Chapter Text
About five minutes in the pilot lounge and a cup of overly expensive coffee, that’s the extent of Rody’s break before Pino hops over with a chirp, a constantly vibrating phone in her beak. Rody sighs, “That guy has never heard of a chill pill, has he?”, undeniably fond as he picks up the call.
“Rody Soul with Otheon Air, how may I—”
“You’re late”, the rough voice on the other side does not hesitate to remind him. Rody clamps the phone between his jaw and shoulder to grab his luggage in one hand and his coffee in the other, waving at his crew on the way out.
“Katsuki! A wonderful morning to you, too. How’s my favorite explosion man doing, hmm?”
Ah yes, the dulcet tones of Dynamight’s infamous growl. “Fuck off. Ten minutes, Terminal 2. Follow the screaming.”
Rody laughs. “Ominous, I like it. See ya in a few.”
Ten minutes later on the dot — because Rody can be on time, it’s not his fault the skies over Musutafu International were so busy today — he finds out for himself that Bakugou was, in fact, not exaggerating. Ahead, a huge commotion clogs up the natural flow of passengers to and from the various gates now laying behind Rody. The bits and pieces of Japanese he’s learned over the years help him decipher some of what’s being yelled.
“Mr. Dynamight! Mr. Dynamight, please, over here!”
“Dynamight, sir! Can I get your autograph?”
A ring of fans waves around pens and whatever piece of paper they could find in their haste, themselves surrounded by a handful of paparazzi — and at their midst, a familiar burst of ash blond. Bakugou has a pair of sunglasses pushed above his forehead and casual clothes on, an oversized sweater that reads Alien Queen across the sides and back in a stylized, neon pink font and jet-black leather leggings Rody recognizes from Earphone Jack’s latest merch drop. (That answers the question what’ll be trending on Social Media for the rest of the day.)
Face set into a scowl, he’s signing stuff for a selected few. Always going for the most shy kids first, he’s admitted to Rody in the past.
Squeezing past some of the crowd, Rody reports in English, “Ten minutes, Terminal 2, I have followed the screaming.” Bakugou glances up at him, huffs around the cap in his mouth, finishing up the violent dashes with which he likes to write his name for the public.
“There... Toko, was it? Take good care’a him for me, yeah?”
The girl — she can’t be older than what, six? Seven? — nods enthusiastically, clutching the freshly signed Dynamight plushie tightly to her chest. “Th-thank you, Mr. Might!”
A tiny smile. “Sure.”
Then Bakugou rights himself, snapping at the lingering photographers, “Alright, assholes, move it. Move, I ain’t askin’ again”, simply setting off in the direction he wants to go and parting the crowd with his presence alone.
Pino waves little Toko goodbye while Rody jogs a few steps to catch up. “Good to see you, man. Thanks for picking me up!”
“Mh”, grunts Bakugou, giving him a once-over before flipping his sunglasses down and gesturing for the duffle bag slung across Rody’s shoulder. Neither its considerable weight nor the Deku branding all over it seem to bother him. “Flight went okay?”
“Pff yeah, honestly I could fly it in my sleep by this point. It’s so unreal I won’t have to as much now.”
Unreal that this is not only the first step towards permanently moving to Japan, but doing so with a small velvet box tucked away in the breast pocket of his trench coat.
Soon.
That subtle smile is back on Bakugou’s lips, a reply in itself. Rody hasn’t seen him face-to-face in a year or two — too busy collecting miles in-between visits while Japan’s Number Two himself is in high demand nationally and internationally. It’s nice to see the distance hasn’t changed anything about their easy dynamic.
They walk through the whoosh of automatic doors. Outside, a precariously parked and incredibly red Toyota Prius awaits them, a Hero At Work caution sign perched clearly visible in the windshield to mitigate the lecture by the airport staff, most likely. The security personnel they come across give Bakugou the side-eye; that, too, Bakugou takes in stride.
“Throw your shit in the back. Don’t mind all the dog stuff, Eijirou’s the worst about hoarding it in his car.”
The warning is definitely warranted. Rody squeezes his huge suitcase next to three identical-looking dog beds and two sacks of treats, both opened for some reason. “Uhhh, isn’t Queen Bitch like... a tiny shiba?”
“She’s a menace, that’s what she is.”
The appearance of a new voice is unexpected to say the least. Blinking, Rody catches sight of— Isn’t that the blond guy from Class B? He can’t think of his actual name, but the Hero title Phantom Thief is too badass to forget.
Also: Why is he draped king-like and dramatic across the backseat of Bakugou’s car?
“Oh, hey! Fancy seeing you here!”
“Monoma Neito”, sniffs Phantom Thief with disdain. “And I will have you know I’ve been kidnapped, so if you could call the authorities, that would be much appreciated.”
Bakugou, who throws Rody’s duffle at his alleged victim before falling heavily into the driver’s seat, snorts. “We are the authorities, Copycat, stop whining already. Oi, Bird Brain, get a move on back there. Don’t you have a sappy-ass proposal to get to?”
“On it!”
The reminder has Rody’s heart tripping over itself, fidgeting in the shotgun seat with Pino in his lap. This really is happening, isn’t it? Somehow, planning it for months and months hasn’t fully prepared him for that.
Suddenly, a thick stack of papers is slapped on his bouncing knee. “Flight permits. One day lease on an N28505 aircraft. Confirmation of the 4:55 to 5:15 time window by Musutafu air traffic control. Check your inbox, I reserved a table for two at The Loft until 8PM. Four Seasons confirmed your room, right? Panoramic Suite?”
Rody yelps a “Yes!”, a bit overwhelmed. Behind him, he can hear the rustling of movement before Monoma pops up in-between the front seats, obnoxiously and purposefully nosy.
“Hold on. What kind of proposal requires that much government clearance?”
“Skywriting”, Bakugou and Rody reply in unison, though Rody’s voice is a bit breathless. A quick scan over the documents proves they’re bilingual in English and Japanese, ensuring Rody will understand what he’s signing off on — something Rody didn’t request or even know was possible, and that has his appreciation rocketing to the moon.
It strikes him all the more just how much paperwork must’ve gone into organizing this.
“Katsuki... Man, this is incredible. You’re incredible. I owe you one for the rest of my life, I swear.”
Cheeks gaining a touch of pink behind tinted glass. A huff. “Whatever. Just make that nerd happy and we’re even.”
Yet, after they’ve jumped through all the hoops to get the propeller plane fueled and ready, Rody has exchanged his pilot uniform for a custom-made suit courtesy of Bakugou Masaru (along with a matching tie for Pino), and they’ve checked in with Kirishima to make sure everything’s going according to plan on the other side of town, there’s something left on Bakugou’s mind. It’s obvious in the way he keeps glancing back at Monoma’s silhouette in the car, who’s inexplicable presence Rody has stopped questioning a while ago.
Heroes are weird like that, a truth he has long come to accept.
“Alright, we got—” A glance at Rody’s watch. Another five minute break, what a coincidence, “—juuust enough time for you to tell me what’s up.”
“Huh?” Arms crossed, Bakugou has the audacity to pretend he doesn’t know what Rody’s talking about. Rody gives him a raised eyebrow, a wordless c’mon now.
“Spill. Why’d ya drag Monoma along, hm?”
The flustered touch of color returns to Bakugou’s face and yeah, Rody already has an inkling where this is going. After all, that very first trip to U.A. set in motion what he dearly hopes will end in a tearful yes and lots of kisses tonight.
“Uh. I asked ’im to... Would it bother ya if...”
A groan. Bakugou’s palms spark before he rubs them against his too-hot cheeks, the gesture, too, an echo of the past. Rody waits for him to find his words, nonchalantly hiding the giddy dance Pino is tap-tap-tapping out on his shoulder behind his hand.
“Just, fuckin’— I wanna see Dynamy again.”
There it is. Wasn’t so hard, was it?, Rody would tease if he wasn’t fully aware it is that hard, actually. Getting snarky over the rare times Bakugou outright asks for help has been off-limits for years.
Instead, Rody grins, nods, glances past Bakugou’s shoulder to call out, “Yo, Monoma Neito! Mind borrowing Soul for a bit?”
Looks like more than one wish is coming true today.
*
“Mmh...”
The golden glow of sunlight coaxes Kirishima from dreamless sleep, a strip of warmth that has steadily climbed from his naked chest up to his neck and has now finally reached his closed eyes. Groaning, he squints against that bright glare, yawning into the coziness that is Big Blue—
Wham!
Something wacks against his temple, one, two, three times. A rhythm Kirishima’s gotten used to on mornings his and Bakugou’s schedules don’t quite match up, thus making him the default target of Queen Bitch’s attention.
“Q, gimme a minute, girl. One minute, and we’ll go on our wa—”
“Shitty!”
Kirishima’s eyes snap open. He picks his head up, stares at shining red far too close to his face, backs up a bit to escape the wagging tail hitting his pillow at supersonic speeds now that he’s awake.
“Dyna... Dynamy?!”
A sharp-toothed grin that far outshines the cloudless day greeting him from outside their bedroom window. “Shitty!”, they repeat in delight, voice as adorably chirpy as Kirishima remembers, and—
Is it still the same creature?
The poof of blond, the big eyes and the spindly arms definitely haven’t changed; the shape and matte black color of their shell matches Dynamight’s third generation grenade bracers, though, and their version of the mask ends in the fuse-like design Bakugou originally wanted for his suit upgrade, but ultimately had to scrap due to the inherent risk of a villain grabbing on or it getting stuck on something.
Which still doesn’t explain why Dynamy is here.
Half-wondering if he’s dreaming after all, Kirishima blinks at them, then the worn plushie of them adorning Bakugou’s side of the bed. “Shitty”, Dynamy repeats, pouting now, tugging at the messy-red hair cascading down Kirishima’s back.
“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry. Welcome back, Dyna!”
Holy shit, wait, Dynamy is back! Kirishima snatches them up, marveling at how well they fit in his hands after all this time — “Kats!”, he calls out instinctively, his voice wobbly with the big grin spreading on his face. “Katsu—”
“Over here, doofus. Heard ya the first time.”
Leaning against the frame of their bedroom door, Bakugou is watching them over the rim of his coffee mug, the sip he’s taking doing nothing to hide neither the smirk on his lips nor the glint of genuine happiness in his eyes. Kirishima squeezes Dynamy to his chest and rasps out, “They’re so baby, ohhh, I missed them so much”, feeling the creature vibrate in his arms from pure hype.
(Art by DonnaOneOne, posted with permission.)
A snort. Bakugou rights himself, pads across the room, mutters, “I know you did, fucker” as he sits on the edge of the bed and brushes a long strand of crimson behind Kirishima’s ear.
“Happy anniversary, hm?”
Tears shoot to Kirishima’s eyes. “Really? This is for us?” With all the excitement of yesterday’s engagement — Rody wrote Marry me? into the freaking sky, how romantic is that! — and the subsequent and much less pleasant villain incident that kept Red Riot busy well into the night, Kirishima had certainly hoped they’d get to catch up on their own important day today.
This went far beyond his expectation, though.
“For how long?”
“Neito’s stayin’ at our beach house for the rest of the week and promised not to touch his quirk until he’s back.” Bakugou’s smirk tempers into a smile. “And... I traded some of our shifts with Hanta and Denki. So we’re off work the whole time, too. I was thinkin’ snow-hiking up in Hokkaido?”
“Babe.” Shifting Dynamy to the crook of his elbow, Kirishima leans in to give Bakugou a well-deserved kiss. “Hell yeah! You’re the freaking best. I love you.”
Dynamy’s tail speeds up. Their blush matches Bakugou’s perfectly, “Love you too, you know that”, and oh, this is the best anniversary present ever.
Unless...
“Well, damn. Now I’ll have to give the guy from the All Might Ultimate Hero exhibit a call and cancel our super exclusive, made-for-us closed-shop tour on Saturday—”
Rough, calloused hands grab Kirishima; already snickering, he lets his husband drag him closer by his biceps, Dynamy included. All-too-suddenly (and quite happily, in fact), Kirishima finds himself on the other end of the most intense gaze known to mankind.
“Eijirou. The fucking what?”