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Deft fingers ducked in and out of his hair, creating something complicated and fancy. He remembered that when she had first started to learn this her fingers were clumsier, but she had gotten a lot better, and now the rhythmic movements and soft tugs of her hands in his hair were soothing to him, helping calm his frayed nerves. The day had been going too well so far; all of the decorations had been set up perfectly, the florists had gone all out and practically every free surface was overflowing with red, white, and orange flowers, and the cake had already been delivered and was chilling in the kitchen. He kept expecting something to go wrong by now.
Sappy pop music filled his room, and Sero and Tetsutetsu were taking turns belting out the few lyrics they knew, occasionally making up their own when they didn’t know the song. That was also making him feel better, and he was so grateful for his friends’ presence. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone, not with the way he already felt like he was going to be overcome with the nerves dancing under his skin when his entire Groom’s party were trying their hardest to make him feel better.
“There!” Uraraka announced, and after a final bobby pin was pushed into his hair, her hands left it. “How do you like it?”
He turned his head slowly so he see the details, staring at the mirror. He had felt like his spikes were too casual for a wedding, and same with his hair just down naturally. In all honesty, what they ended up picking wasn’t that fancy, just one of those stylish buns that were surrounded by a small braid. His bangs still fell around his face messily, but he liked it. He ran his finger over the smooth strands tied together and smiled wide at Uraraka.
“I love it, thanks!” She returned a smile just as wide and put her hands on her hips. Her hair was in a much more complicated updo, and she was wearing wearing a sleeved, red dress that draped over her hips into an uneven hemline and had a panel of black lace around the waist, a little corsage with a red and orange flower strapped to her wrist. Ashido, as the unofficial wedding planner and official Groom Tender, had picked out all of the dresses for the Groomswomen, and he had a sneaking suspicion that instead of just getting bridesmaid dresses, she had gotten dancing dresses. Her’s certainly was, with its orange and red pattern that made her look like she was on fire when she spun - it also had bunches of fabric on the sleeve and waist that was definitely there to be decorative while someone danced.
Oh well, he didn’t really mind that much.
“Why did you get so fancy with your hair, anyway?” Sero asked. The men had dressed more traditional, all of them in black suits with either orange or red ties and pocket squares. Sero had a red pocket square, but small little lines of orange criss-crossed across the linen, denoting him as Kirishima’s Best Man.
“I mean, I’m getting married right? I felt like I should do something fancy,” Kirishima said, and then he touched the braid again.
“Do you not like it?”
“Bro, it looks totally rad,” Tetsutetsu said-shouted in encouragement, and Kirishima turned his grin towards him.
“Yeah, it looks good Ei, I was just wondering. You know Bakugou didn’t do anything fancy with his hair,” Sero pointed out, and Kirishima shrugged, because he already had known that.
“I wanted to do it more for myself than him,” Kirishima admitted, turning his head again in the mirror to look at his hairstyle again. Ashido had tried to push fancy headbands and hair clips once he had told her that he wanted to do something special with his hair, but that had all been a little too much. This was perfect.
“What I don’t understand,” Called Ashido from the door to the room, and Kirishima turned around to face her. Behind her, Tsuyu and Jirou waved at him, and he waved back gleefully. “Is why Uraraka got to do it and I didn’t.”
“Because you couldn’t sit still long enough for Bakugou to teach you how to do it,” Kirishima told her, before opening his arms and accepting her excited hug.
“Fair, but then why didn’t he just get his mother to do it?”
“He said, and I quote, “That old hag is not making any fucking decisions about my wedding.” He didn’t even tell her the date until like, a month ago,” Kirishima said. He didn’t pretend to understand the very complicated relationship between the members of the Bakugou household, and he didn’t even really want to try to understand. He pulled Jirou and Tsuyu into hugs too, and then pulled away with a bright grin.
“I’m so glad you guys came to visit me!”
“Well, it isn’t exactly like the other groom is being very open to visitors,” Jirou pointed out, and Tsuyu nodded.
“He sounds like he’s having a rough time,” Tsuyu ribbited, and Kirishima’s nerves came roaring back. He frowned. He knew that Bakugou tended to be asocial on most days, but he had seemed fine with the idea of a wedding - hell, it was his idea. What if he was regretting it? Or having cold feet. Oh god, what if Bakugou was having second thoughts?
“Maybe I should go check on him,” He said out loud, and he winced at how worried he sounded. Ashido made clicking noises with her tongue and pushed him back into the room, forcing him to sit down on the stool that Uraraka had been standing on to fix his hair.
“You know that’s bad luck to see the Groom before the wedding!” Ashido admonished, and Kirishima rolled his eyes and tried to stand again, but then Sero and Tetsu were coming up to his sides to help hold him down.
“I’m sure he’s fine dude,” Tetsu assured, patting his shoulder roughly.
“He’s probably just being Bakugou - you know how he is,” Sero said, and Kirishima sighed, because they were probably right but still. Sero glanced over at the visitors and shook his head, and the girls nodded before saying their goodbyes. Kirishima put his head in his hands and took a deep breath.
“What if he’s having second thoughts?” He said quietly into the room. The room fell silent, and all Kirishima could hear was his nervous heart. As the moment stretched and no one broke the silence, he looked up with dread coiling deep in his stomach.
Only to be met with the four most disbelieving looks he had ever seen.
“Dude,” Sero said, speechless.
“Seriously man,” Tetsu said, shaking his head at him. “You guys have been together for how long again?”
“Seven years, but still.” Kirishima said, glancing down at his hands. It was one thing to be dating someone, another to be actually marrying them. Mina patted his head affectionately, careful to not mess up his hair.
“You’re being silly, Ei, he’s the one that proposed to you,” She pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t change his mind,” Kirishima pointed out, and Sero sighed.
“Man, I forget that you get this way sometimes,” He said, and Kirishima frowned at him. Sure, he got a little insecure sometimes, but everybody did. Even the man made of pride, Bakugou himself, doubted himself time to time. But that wasn’t this, this was a valid concern.
“It’s possible,” he pointed out, and Uraraka shook his head.
“I don’t know if it is,” She said, and Kirishima turned to stare at her because that didn’t make any sense. She held her hands out, clearly reading Kirishima’s disbelief. “You must have gotten used to seeing the way Bakugou looks at you, but Kiri, there is no way he changed his mind about spending the rest of his life with you.”
“She’s right,” Mina said, wrapping her arm around his neck and leaning against his side. “The only thing he talks about as passionately as he talks about you is beating Midoriya.”
“The only thing he sounds as self assured about when he’s talking about you being in his future is when he talks about becoming the number one hero,” Sero added.
“The only person who sounds more sure about who they love is you, Eijirou,” Tetsu said, bumping his fists together, and Kirishima smiled at them. He didn’t know if he really believed them, but their words sounded genuine and they cheered him up regardless.
“Thanks guys,” He said, and he looked back down at his hands, at the engagement ring he was still wearing. He held it out and imagined the matching wedding bands that they had picked out, and he felt his heart squeeze.
“Guys, I’m getting married.”
-~-~-~-
Despite the fact that he literally never wore ties, he still knew how to tie them. He knew how to tie them perfectly, in fact, so he didn’t understand why this orange piece of bullshit fabric was giving him so much fucking trouble.
“God Damnit,” He hissed, and pulled it out of its tangled snarl so it draped over his shoulders and he reached towards the hand towel he had snagged from the kitchen and wiped his sweaty hands on it. It would be pretty fucking inconvenient if he accidentally exploded the damn thing. It didn’t matter that they had spares, it was a thing of fucking pride that he’d be able to get through this entire mess without exploding a single thing.
“You know, I could just tie it for you,” Kaminari said, and Bakugou glared at him. He eyed the orange handkerchief neatly folder in his pocket, thin red stripes crisscrossing the material.
“I can do it myself, fuck you,” He bite out, and turned back to the mirror in front of him. “Why the fuck are you my Best Man again?”
“Because your Groom can’t be your Best Man,” Kaminari said breezily, seemingly unoffended by Bakugou. He never really was, and that simultaneously made him one of Bakugou’s best friends and one of the people he hated the most. He scowled instead of dignifying that with a response, and he grabbed the tie again and moved through the familiar movements once again; looping the material, pulling it through, looping again, tucking under and over and fuck, it’s still crooked. He pulled it loose again and resisted the urge to pull out his hair.
“Why is it so fucking hot in here?” He growled, because that had to be the reason that his hands were sweating, right? Because Bakugou Katsuki had faced much, much more nerve-wracking situations than marrying his fiance, hadn’t he? He sure as fuck had, but then why the fuck won’t his hands stop sweating? Why was his heart beating so erratically?
“I could try to cool the room down more,” Todoroki offered, his voice only slightly less monotonous than it had been during high school. Bakugou glared at him through the mirror, purposefully ignoring the way ice was creeping up the wall behind him, bringing the room temperature down sharply because that wasn’t even the first time Bakugou had complained about the temperature. “But, I think, if I do, Camie might freeze.”
“Like, for real,” Camie called from the back of the room, standing as far away from Todoroki as possible. Bakugou turned his glare towards her short, orange dress, particularly at the panel of black lace around her waist. She was wearing a fucking tango dress, and he was going to fucking kill Ashido for that bullshit. He should have known she’d pick something that fucking stupid.
“It’s fucking fine,” He mumbled, because it wasn’t Camie’s fault that Kirishima and Bakugou had been stupid enough to trust their friends to not make a complete farce out of their wedding. Bakugou wasn’t going to admit that aside from the fashion styles, Ashido did a good job with the decorations, and the rehearsal dinner had gone smoothly. But those fucking dresses and this god fucking motherfuck -
“Why the fuck do I have to wear a tie? It's my fucking wedding,” Bakugou snarled, strangling the material. He tossed it in the corner, twice as pissed because he wasn’t going to be able to get it smooth again and was going to have to use one of the fucking spares and god this was all bullshit.
“Because your mother would kill you if you didn’t wear a tie,” Kaminari pointed out and he hated it when that dumb fucker had a point.
“Fuck,” He snarled and held his hand out towards him. He handed Bakugou a new tie, smart enough to not comment on it. He took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head before he tried tying the tie again, slowly.
“Why are you having a wedding anyway? I doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d enjoy,” Todoroki asked, and why the fuck was he asking him this now instead of four months ago when Bakugou had asked him to be one of his groomsmen?
“I fucking hate weddings,” He said vehemently, because he does. He hated every wedding he had ever been to, and he had been to a lot because his mother was a social butterfly and Bakugou had been her favorite accessory until he learned that cussing the bride out got him out of being dragged to anymore weddings.
“Then why -”
“Because Eijirou doesn’t. He loves this kind of romantic bullshit, and I love him, so I can put up with this bullshit,” Bakugou said, his voice softening. He couldn’t fucking help it, it just happened when he was thinking of Kirishima, okay? He closed his eyes and pictured the redhead, and he felt his racing heart slow. He hated the stupid superstition that said the married parties had to be separate during the ceremony; this would have been so much easier if Kirishima could be in the room with him. He took a deep breath, and sighed.
“That’s like, super sweet for real, yo,” Camie said, and he turned his head to glare at her and her stupid face that made it real clear how fucking cute she found that. She smiled at him, and then she was blowing in the air and Bakugou fucking knew how her quirk worked what the fuck was she -
“Katsuki!” The illusion of Kirishima called, and Bakugou froze. Her illusions always had the habit of being a little too cutesy to be the real thing, but this Kirishima looked exactly like Kirishima, down to his stupid fucking hair horns and his blinding grin. It blinked his bright red eyes, and then tilted his head.
“It’ll be okay! I love you too!” The illusion said, making a heart shape with his hands before it disappeared, vanishing into the room in a puff of multicolored smoke. On Bakugou’s next exhale, the anxiety he felt flowed out him. He knew it was just an illusion, and he still wanted to real thing, but it helped, it really did. Not that he’d ever admit it. When Camie smiled and waved at him, he just rolled his eyes and turned away to look at himself in the mirror.
He wanted to touch his hair, but he had carefully styled it today. It, admittedly, didn’t look too different from his usual style because the kind of thing Best Jeanist had tried to force him to wear looked ridiculous on him, but he tamed his hair somewhat so it looked like he had actually tried. If he ran his hands through it, it’d just fuck it up.
“How are we doing in here, boys? Camie?” Ashido called cheerily into the room, and Bakugou turned around again to glare at her. She was as unfazed as Kaminari, which solidified her similar position as one of his best friends and one of the people he hated the most.
“We’re fucking fine,” Bakugou grit out, and he glared at her dress. “Why the fuck did you pick fucking tango dresses?”
“Because they’re pretty!” Ashido said defensively.
“Not for a fucking wedding!”
“I think they’re sick,” Camie interjected, and Bakugou glared at both of them now. Camie blew him kisses.
“Why isn’t your tie tied?” Ashido asked, stepping into the room and grabbing the ends of the orange fabric before Bakugou could stop her. He slapped her hands away and tucked the ends into his waistcoat so she couldn’t fuck with them again.
“No fucking reason!” He snarled, and his face was flushing and he was 25, why the fuck was he still getting embarrassed over dumb shit like that? Kaminari clicked his tongue and Bakugou whipped his head around to glare a warning at him.
“He’s freaking out,” Kaminari drawled.
“Like, Totally,” Camie added, and the room turned towards Todoroki, who just shrugged.
“He does appear to be flustered.”
“Fuck all of you,” Bakugou bite out, turning away from them. “Why the fuck did I ask you to do this for me?”
“Because you have no other friends,” Kaminari said, patting his shoulder and Bakugou bared his teeth at him. He wasn’t fazed.
“What’s wrong?” Ashido asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. He tried to jerk away, but her fingers were digging in the material and the determined look on her face told him that he wasn’t going to get out of this without saying something. He ground his teeth together and took another deep breath.
“I don’t fucking know,” He finally said.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Ashido asked, and Bakugou rounded on her in disbelief, shocked that she would even imply such a thing, much less just say it straight out.
“What the fuck? No fucking way,” He said. He had no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be married to Kirishima, absolutely no doubt. He had been the one to propose, he had been the one to say they were going to have this fancy wedding, and never once had he been scared of actually making the commitment to Kirishima.
But now they were here and it just - he couldn’t help but be on edge. Bakugou was not good in situations like this, was not good with things that don’t involve fighting or intelligence. This was social stuff, and he had never even been the kind for a lot of PDA, but now he was about to go stand in front of everybody who had one iota of importance to Kirishima and him, and he was going to affirm his love for the redheaded idiot in front of everyone and it was just.
It was just a lot.
Too much, really.
“Katsuki,” Ashido said, and she had that sympathetic voice and Bakugou forced himself to not bristle.
“I’m not having second thoughts, I fucking love him,” Bakugou said sullenly, and Ashido smiled.
“Good,” She said, coming to stand by Bakugou’s shoulders. “Because your future husband is looking hot for you, and you need to get ready so you can go sweep him off his feet. Then, you guys get to spend the next week all to yourselves.”
Bakugou took another deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror. He could do this. He was Bakugou motherfucking Katsuki, and he could do this. He could go get married to the most beautiful, ridiculous man he has ever met, the love of his fucking life, and he do it while wearing a fucking tie. He took the fabric in his hands and went slowly, looping and pulling and wrapping.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn close.
“Fuckers; I’m going to get married.”
-~-~-~-
They had to do a lot of planning to get this part right. The best part of the wedding was getting to see the faces of to-be-weddeds when they saw each other, right? So Kirishima didn’t want to deprive their visitors of seeing that, even though Bakugou hadn’t given two shits. But, again, this wedding was for Kirishima, and not for Bakugou, so he left it up Kirishima and Ashido to figure it out.
As it turned out, the place they were getting married had these sort of backstage areas on either side of the where they would actually have their nuptials, so Bakugou and Kirishima could walk out at the same time and see each others’ faces and it would be this whole big thing.
So there Bakugou was, waiting for his cue, Kaminari by his side because neither of them wanted to be given away but it was one of those things that happened in marriage, and having their best friends by their side would help calm them down. Although, of course, Bakugou best friend was Kirishima.
It was always Kirishima.
“You ready to go?” Kaminari asked, and Bakugou huffed out an angry breath.
“Of fucking course I am,” He said, and then, familiar orchestral music started playing, and this was it. Bakugou’s heart seized, and for a second he didn’t think he could move, but Kaminari’s hand was on his back and it was a matter of mind over body, and Kirishima was just on the other side of this door. He could do this, he could fucking do this.
He pushed the door open, and at first his field of vision was blocked their respective groomsmen (and women), but then Camie was smiling and she and Todoroki (and on the other side, Pink Cheeks and Tetsu) stepped aside and Bakugou was stumbling over his feet, because there was Kirishima.
He was beautiful. He was always beautiful, but god, sometimes it hit Bakugou and stole all of the breath from his lungs.
He had his hair tied back in that updo Bakugou spent the last two months teaching Uraraka to do, but now he was seeing it in combination with his carmine tie and scarlet waistcoat and there was so much red, and Bakugou had picked orange for his color, usually did, but he forget sometimes how much he loves the color red. The suit hugged Kirishima’s broad, strong shoulders, and he was grinning, grinning so fucking wide that it looked like his face might split in half, and Bakugou got now why people said seeing the faces were important. Kirishima looked so besotted and breath-taking, and Bakugou wanted someone to take a picture so he could frame it and keep it on his person forever.
He didn’t even realize that he had stopped walking until Kaminari was tugging on his sleeve, but then he was walking again, up to Kirishima, and Bakugou didn’t even get why he had been so nervous about doing this in front of all those people, because no one existed in the world right now other than Kirishima.
He wanted to kiss Kirishima, but he knew he couldn’t, so he settled for wrapping the redhead in a tight hug. He laughed and returned his embrace, but they were pulling away too quickly.
“I love you,” Bakugou said quietly, and somehow Kirishima’s grin just grew wider.
“I love you too,” He said, just as softly, and then they turned and listened to the justice of the peace. They went through the motions, saying all the lines they needed to say. They didn’t do vows, not here, because Kirishima knew how uncomfortable Bakugou was with talking about his emotions in front of other people.
And besides, Bakugou whispered how much he loved Kirishima into his ear every night.
Kaminari handed over the rings, and Kirishima almost cried when Bakugou slid the band onto his finger. All Bakugou could do was stare when Kirishima returned the gesture. Then finally, finally, he could kiss him.
They had been together for years, and still Bakugou never got used to kissing Kirishima. It was comfortable now, easy, but it never something he was used to. Each kiss still made his heart flutter, still made his breath hitch, still took him over and drowned everything out. All he felt right now was Kirishima and the intense, overwhelming love he felt for that man.
Kirishima pulled away and leaned his forehead against Bakugou’s, their noses touching and their breaths mingling and their grins just inches away from each other. There was the dull roar from their classmates, friends, and family behind them, but Bakugou still heard Kirishima’s words perfectly when the redhead cupped his face and spoke softly.
“Babe, we’re finally married.”