Work Text:
Katsuki had never seen someone so excited upon seeing a restaurant.
Kirishima had his head tilted up, staring at the brightly lit logo like he had never seen lights before. The fucker had the internet and a laptop, so to think that the sign outside of a half-decent steak house was causing such a reaction was ridiculous. Not that Katsuki was complaining; Kirishima was another level of pretty with his face thrown in such a bright light; it only served to accentuate the shadow of his jawline and neck and Katsuki found his eyes drifting down before he could stop himself.
Goddamn it; Katsuki really needed to stop looking Kirishima up and down like a damned lollipop - he was a vampire for fuck’s sakes!
Oh, while he was thinking of that -
“Did you drink today?” Katsuki asked, his voice low. Hopefully if anyone overheard them they’d just think that Kirishima had a particularly rampant drinking problem instead of going straight to ‘oh hell that’s a vampire’. At his voice, Kirishima turned his head away from the light, and Katsuki almost regretted asking. It was an important question though, so he wasn’t going to be too upset about it.
Kirishima meaningfully glanced at Bakugou’s wrist and dragged his eyes up his arm, supposedly tracing the vein, and settling on his neck for a moment before flicking his gaze back to Katsuki’s eyes and smiling cheekily.
“Are you offering?”
“Fuck no,” Katsuki bit out, although for a brief second his mind teased him with the thought of Kirishima pressing in close, sinking his sharp canines into the flesh of his neck. He shivered. “Like fuck I want to turn into one of you pasty motherfuckers.”
“Aw, Bakugou, you don’t want to grow old with me?” Kirishima whined in mock offense, and Katsuki glared at him. He wasn’t perturbed. “Or not grow old, I guess. Anyway, no, but I did yesterday so I should be good, yeah?”
“Whatever,” Bakugou murmured, because it wasn’t like he actually knew Kirishima’s limits. Deciding that he was done with this conversation (and staring at Kirishima’s expression) he started heading towards the front door. He heard footsteps behind him only a second later and he didn’t have to glance back to see his vampire tag-along following behind him with entirely too much enthusiasm.
Due to the whole ‘allergic to sunlight’ situation and the long summer days, they were actually catching dinner pretty late, so the restaurant was empty. Which was great, because being around a lot of people made Katsuki nervous and Kirishima hungry and both of those things in the same place seemed like a recipe for disaster.
The hostess sat them in some tucked away corner, the nearest patron sitting several tables away. At least that meant that they could talk frankly without creeping out some old man. Kirishima drummed his knuckles against the table, his excitement vibrating his body like a plucked string.
“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve been out of my cabin,” Kirishima enthused, and Katsuki stared at him from over his menu.
“You could have left without fucking dragging me into it,” he pointed out, and eventually he was gonna be really pissed about the fact that Kirishima only ever smiled when Katsuki was being an ass. But first, he had to find it in him to be angry at a smiling Kirishima.
“But then we wouldn’t get to spend this time together!” Kirishima chirped, and Katsuki managed to roll his eyes despite the warmth in his cheeks. He decided to ignore the redhead and turned back to his menu. His dinner companion hummed and assumedly did the same, because he stopped speaking.
“Hey, Bakugou?” Kirishima said, and Katsuki sighed. He had been too thankful too soon. He lowered his menu and stared at him. His lips quirked into another smile, and Katsuki would never understand how one person could smile so often.
“I just wanted to say -”
“Hey guys! I’m going to be your waitress tonight!” Their eyes snapped up at the interruption, finding a petite woman standing on the side of their table, a smile on her face and notepad in her hand. Katsuki glared at her, but she didn’t seem particularly fazed. “Do you know what you want for dinner?”
“The chef’s special,” Katsuki said, handing her the menu. She quickly scribbled it down on her little pad and then turned towards Kirishima, who was staring at the menu as if he had never seen laminated paper in his entire life.
“And you sir?” The waitress asked, and Kirishima glanced up at her before gulping.
“. . . meat,” He answered, uncertain, and Katsuki inhaled.
“The . . . steak, sir?” The waitress asked.
“Yes?” Kirishima asked and he turned towards Katsuki, his eyes wide and begging for help. Katsuki exhaled and ran his hands through his hair.
“Porterhouse. He wants the porterhouse,” he groaned, and Kirishima nodded quickly, looking in between the waitress and Katsuki. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he had thought that Kirishima would have been able to, at the very least, read a fucking menu. He should have realized that was expecting too much of him
“Alright sir,” The Waitress said, taking everything in stride. “How would you liked it cooked?”
“Cooked?” Kirishima said, and Katsuki glared at him.
“Yes sir, how would you like it cooked?”
“Uh,” Kirishima glanced over at Katsuki, his expression already apologetic. “As legally close to ‘alive’ as you could get?”
Katsuki kicked him under the table because, holy shit, what was wrong with him? The vampire winced and leaned down to rub his leg, and Katsuki used the distraction to grab his menu and hand it to her.
“He wants it rare,” He said, and the waitress smiled at him before turning and fleeing. He regretted all of his life choices. He regretted the fact that Kirishima hadn’t just left him to die of heatstroke when the vampire had found him after a particularly ill-prepared for hike. Frustration bubbled in his stomach, and he was really dreading the rest of this night. He just wanted to be at home, not babysitting his goddamn immortal friend.
“Hey,” Kirishima said, and Katsuki turned towards him.
“I see why the fuck you needed me with you. You’re goddamn hopeless,” He said, which made Kirishima chuckle self consciously. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad about it.
“You’re right, I am,” He said, and then he leaned forward, laying his hand over Katsuki’s. The blond tensed, but Kirishima didn’t seem to notice; he just bared his stupidly sharp teeth in a stupidly charming smile and ran his thumb over his wrist. Katsuki’s eyes followed the movement, his mind not really catching up to reality.
“I really just wanted to say thank you for sticking with me,” He said, and Katsuki’s eyes snapped to his. Kirishima’s eyes were such a deep red, genuine appreciation and gratitude making them warm, and Katsuki felt himself being pulled in.
Fuck.
He managed to avert his eyes, his face heating up quickly. It was fucking unfair how gorgeous this redheaded idiot was, how much he had Katsuki wrapped around his finger. He exhaled through his teeth and deliberately looked at an empty corner in the restaurant.
“Fuck, whatever,” he said, and he didn’t need to turn to know that Kirishima was smiling.