man raised his brows upon seeing Eijirou.
“Maybe bluebells weren’t the right choice,” he sighed.
If you asked, Eijirou wouldn’t be able to explain why he got that shaky feeling in his fingers when the other man entered the room. He was one of those people who silently demanded the attention of everyone nearby, whether he realized it or not. Eijirou had never been one of those people. He’d never even been able to demand the attention of his girlfriend.
Maybe that’s why she slept with someone else.
“Hm, are you sure it’s the flowers' fault?” The man scrunched his nose, eerily similar to his little sister.
When Eijirou really looked closely, there was absolutely nothing separating the two's appearance, aside from the man’s eyes being much more slender. If he got closer, Eijirou could see the chiseled cheekbones that the little girl obviously lacked. If he squinted he could see the tiny dip in the man’s nose that ‘Sumi would surely develop when she grew older.
Was he close? Eijirou felt like maybe he was too close.
“Any suggestions?” Eijirou cleared his throat, leaning back a fraction to lean against a table of flowers.
The man swung his head towards him with a daring grin, “Oh you're ready for those now?”
And holy shit, he was definitely too close. Had it not been for the height difference, their noses would’ve brushed against each other. Instead he could only feel the man’s breath against his chin.
He nodded breathlessly, begging his face to stop heating up.
The blonde hummed in response, snatching the horrible attempt of a bouquet from Eijirou’s hands and picking it apart. It was relatively silent from a moment, only the sounds of ‘Sumi watering the small pots towards the front of the room, and the green haired man in the house plant section talking to another customer.
“What’d you do?”
The question came quietly, almost like the man knew he was pushing it to ask, though there was still some sort of concern in his voice that told Eijirou he was genuine.
Fuck, what /did/ he do? Why did he deserve this? Why, after everything? After catering to her every need, after pushing away friends and hardly visiting his mothers. After everything he’d sacrificed, what did he do to deserve this?
“When we were on a break she met this other guy and they,” Eijirou chanced a glance at ‘Sumi, making sure she couldn’t hear. “Shared a night together. I was really upset and she got angry that I was upset.”
At that, the blonde dropped his arms, letting the flowers hit the tops of his thighs gently.
“So you’re getting her flowers to win her back?” He asked.
His face looked disappointed. Eijirou hated that. Despite hardly knowing the other man, there was a piece of him that didn’t want to be the one to make him look so unamused.
“No, the flowers are an apology for getting angry,” he admitted.
When he said it out loud, he understood the blonde's confused face.
“Getting angry because she slept with another man in the week that you two were apart?”
Eijirou didn’t have it in him to answer.
Because he knew it was wrong. He knew Hana shouldn’t have slept with someone else after they broke up, if her end goal was to get back together with Eijirou. He also knew that if Eijirou had done that, if he had slept with a girl while they were on a break, he would’ve gotten ripped to shreds by Hana.
“Doesn’t seem fair to you,” the blonde pulled him back to reality.
It’s the first time their eyes have locked. The first time the intense, all knowing scarlet has met Eijirou soft, docile ruby.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
He lied. Of course. It’s what he did best. He lied to everyone about Hana. They were awful together and awful apart, and somehow Eijirou had grown comfortable in that vicious cycle. He’d grown used to it.
Until now. Until she slept with another man and demanded Eijirou ignore how hurt he felt. If he thought about it too much, he thought he’d cry again, and he really didn’t feel like crying in front of the literal Angel standing in front of him.
Said Angel must’ve noticed, because instead of asking what the hell was wrong with Eijirou, he let it go.
“So, flowers that say ‘I’m sorry for being upset that it took you four days to get over me’?”
“I guess so,” the redhead shrugged his shoulders.
“You’re in luck! I have just the thing.”
The man’s sarcasm should’ve probably annoyed him, but instead Eijirou found himself laughing.
Maybe it was the beautiful flowers, or the precious little girl and her tiny watering pot, or the friendly green haired man that greeted him when he walked in. Maybe those were the reasons his heart had suddenly started to beat at a normal rate after hours of playing dead at his apartment. Maybe that’s why his lungs finally filled with air after barely working last night. Maybe that’s why his puffy eyes were starting to calm down and for the first time in the last couple days he didn’t feel like sobbing violently.
He followed the blonde towards the front of the store, where he’d spend another twenty bucks on flowers for someone that constantly hurt him.
Eijirou knew it wasn’t really any of those things. Maybe, partially it was all of those reasons.
But he didn’t have it in him to address the real reason, which stood in front of him confident, a little cocky, secure in his place behind the counter.
“You okay?” The blonde asked, not looking up from the register as he rang up the total.
“Ah, yeah, you know. Things are just hard,” he swallowed thickly.
After this, he’d have to go home.
He didn’t live with Hana but she had stayed the night last night after they agreed they’d work on things /again/. Eijirou couldn’t help but dread it. Going home felt heavy, and dark. It felt like crawling back to a grave.
Would it be so bad to stay here? Where he didn’t have to demand attention from the man in front of him? Where he could silently exist, maybe rest his head, or listen to the man’s little sister talk about flowers? Would it be so bad if he chose to stay where he could breathe?
“Hard and bad are two different things.”
Eijirou frowned in confusion, “What?”
“Nothing, I just,” the blonde shook his head, and for a moment Eijirou swore he saw a feeling of apprehension across the man’s features.
“I hope you’re smart enough to know that hard and bad aren’t the same thing. Something could be really hard, like growing plants, but that doesn’t make it bad. Forgiving your girlfriend isn’t that hard, but forgiving her for cheating is bad.”
“You think so?” Eijirou tilted his head.
It’s the first time in a while he’d heard someone actually side with him. He’d stopped telling his mothers what his relationship was truly like after the first few months. His friends never had anything good to say to begin with, but they didn’t give advice, they just judged or reminded Eijirou of how much they hated Hana.
“Sometimes you just need to know when to bail, don’t you think,” the blonde shrugged his shoulders.
There was something there. Something tangled within those words that Eijirou wasn’t close enough to decipher. Something that eluded to the idea that maybe the blonde wasn’t actually as perfect as he seemed. Maybe he’d experienced his own personal hell.
I don’t know who I am without her,” Eijirou admitted.
“I don’t think any of us really know who we are until we’re forced into a mold.”
Was he fitting in a mold? Had he pushed himself into a box, trying to fit a standard for Hana?
“‘Sumi, give him his flowers,” the blonde handed off his bouquet to the little girl that had joined him.
“Thank you, ‘Sumi,” he nodded, though his head felt too full of new information to really move at all. “And thank you, uh?”
“Bakugou,” the blonde— Bakugou— supplied.
Eijirou smiled, “Thanks Bakugou.”
—
Hey! It's you!”
The little girl's voice was becoming quite familiar to Eijirou at this point.
He smiled, trying to hide the genuine excitement he felt upon entering the flower shop.
“It is me!”
“Who are you?” ‘Sumi put her hands on her hips and raised a brow.
Today she wore her hair down, bangs clipped on either side of her forehead with bunnies on each one.
He laughed at the way her mannerism mimicked her older brothers. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou, who are you again?”
“You know me, I’m ‘Sumi,” she giggled. “Are you buying flowers again?”
“Unfortunately I am,” Eijirou nodded.
He really didn’t have to buy flowers. He and Hana had gotten in a fight, sure, but he could’ve gone without the flowers for this one.
Part of him assumed that once again, it’s manly to buy your girlfriend flowers after a fight.
Another part of him, a larger part of him, wanted to come back and see the shop owners.
“Did the other ones go bad,” ‘Sumi asked as she guided Eijirou back to the flower section.
“Yeah, something like that.”
It was practiced footwork at this point. He hadn’t been here in about a week, but Eijirou could remember exactly where the baby’s breath was and he probably didn’t need help from ‘Sumi or Bakugou to wrap a bouquet.
Coming here was a breath of fresh air that had little to do with the copious amounts of plants, and more to do with the wonderful blonde man currently standing in the middle of the flower room. Eijirou wouldn’t exactly call them the best of friends, or honestly friends at all.
But it felt so /good/ to be around Bakugou. He was visiting in the same way he’d visit Denki at the coffee shop, or Mina at the record store she managed. He was just popping in to say hello.
He’s not sure why he had to keep convincing himself of that.
“It's becoming alarming that you're here talking to my daughter again,” Bakugou put a hand on his hip, way too casual for the bomb he just dropped on Eijirou.
“Daughter?” He raised his brows.
“Fucking obviously,” Bakugou frowned before motioning over to ‘Sumi, his /daughter/.
Eijirou had many, many questions but his brain was way too slow to comprehend.
“I thought she was your little sister!”
“Nope, she’s my offspring,” Bakugou generously supplied.
“Y-You’re pretty young to be a dad,” Eijirou pointed out.
He had assumed that the two of them were about the same age, but now he was beginning to question that. If Bakugou had a five year old then he had to be old, right?
“And you’re pretty young to be in a loveless relationship,” Bakugou clapped back.
“Mean.”
“Right back at you.”
Eijirou shook his head, “That wasn’t my intention, I was just surprised! You’re so young. You can’t be more than twenty four, right?”
“I’ll be twenty four in April,” the man nodded.
He was currently tending to a new shelf that had been pressed against the wall of the already cluttered area. Eijirou noted that once again, there was no embarrassment, or shame in the others' voice as he admitted that he was quite young to have a five year old.
Eijirou liked that about Bakugou. He was who he was, and if someone didn’t like or agree with it then that was their problem.
“And I’m five!” Katsumi exclaimed.
Bakugou and Eijirou exchanged a glance for a moment before chuckling softly at Sumi's obliviousness.
The blonde pointed to the other room, “‘Sooms, grab one of the pothos on the bottom shelf.”
Eijirou tried to stay chill about it. The man had a kid and that was fine. Eijirou didn’t really care about that, he really liked ‘Sumi.
“So then, do you have a wife?” He felt himself ask before he could stop himself.
“Nah.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No, Shitty Hair, I have no one. It’s just me and my kid.”
Eijirou wasn’t sure why a rush of relief flooded his system upon hearing that. Was he really that pathetic that he wanted Bakugou to suffer romantically just because he was?
“Sorry,” Eijirou said. “What happened?”
“None of your business,” Bakugou muttered, not glancing at him as he twisted a dead leaf off of his plant.
“Come on man. I’m just now finding out you’re an actual human being and not a specimen sent down from a deity,” he sighed dramatically.
“Very funny, Red,” Bakugou gave him an unimpressed look.
“It’s not funny, it’s unfair! You’re perfect.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he glared, but Eijirou could see the tell tale signs of a blush on the blonde’s cheeks.
He’s not sure why that sent a thrill up his spine either.
“Fine.”
Bakugou grabbed a few flowers and started to twist them together into a bouquet that Eijirou forgot he was purchasing.
“So how are you?” The man asked quietly.
“We’re better, I guess. She’s still mad,” Eijirou shrugged.
“That’s not what I asked. I asked how /you/ are,” the blonde hissed.
“I’m,” Eijirou started but then pursed his lips. No one has asked him that before.
“I'm still really upset, but I’m trying to forgive her.”
“Why?” Bakugou shook his head.
“I don’t know. Because it’s what she wants me to do.”
Bakugou let out a sign as he grabbed the paper liners for the bouquet. “You know, most people would say they’re trying to forgive their lover because they love them. Don’t you think it means something that wasn’t the first place your head went?”
And, well, Eijirou hadn’t really thought of it like that.
But honestly there hasn’t been love in their relationship in a while. Love was something Eijirou had to constantly beg for, or earn. It was something he only got when he bought Hana expensive jewelry, or made grand gestures.
“How’re you so full of wisdom?” He asked, trying his best to change the topic.
“Some people actually call it common sense,” the blonde walked away.
“Mean,” he mumbled before following. “I just want to make her happy.”
“At the expense of your own happiness,” Bakugou added as he walked behind the counter.
“I am happy,” Eijirou lied.
At that the blonde said nothing. He raised his brows, like he was thinking about saying something, but then he started ringing up the total. Eijirou had silently grown to hate the sound of the cash register. The ding of the buttons was a warning that it was almost time for Eijirou to leave the shop. If he stayed any longer it would just be weird.
And he really doesn’t want Bakugou to think he is weird, or annoying, or anything less.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said suddenly.
“Try me,” the blonde set the bouquet down.
Eijirou pretended not to clam up at the sudden devotion of the other man’s attention. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that someone is actually paying attention to him, but a year with his girlfriend proved that undivided attention was something he’d have to earn through unnecessary standards.
“You think that I should just give up. I should know that this shit is over because she’s stopped trying.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Bakugou shook his head.
Oh. Eijirou felt his face start to heat up. Maybe it wasn’t Bakugou that was thinking it. Maybe it was Eijirou.
“I was thinking you don’t deserve to not know who you are.”
Eijirou raised his brows.
Bakugou was talking about the other day, when Eijirou had told him he didn’t know who he was without Hana.
It was so raw, so unscripted. Eijirou felt himself grow shocked at the sheer kindness of the statement itself.
Bakugou cared about him as a person. Not a customer. He cared that Eijirou felt lost.
It made his heart lurch in his chest. He swallowed quickly before licking his lips. Eijirou didn’t know how to respond to that. What do you say back to that? How do you respond to someone that’s telling you that you deserve more?
“Gonna tip?” Bakugou broke his train of thought, shoving a plastic container his way.
“You guys work for commissions?” Eijirou raised a brow.
The blonde twisted the jar to show the paper taped against it.
‘College fund’
“Nah, but I’m trying to send ‘Sumi to university. Help out a single parent,” Bakugou smiled as he handed Eijirou his flowers.
“She’s five,” Eijirou laughed.
He was already grabbing his wallet.
It was strange, the way he already cared about ‘Sumi so much despite the fact that they’d only just met a few weeks ago.
“Gotta start somewhere,” Bakugou shrugged.
“Oh and,” the blonde turned around, reaching for a bundle of flowers. “Here.”
“I didn’t order these,” Eijirou frowned, looking down at the beautiful bouquet.
He shoved a bill into the college fund before picking them up and examining them.
“I know,” Bakugou nodded, only furthering Eijirou confusion. “You buy a lot of flowers, but it doesn’t sound like you’re getting shit in return.”
Holy shit. Eijirou was about to stop functioning. He could already feel how red his face was.
“They’re for me? From you?”
“And ‘Sooms,” Bakugou motioned towards his daughter.
Bakugou gave him flowers.
Bakugou wanted to give him flowers.
“How did you know I’d be coming in today,” he sputtered out a response.
The blonde bit back a smile, obviously trying not to laugh at the blushing mess Eijirou had become.
“Lucky guess.”
They’re just flowers. It shouldn’t mean anything.
But it does. It really really does, because not even Hana has cared enough to put together flowers for him.
“What sort of flower are they?” He swallowed, trying to be normal about this.
“These are azaleas,” Bakugou explained.
“What do they mean?”
“I thought you said that flowers held no meaning,” the blonde raised his brow, obviously teasing Eijirou.
“That was before I met a really smart guy at a flower shop,” Eijirou laughed.
“A /beautiful/ flower shop according to you,” Bakugou scrunched his nose once again.
Eijirou thought he might spontaneously combust.
Bakugou had heard him say beautiful the other day. Thank fuck he thought he was talking about the flowers and not Bakugou’s, very pretty, face.
“Ah, so you did hear that?” Eijirou sighed, trying to play it off.
“I did. I’m glad you think my flowers are beautiful.”
“Yeah yeah,” Eijirou shook his head, trying to change the subject before he’d have to admit that he wasn’t talking about the Flowers that day. “So? What do the azaleas mean?”
“You’ll have to pick up a book and find out I guess,” Bakugou closed his eyes and shook his head.
This guy was such a tease. Eijirou probably looked like such an idiot. A blushing idiot.
“Thank you,” he rolled his eyes despite the giant smile plastered to his face.
Eijirou can’t remember the last time he’d smiled so big.
When he left there was a twinge in his chest. A feeling of some sort of weight lifted off his shoulders, and a stammering in his heart he hadn’t felt in over a year. It was new, something he had no name for. Eijirou wanted to chalk it up to the fact that he’s made a new friend that enjoys his presence, but part of him also knew it was a bit more than that.
Maybe a bit of a crush.
He’d never had a crush on a man before, and was never one to seek out men for relationships. But there was something about Bakugou. Something about the way he looked at him, like he mattered, like he was worth something. Something in the way he spoke to Eijirou like he was a person that deserved to speak. Bakugou cared about him silently, yet Eijirou didn’t have to guess whether or not he did.
They’d only just met a week or two ago, and now Eijirou was walking home with flowers.
When he arrived home he opened his laptop, feeling giddy like a high schooler. Bakugou had said to read a book, but Eijirou couldn’t possibly wait any longer. He typed in the name of the flower, and googled the meaning behind them.
And then he read it over and over. Again and again. Making sure he got each word right. Validating the way his heart broke and rebuilt over and over again. Letting each word sink into his heart and mend together all of the broken pieces.
‘Azalea: Take care of yourself for me’