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In the broad spectrum of things, it’s a routine mission. Here’s the situation. Villain escapes custody. Villain holes themselves up in the first building they can find. Villain finds hostages. Villain says they’ll kill said hostages unless they’re allowed to go free. Stalemate ensues.
The job of a hero is rarely straightforward, never simple and always dangerous, but there are patterns. You’d have to blind not to spot them. Apart from the occasional curve-ball, a lot of people think in the same ways when things go to shit. Today, the particulars are that the villain has a quirk that can turn any constructed material to sand and the building is a bakery. The number of hostages are nine customers, one manager and three employees who really don’t get paid enough for this.
Kirishima – well, he’s Red Riot right now – is standing a few feet away from back door of the bakery, listening through his tinny bluetooth ear-piece to the negotiator in front of the building. He only has the gist of what’s going on, but it’s hard to keep track of a conversation when one voice is calm, one is nearing psychotic and a third is getting ready to give him the signal.
“Okay, Ultra Vee has ascertained that the perp has no weapons and currently all hostages are on the ground and unrestrained. If we give them a good break they can just run out the front door.”
Kirishima is used to working these kinds of missions. The ones where they need a big guy who can give twice as well as he can take and possibly hold up a roof if it starts tumbling down. They need someone unbreakable and he fits the bill like a glove.
“Worst case scenario?” he whispers into the receiver. The calm voice repeats a sentence and the psychotic voice yells something about not being guilty. Yeah, that ship sailed as soon as you walked in and didn’t just buy a croissant, buddy.
There’s no hesitation. “She touches a wall and the whole thing comes down.”
He doesn’t need to say anything else.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?”
“You wait for the signal and when we give it, you go quietly through the back door. Should be an office there. Walk through there quietly until you get to where the back meets the shop floor. Stay there quietly and with any luck Ultra Vee should be able to incapacitate the perp. If not…”
“Quietly cause a riot?”
There’s a chuckle. “Yeah. That.”
A loud crackle comes through the piece. Kirishima is so happy right now he has a boyfriend who can light explosives from his sweat. He starts moving towards the door.
The door’s already unlocked. Ultra Vee was their Plan A. Lock-pick the door, go invisible, stay invisible and get prepared. If Kirishima was petty, he might be annoyed that he was the Plan B. Honestly though, if he didn’t have to do anything he’d be ecstatic. That’d mean nothing went wrong. Things rarely don’t go wrong.
Kirishima slips inside, closing the door until only a sliver of light comes through into the pitch black office. No windows. Gee, what a great place to work. Well, at least the fragrance of burnt sugar and melted chocolate makes up for it. It reminds him of a certain someone, but Kirishima doesn’t allow his mind to wander too far. Mission first, gushing about how awesome your boyfriend smells later. Preferably when said boyfriend is in your arms and unable to avoid your kisses because you’re just that strong (and he loves them that much).
“What the hell was that?” The psychotic voice yells through the piece.
“I’m sorry Madam, the equipment is old and occasionally spikes. We will do our best to ensure it doesn’t happen again.” It’s kind of scary how easy the calm voice lies through their teeth.
“You better make sure it doesn’t or you know what’ll happen!”
“Of course, Madam. Now, we were talking about getting you a car…”
The conversation continues. Kirishima makes his way past the cruddy plastic desk at the left wall of the office and into the staff area. All the lights are turned off and no-one is around. That’s good. Hostage situations generally make people antsy and loud. It’s easier to stay out of sight and out of mind. Though Kirishima would love nothing more than to run in there right now, sock that lady once around the jaw and call it a day. Discretion is sometimes the better part of valour, Kirishima has learned.
Kirishima recalls the maps he was briefed with on his way to the scene and cleanly navigates to the door separating the back from the shop floor. Crouching low, he hardens his shoulder and gets ready to charge in. Okay, yeah elbowing the door is a dumb idea. But most people don’t have skin as hard as a rock, do they?
Well, here’s the bad news. It didn’t go to plan. Obviously.
The good news is that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. And no-one got hurt. And they got the perp!
Everything was coming to a head. The negotiator and the villain were talking around in circles, just as planned. Ultra Vee was slowly making her was up to the villain’ unguarded rear. Just as planned. Kirishima was ready as back-up. Just as planned.
Suddenly, there was the sound of scuffling from the office behind Kirishima and it was loud. Not as planned.
“What the hell was tha-!” The villain turned at just the wrong time to see Ultra Vee’s movement (an unfortunate weakness of her quirk). Not as planned. And in the next moment the perp was running towards the closest wall.
“Shit, PLAN B!” The voice commanded through Kirishima’s ear-piece.
Kirishima burst into the room, knocking the door off its hinges. The perp, a mousey black haired woman looking to be in her mid-thirties, was running towards the east wall. He takes off after her while Ultra Vee starts her plan B and gets people off the ground and out the front door. After she tells the first one the other twelve don’t need telling.
Chaos looms as the room is filled with a chorus of yelling, crying and stumbling feet. Luckily, Kirishima has been keeping up with his footwork. He vaults over the counter, flying across the room like an Olympian. The perp, in her haste, trips on a step and clambers to get up. Kirishima quickly closes the gap. As he reaches her… she grins like a maniac and slams her hand onto the ground. Immediately, the linoleum gives way to sand. Kirishima stumbles, landing mouth first. The sand grate roughly on his bare skin, already turning it red with burn. It’s at times like these he hates how revealing his suit is.
The perp doesn’t waste a second. She scrambles across the sand that once was the floor and reaches for the wall.
“Riot! We need five seconds!” Ultra Vee shouts.
Kirishima knows they don’t have that much time. He goes forward anyway.
She’s four steps away. Three.
Kirishima finally gets his footing. His steps equal two of hers, but it won’t be enough.
Two.
The woman is laughing and crying, gibbering nonsense as she prepares to end her life and those of any left in the building. Kirishima doesn’t want to think about how many that will be. He can’t. He keeps moving.
One.
He won’t make it.
“Arrrgghhhh!” The perp bellows.
Kirishima briefly catches a blur of red and white, crashing into the perp and latching onto her as they fall gracelessly to the ground. Growls like shifting sands ring in Kirishima’s ears but his eyes don’t have time to focus on anything except that the perp is down. In the next millisecond, his operations manager calls back.
“Riot, they’re out! Get back now!”
Kirishima gets ready to respond. Apparently Crazy is feeling feisty.
“Stupid mutt! Get off of me!” The woman jerks her arm and with a strength that is reserved for last resorts, she shifts the large dog who was holding her down. With tears in her eyes, she reaches her hand to the brick wall.
Kirishima doesn’t have to think. He jumps forward, barely noticing the wall start to dissolve into dust. He gathers the dog in one arm, the woman in another and hardens into Unbreakable as the ceiling gives way.
It takes them fifteen minutes to dig him up. It’s not the longest Kirishima has been stuck under a building, but it’s still a relief when he sees light. He gets dragged to the surface like a fish to harbour, minus the embarrassing flopping, and proceeds to hack up the sand that got in his mouth.
Voices echo around him. Police, medics, civilians. He chooses to focus on the sound of his own breathing as his muscles slowly relax and his skin softens. He feels something beating against his side and he initially mistakes it as just the regular throbbing. He groans and the throbbing increases in pressure and frequency.
Looking down into his arms he sees the perp, thankfully unconscious, leaning on his left side. On his right, he sees the most striking pair of baby blues he’s ever laid eyes on. A small snuffle acknowledges him and Kirishima – the Unbreakable Hero, Red Riot – finds himself at the mercy of doggy kisses.
“Woah, hey there!” Kirishima pushes out through chuckles. His eyes scrunch as he grins, trying to move his head away. The dog simply follows him, grunting excitedly as it expresses its gratitude. Kirishima was just starting to enjoy it too when he hears someone calling his name.
“Red Riot! Could you spare the time for an interview?”
Kirishima turns his head to see a wall of cameras and people just outside the police-lines. They’ve already taken pictures of him, if the flashes are anything to go by. Ah, reporters. Or vultures as Bakugou prefers to call them. Kirishima isn’t so pessimistic. This is part of a hero’s job and if he can encourage one person to be better, he’ll go through all the interviews in the world.
“Sure!” he calls, testing his legs. The dog seems less enthused. As soon as Kirishima releases his hold, the dog pushes back and slides out of his arms, running into the streets.
“Hey, wait!” Kirishima turns but the dog is already gone. Damn, that was fast.
Kirishima doesn’t have time to search more as some heavily suited authorities approach him, quirk-cancelling handcuffs in tow. Kirishima nods with a smile and releases the woman. The suited group nod back and take her away. That should hopefully be the end of it. Still, where did that dog come from? And where did it go?
He doesn’t have to wait long for the answer.
It’s evening now and Kirishima is slowly trudging home. His body is exhausted, but he’s in high spirits. It was a good day all-in-all and the story of his rescue operation has been playing on repeat on the evening news. Of course, he credits everyone who helped, but the reporters decided to focus on him today. He couldn’t say that wasn’t a nice thing. It might have helped that the image of him hugging a dog was quickly going viral.
Looking at the picture on his phone for the billionth time, he couldn’t help but examine the dog again. They’re big with soft fur and a fluffy tail which presses to their back. Maybe they’re a husky? It’s half reddish-brown and half white, covered in sand and dust from the masonry. They look adorable.
Kirishima turns into a side-street that’s a short cut to his and Bakugou’s apartment. He stops dead as he hears a sound on the edges of his hearing. He slowly puts his phone into his pocket and listens. There’s more skittering of something thin scratching the ground and something is coming towards him. Kirishima braces himself for action.
He jumps a little when a four-legged blur rushes out from another street, but relaxes when he realises it’s the dog from earlier today. The dogs whoos and barks, attempting to place their front paws on his shoulders.
“Hey, calm down there… uh,” Kirishima glances down, “there boy. Calm down.”
The dog does calm down, setting down onto all his paws again. He looks up at Kirishima, still covered in dust and sand. He looks like the happiest puppy in the world.
In that moment, Kirishima knows he is well and truly fucked. He gets down onto one knee and starts petting and the dog snuggles into him, tail wagging.
“What’re you doing here, buddy?” The dog doesn’t answer. “Right, you can’t speak can you, buddy?” The dog, as if to express indignation, whoos and fixes Kirishima with a glare. Oh god, if only Bakugou could see this right now.
“Let’s see who you belong to, eh, buddy?” Kirishima says, reaching around for a collar. He stops when he finds there isn’t one. “What? I guess you’re lost, buddy?” The dog whoos again.
Kirishima has an idea. An awful idea. An awfully brilliant idea. “Hey buddy?” The dog tilts his head. “Wanna come home with me?”
Kirishima’s keys clink loudly as he scrambles to open his apartment door. It had taken minimal coaxing to get the dog to follow him down the street and up some stairs to his and Bakugou’s apartment. As they both step in, the dog pushes past him and starts eagerly exploring. It’s impossibly endearing, but he’s getting dust everywhere.
“Hey, c’mon buddy. Bath-time!” The dog turns and his ears flatten to his skull, making his head round and soft and oh that’s a cavity waiting to happen. “I know bud, but you need one. I’ll give you a treat?” The dog’s behaviour turns right around at that. “Good boy.”
Soon, Kirishima is kneeling at the side of their substantial tub, washing down the dog’s soft fur with warm water. He really needs a shampoo for this. As he washes, the muddy red of the dog’s coat grows lighter. It’s not nearly as red as his hair, but it looks nice.
“Hey, bud.” The dog turns. “Would you like a name?” The dog whoos. “Okay, how about… Red?” Kirishima isn’t exactly the most creative with names. However, Red doesn’t seem concerned and simply bark and wags his tail, sending water across the bathroom. “Haha, glad you like it too.”
A few minutes later, as Kirishima is struggling to dry Red, he hears the front door close.
“Eijirou, I’m home.”
Okay, now here comes the difficult part. Kirishima shushes Red as he gets up.
“Stay here, bud. I’ll be back in a minute.” Red doesn’t seem happy at the prospect, ears wilting, but he does as he’s told and stands still. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”
“What’s that, Eijirou? Where the hell are you?”
“Shit, gotta go.”
Kirishima closes the bathroom door behind him just as Bakugou turns the corner. He grins and closes the distance, pulling Bakugou into a strong embrace. Since high school, they’ve both grown but Kirishima especially. He now has a slight height and breath advantage and he uses both here as he encompasses Bakugou fully.
“Hi love. How was work?”
Bakugou tries and fails to subtly nuzzle into Kirishima’s chest. He’s terrible at being subtle. “Fucking boring. I despise paperwork, I don’t see why I still have to do that crap.”
“Don’t be rude, it’s part of our jobs remember?” Kirishima lightly admonishes. “And you wouldn’t have to do it anyway if you hadn’t blown up those street-lamps last time.”
“They fucking deserved it…” Bakugou pauses and pulls away, which Kirishima allows. “Also, why the fuck are you all wet?”
“Uh, well…” Shit, stall! “Y’know I got involved in a mission today?”
A wicked grin sets Bakugou’s face alight. “Did I fucking ever. Lucky bastard.” Now Bakugou’s the one closing distance, lining his crotch up to Kirishima’s thigh. Oh.
It wasn’t a surprise that Bakugou got turned on by Kirishima being badass and heroic. This wasn’t the first time. Usually, Kirishima would take full advantage of that. His boyfriend was insatiable. Right now though, that’s not an option.
“Hey, Katsuki?” Kirishima murmurs as Bakugou leans in and starts biting at his neck. Fuck, that feels nice. The fact that others could see a mark there makes it a thousand times better.
“Yeah?” Bakugou stops moving his hands under his shirt – when did those get there? “What is it, Eiji? I want you so bad right now.” Lightning surges up Kirishima’s back and his breathing goes staccato.
“Did you see the photo?” He pushes out.
Bakugou pauses, his brow creasing into a frown. “What photo?”
As if on cue, there’s a loud bang from the bathroom.
“Shitty hair… what the fuck is that?” Bakugou’s voice carries an edge of warning. Kirishima separates himself from Bakugou and walks over to the door. He takes one deep breath. Two. He opens it and Red bounds out and immediately goes for Bakugou. Bakugou, not expecting it, gets barrelled over and barely avoids cracking his skull on the coffee table.
Kirishima winces. For a long, awkward moment, there is calm. The calm before the storm.
“Uh… I can explain?”
It takes a lot of convincing before Bakugou allows Red to stay. Some of which includes blowjobs for the month.
“Just until we find his owners. Then he’s gone.”
That’s fair. Kirishima wouldn’t want to steal such a great dog from their family either. Though whenever he thinks of giving Red back, he frowns a little. He loves dogs, always has. He was one of those kids who always bugged his parents for a pet, but never got one. His parents had tried to chill him out by taking him to pet care centres and letting him play with the animals there. He’d loved it and learnt a lot about how to look after pets from those visits. Still, there’s nothing to be done. He’s a hero, after all. He still buys some toys and food and a lead. Even if it’s only for a little while, he wants Red to feel comfortable.
There’s no collar, so the next step is checking for a chip. An hour of waiting in the vets (and many autographs) later, he learns there is one. He also learns that Red is an Alaskan Malamute. Apparently, the blue eyes are a genetic fault and suggest he has some husky in his background. According to the nurse, there have been occasions where breeders have given up dogs because of such faults, though having one end up on the streets is rare. She says that Red must not have been wild long, because his weight is healthy for a dog of his breed coming up on a year old and he’s very friendly. Kirishima is so ecstatic at the idea that Red will be growing even bigger that the realisation that he might have been abandoned hits him like a truck. He rings the number they give him, but no-one answers. Not even a dial tone. Quickly running out of options, Kirishima decides to use his secret weapon. The internet.
He takes a few pictures of Red. Maybe more than was strictly needed. Sue him he’s so awesome! It’s difficult to find the best picture! He posts it with the caption:
‘Found this awesome guy when I was working this week. Trying to find his owner, please PM if any details! xoxo’.
It blows up immediately.
While Kirishima waits for information, he spends his free time bonding with Red. He’s strong for being so young and active too. If Kirishima doesn’t take him on runs, he’ll start bouncing off the walls. Despite this, and Bakugou’s multiple warnings that he’ll knock something over, he’s nimble. Red navigates their apartment with a grace that shouldn’t exist in such a body but it’s impressive to watch all the same. Even Bakugou is begrudgingly impressed when Red seamlessly flows around their coffee table to get to the front door.
Red is also talkative. While sometimes he will only ‘speak’ in snuffles, he occasionally shifts to deep whoo noises and the odd bark. There are occasions when he and Red have full ‘conversations’ which involve Kirishima talking about whatever he wants and Red making sounds in reply. Kirishima swears he’s already figured out the sound for ‘yes’, ‘no’ and ‘feed me’. Bakugou joins in at one point, mostly telling them to shut up. Red whoos quietly at him, ears pressed onto his head and tail wagging hard. After that, Bakugou doesn’t object to the talking as much.
He quickly learns to respond to his name, ears pricking when he hears it from across the room. Whoever had him before must have trained him because he knows a few commands like sitting and staying. He would make a good therapy dog.
Kirishima’s getting ahead of himself. He knows that. It’s temporary. Soon, they’ll find Red’s owner and he’ll go home and this’ll just be a memory.
It’s two weeks in and no-one shows up. No-one who isn’t a scammer anyway. It doesn’t really surprise Kirishima but its oddly upsetting. How could such a good boy not have a home that loved him?
Bakugou, despite his initial declaration to the contrary, starts to get used to Red. It’s small things. Like how the food bowl is never empty or how Bakugou doesn’t blow up every time he sees Red’s fur on the couch. He still complains, but Bakugou wouldn’t be Bakugou if he didn’t. Bakugou even takes Red out on walks when Kirishima is at work or too tired. He says it’s because he doesn’t want his house torn apart but Kirishima knows better. Bakugou seems like a dog person too.
Kirishima knows what he wants to do. He knew it as soon as he came home to Red sitting in the doorway and jumping up to him for cuddles. He knew it when he and Bakugou were sitting up to watch a movie and Red doesn’t move from around their legs once. Hell, he probably knew it when he first saw those baby blues. But he’s finding it difficult to ask Bakugou about it.
A manly life is one lived without regrets, but Kirishima doesn’t want to be selfish about this. He and Bakugou are partners, so of course he wants Bakugou to want it to. So, he waits patiently for Bakugou to crack. Bakugou would be foolish to think that Kirishima has a limited supply of puppy eyes to give him. Pun definitely intended.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to wait long. One night, Kirishima is gently jostled awake by a shift on their shared mattress. He moves to turn around, groaning in place of words. An uncharacteristically quiet but clear voice answers him.
“Go back to sleep, Eiji.”
Kirishima groans again, but this time it forms at least part of a sentence.
“Wha’s’rong?”
He hears a chuckle.
“Nothing, idiot. I’m just getting a drink.”
Kirishima feels heat press against his bare back and moans softly as Bakugou’s lips press on his neck. It’s chaste and an affirmation Kirishima has long since learnt the meaning for. ‘I need to process shit’.
Stuff like this used to happen a lot more when he and Bakugou were younger. When they were more unsure and more afraid. Bakugou isn’t an emotions person. He’s been getting better, but there are still times when talking is beyond him and he simply needs a moment. Kirishima remembers how much he pushed Bakugou when they first got together. To talk, to communicate, to confess. Bakugou, bless him, tried. He’d tried so hard he ended up having a breakdown over how he should say the things he wanted to say. After that, Kirishima became more patient and slowly they began to figure out how to communicate in their own unique way.
They’d gotten so good at it that they could tell things from a touch, a glance, a momentary shift of the hips. That didn’t mean they were invasive about it. Love is built on trust, not possession. And right now, Bakugou was telling Kirishima he wanted to deal with whatever this was on his own.
“’Kay…” he mumbles out. It’s fine. Bakugou will tell him what’s wrong if it’s serious. He trusts him on that. They’re partners. “’Ove you.”
Another chuckle, right next to Kirishima’s ear. He shivers a little and can barely stop himself from pouting as the heat recedes and Bakugou starts walking out the room. He hears Bakugou pause at the frame and take a deep breath.
“Love you too.”
And he leaves.
Kirishima lies in the dark, attempting to go back to sleep again. He slips in and out of snoozes but he knows he won’t be able to truly sleep again until he knows Bakugou is okay. He can still worry, alright? That’s one of the things he does best. He can’t tell exactly how long it’s been, but it was more than an hour at least.
Maybe I should get a drink too. Kirishima thinks.
He walks into the living room and initially he doesn’t see anything. Nothing except a mug on the side and their TV which is turned onto a game-show with no sound. In the flickering red and blues, it takes a second for his eyes to catch a red ear behind the coffee table.
Red? When Kirishima crosses the living room, he is met with what must single-handily be the most adorable sight in the whole of time and everything.
Red is lying out on the ground, back facing away from the screen. His body lays across Bakugou’s snoring form. Bakugou’s nose is shoved into Red’s neck, blonde swirling messily into red and white. An arm reaches around to hold him in place. Though it doesn’t seem needed since Red doesn’t look like he’d rather be anywhere else. Red’s tail bats the table leg and he lets out a gruff snuffle in greeting before he places his head protectively on Bakugou’s. Bakugou groans.
“Shut up, Fleabag…” Bakugou snuggles his face closer and Kirishima realises too late that he needs a picture of this. He looks around for a camera or his phone. Anything. But he finds nothing and soon he hears his beloved again. “What the fuck are you doing here Eijirou?”
Bakugou has shifted slightly, still holding onto Red but no longer hiding in his fur. In the flickering light, it’s difficult to see the flush, but it’s there. Bingo.
“Well, I could answer that.” Kirishima grins. “But then I’d have to ask you why you’re snuggling with our dog on the living room floor at-“, he glances at a clock, “3:30 in the morning.”
There’s silence. “He’s warm…” Bakugou mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. As an afterthought, he adds, “and he’s not our dog.”
“No,” Kirishima goes down onto one knee, hanging over Bakugou. “And you’re totally not the most handsome man in the world who I love more than life itself.”
Bakugou groans and hides from Kirishima’s grin in Red’s neck, further incriminating himself.
“You’re a sadist and I hate you.” He bites back out of habit. There’s no fire behind it.
Kirishima chuckles, carding his fingers in Bakugou’s mushed hair. “Then you’re a masochist and I love you.”
Bakugou shifts away from Red and fixes him with a glare. In the changing light his eyes sparkle like rubies. God, Kirishima is so gay. “My mother is a terrible influence on you…”
“Hey, give me a little credit.” Kirishima pauses. “I learnt it from you.”
“Pfft, fucker.” A flash of a grin shows through and Kirishima’s heart almost thuds so fast he has a heart attack on the spot. Dammit, they’ve been dating for how long? He’s brought out of his musings by Bakugou again, who is slowly extricating himself from Red. Red doesn’t seem so happy with the arrangement, but he co-operates nonetheless. “We’re getting him chipped.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way!” Kirishima helps Bakugou to his feet with one hand and immediately drags him forward in a heated kiss. Bakugou pulls back after a moment and splutters.
“What the fuck was that about?” The flush is already creeping past his cheeks onto his neck. Kirishima can feel the heat from here and wants nothing more than to bask in it. So, he does.
“I’m ecstatic you’re finally seeing things my way, but if I don’t fuck you in the next five minutes, I think I am literally going to die of cutie overload.”
There’s more spluttering but Bakugou doesn’t back away. Instead, he attempts to turn the tables.
“And who says you’ll be fucking me, eh?” Oh Bakugou, you dug your own grave my dear.
“Is that a challenge, Katsuki?” He hovers on the name, letting it slide off his tongue like liquid gold. “Well, I wouldn’t mind losing it either.”
Bakugou snorts and leans in close, looping his arms around Kirishima’s neck and pressing his entire front up against him. He has to stand on his toes just a little to reach his ears and Kirishima can’t help but get turned on by that.
“Challenge accepted, motherfucker.” He breathes like he’s reciting love poetry and fuck Kirishima’s sold. His energy brims over and with a yell he hauls Bakugou up (going for a tasteful butt grab as he goes) and runs to their bedroom. Bakugou is stuck between laughing and swearing and Red is confused but enjoying that his new masters are happy.
The next day, the adoption papers are signed and the Bakugou family officially has a new member.