Work Text:
Today was not going well for Eijirou. In hindsight, he probably should’ve known that it wouldn’t after how shit his morning had been, with his waking up an hour late for work this morning, followed by a delay and an overly crowded commute. He sighed quietly before his thought process was rudely interrupted by the incessant beeping of the smoke alarm for the third time that night.
“Shit. Shit.” He muttered, sprinting over to his small kitchenette, coughing and fanning smoke as he made his way to the source of the problem- his mac’n’cheese- or at least, what would’ve been. He grabbed the pot, wincing at the heat, and placed it under the running water of his sink, carefully maneuvering around the other burnt pots of his last couple of attempts.
Once the ruined food was dumped and the pot washed, Eijirou slumped down into one of his dining room chairs in defeat, moments away from throwing in the towel and ordering takeout once again when he heard a quiet knock on his door.
Eijirou looked up curiously, dragging himself up and to the door, opening it to find a tired, scruffy man who looked as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in at least a decade. Eijirou was about 45% sure the strange man standing before him was his neighbor. (He had seen the man lurking around the halls a couple of times at odd hours, but had never seen him actually enter any of the rooms.)
The strange maybe-neighbor gave Eijirou a once-over, noting the obvious look of defeat plastered on his face. He also shot a quick glance inside to the sink piled with burnt pots. After a few awkward moments in silence, he spoke.
“The man living in the apartment above you is a professional chef. So if you’re having trouble with your cooking, please bother him instead of waking me up with your smoke alarm every twenty minutes.” He stated in a monotone mutter before slinking away through the open door of the apartment to his left.
Eijirou blinked, that wasn’t really how he had expected this scenario to end. He stood in his doorway for another minute, turning and glancing at the wreck that was his kitchen before closing the door and making his way for the stairs leading up to the floor above. He had no idea who this chef dude was, but if there was any chance that he could help Eijirou, well, he couldn’t just pass it up. So off he went.
Eijirou makes it about halfway up the stairs before he realizes how strange what he's doing is. He's literally never met this guy and yet, he's gonna ask him to help him cook? Eijirou has no idea how this guy will react. He goes to turn around before realizing he's already made it to the door.
He pauses upon realizing this and mutters a quiet, "Fuck it…" and knocks before he can change his mind.
A few minutes of silence pass, and Eijirou is starts to turn around, gratefully assuming that the man isn't home. Then the door opens. Eijirou's eyes widen and he quickly turns back around, meeting the intense gaze of probably the most attractive man Eijirou's ever seen. The man is a little taller than Eijirou is and has ashy blond hair and deep red eyes that contrast very nicely with his cream colored skin. Eijirou's staring is interrupted abruptly as the man starts to speak.
"Who the fuck are you and why are you knocking on my door?" The man questions in a gruff voice.
Eijirou blinks and blushes a deep red before answering quietly, "Oh- er… I'm Kirishima Eijirou!" When his answer is met with silence and an unimpressed glare, he decides to shakily continue.
"Uh, I know we've never met, but I've burned literally all of my pots trying to make Mac'n'cheese and my neighbor said that you were a chef, please help ." He rushes through his words before carefully glancing up at the other man.
The man stares at him with contempt before closing his eyes and sighing as he rubs at his temples, as if what Eijirou had said has given him a headache.
"Goddamnit, Aizawa." He mutters to himself before opening his eyes once more and glancing back to Eijirou. "What's in it for me if I help you?"
Eijirou smiles, and in a moment of confidence, jokingly answers, "You'll be graced by my wonderful company." He punctuates the bold claim with a wink, because at this point, why the hell not.
The man stares at him and scoffs in disbelief, a slight flush tinting his face pink. Finally, after what felt like forever, the man looks away and answers.
"Fucking Whatever." He mumbles, turning and walking back into the apartment.
Eijirou stands there uncertainly before rushing in after him, quietly closing the door behind them.
"I-uh… didn't get your name?" Eijirou prompts as he stands next to the man. The man doesn't say anything for a good couple of minutes, and Eijirou's almost certain that he's not going to get an answer when the man quietly does just that.
"Bakugou." His reply was curt, and he seemed almost completely preoccupied with taking out different ingredients and other things related to cooking.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Bakugou!" Eijirou gives him a bright smile as he looks around at all the stuff Bakugou has gathered on the counter. "So what's all this for?" He asks curiously.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, sizing Eijirou up with an intense gaze that made Eijirou blush lightly, "We're going to make Mac'n'cheese."
Eijirou nods quietly and moves closer, "So what do we do first?"
~~~
It took about 45 minutes, a lot of confusion and mistakes made on Eijirou's part, and even more frustration on Bakugou's, but the dish that came out of their efforts turned out relatively impressive.
Eijirou watches as Bakugou takes out a couple plates, carefully setting them down on the table.
"You gonna help, or just stand there gawking, Shitty Hair?" Bakugou growls, giving Eijirou a side-eye. He pauses before quietly adding, "Grab the dish and bring it in here."
Eijirou blushes and nods, quickly doing just that.
"Thank you for agreeing to do this." Eijirou smiles and continues, "You totally could've just turned me away instead. I really appreciate it, man."
"Whatever. I needed to make something anyway." Bakugou grunts, but Eijirou doesn't fail to notice the slight tint to Bakugou's face. Bakugou takes a seat, gesturing for Eijirou to do the same. "I also, didn't… hate cooking with you, I guess. Even though you are absolutely clueless."
The brightness of Eijirou's smile probably rivaled that of the sun's as he replies, "Awe, thanks bro! I really loved cooking with you too!"
Bakugou subverts his gaze, face a deep red, "Whatever, Shitty hair." Bakugou carefully distributes the food between the two plates, scooting a plate to Eijirou once he finished.
Eijirou takes the plate gratefully, taking a bite and letting out a hum of delight, "This is really good!"
Bakugou scoffs, "'Course it is, I made it."
Eijirou laughs quietly and takes another bite, "Yeah, it definitely is because of you."
~
And so it began, Eijirou would wander up to Bakugou's about three times a week and they would cook together, granted, Bakugou was the one doing a majority of the cooking, but Eijirou helped out wherever he could. They also spent time together outside of this, Bakugou having slowly integrated himself into Eijirou's group of close friends, but Eijirou found that he enjoyed spending time with Bakugou alone during their cooking sessions the most.
It had been a few months since that first night, and Eijirou was starting to get the hang of this cooking thing. He was sure Bakugou had noticed too, as the man had started to allow Eijirou to do more as the days progressed.
Tonight in particular was somewhat noteworthy. Bakugou had, after a lengthy bit of instruction, let him handle a knife.
Eijirou had been doing pretty okay, managing decently even cuts, although his work was apparently too slow for Bakugou's taste. The aforementioned man had appeared behind Eijirou, placing his hand over Eijirou's on the knife, gradually speeding up and evening out the cuts.
"Do it like this…" Bakugou muttered breathily, making the hair on the back of Eijirou's neck stand up. Eijirou could feel the warmth that emanated from him, and wow, having Bakugou's arms around him felt really nice.
Bakugou stepped back carefully and Eijirou couldn't help but stare, which was quite the mistake seeing as he hadn't stopped slicing. Eijirou felt a sharp, hot pain on his index finger, causing him to suck in a sharp breath as he looked down. " Ow- shit! "
Bakugou rushes over, eyes wide in barely concealed worry. He gingerly takes Eijirou's hand, leading the other man to the table before grabbing the first aid kit from its place on the wall. He quickly and expertly bandages Eijirou's finger in silence.
"Sorry about that…" Eijirou mumbles, breaking the silence that had enveloped the both of them. He takes his hand back, poking at the bandaged finger and wincing.
"Don't apologize…" Bakugou sighs, taking Eijirou's hand again and coaxing him to rest it on the table. After a couple minutes, he stands up, moving to the kitchen to continue cooking, "Just… be more careful next time."
Eijirou nods and follows Bakugou into the kitchen, standing around idly, unsure of what to do.
Bakugou looks back at him, "Don't just stand around, help me finish washing the vegetables."
Eijirou laughs quietly and joins the other man at the sink.
~
An hour passes, the time filled by a comfortable silence, interrupted only by short instructions being given and the occasional apology when the two men would accidentally bump into each other in the relatively small kitchen.
Eijirou smiles as he places the completed dish on the table in front of them, taking a seat next to Bakugou and dishing out servings for the both of them. It had been quite a while since Eijirou had felt this at home, a feeling which he relishes in as he eats, shooting short glances at Bakugou from the corner of his every couple minutes.
Near the end of the meal, Bakugou looks at him and asks, "So, what caused your little freak out earlier, you had been doing really well before it?
Eijirou blushes, purposefully avoiding Bakugou's inquiring gaze, "I dunno… just got distracted, I guess."
Bakugou didn't look very convinced, raising an eyebrow at him as he spoke, "By what, exactly?"
Eijirou only blushes darker. 'You. It's always you.' he thinks to himself offhandedly.
A few moments in silence pass, his attention only turning back to Bakugou when he hears a loud clatter, which turns out to have been the fork Bakugou was using just a moment ago against his plate. Bakugou himself is staring right back at Eijirou, eyes wide and face as red as Eijirou's hair.
"What?" Is all Bakugou seems to be able to say, and only then does Eijirou realize that he had said that out loud.
Eijirou blinks, turning more red by the second, stumbling over his words, "O-oh god, I didn't mean to- to say that out loud!" He tries to hide his extremely red face behind his hands, with debatable success.
Bakugou sits there in silence for a few moments before blinking, snapping out of the confused stupor Eijirou's comment had sent him into. He mutters a quiet, "Fuck…" , gingerly removing Eijirou's hands from in front of his face. Eijirou squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the worst. Bakugou brushes a strand of hair out of his face- he had worn it down today after being too tired to fix it up earlier- and adds, somehow quieter, "Fucking dumbass… I-"
Eijirou pulls away from his touch, finally opening his eyes as he interrupts the other man, "No- I'm sorry… I- I have to go." He feels hot tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he stands in an attempt to leave before feeling a hand on his wrist.
"Kirishima, wait!" Bakugou calls, but Eijirou takes his hand away, making for the door before Bakugou has the chance to reach out again. He quickly and quietly grabs his things and rushes out the door, not quite ready to face the inevitable rejection of his stupid crush.
~
Katsuki watches as Kirishima leaves, a hurt look on his face. "Fucking shit. " He slinks back down into his chair, running a hand through his hair. He debates on whether or not he should try to go after him, ultimately deciding not to, wanting to give the other man a little space.
He regrets never learning what apartment Kirishima lives in, having always hung out at his place or outside of the apartments altogether. Quietly, Katsuki finishes his meal and puts away the leftovers before retiring to bed, he'll need the extra sleep to do what he plans on doing tomorrow.
~
It's about three in the afternoon when the click of a lock followed by the sound of the front door bursting open wakes Shouta from his nap. He grumbles, peeking open one eye, sighing as he sees a pair of legs enter his field of vision. Reluctantly, he sits up, finally meeting the eyes of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.
"What do you want, Katsuki?" Shouta asks, refusing to get up from the floor or out of his puffy, yellow sleeping bag.
Bakugou sits down in the chair across from Shouta's nap spot, answering, "You got me into this mess, so now you're going to help me get out of it."
Shouta raises an eyebrow, finally exiting the sleeping bag to enter the kitchen to place the tea kettle on the stove. "What exactly did I do to get you into this mess?"
Bakugou sighs in frustration, "You're the one who sent him knocking on my door three months ago."
Shouta gives Bakugou a pointed stare, deadpanning, "I apologize for being fed up with your habit of bursting in to my home at odd hours to complain about the 'stupid fucking hot guy who lives somewhere in the building, how fucking dare he'."
Bakugou chooses not to answer, his face adorned with a scowl that contradicted the bright red blush that took up residence from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears.
Shouta calmly takes the kettle off the stove as it begins to screech, pouring two cups and placing small bird diffusers that his husband, Hizashi, had bought for the both of them for their fifth anniversary. He places one of the cups in front of Bakugou and takes a seat on the sofa across from him.
"So, did you only come here to blame me for something I did months ago, or did you actually need something?" Shouta asks, taking a sip of his tea.
"I… what's Kirishima's apartment number?" Bakugou asks reluctantly, "He said something that caught me off guard and then he freaked out and left, and I want to talk to him."
Shouta nods, "He lives in the apartment next to mine, to the left." After placing down his teacup, "And please, next time you decide that you want to burst into my house, knock."
Bakugou rolls his eyes and stands up, making his way for the door as he calls out, "Thanks, I guess. Tell Yamada I said hello."
Shouta has barely enough time to nod in acknowledgement before Bakugou is out the door.
Shouta shakes his head and stands up, some things never change.
~
If you asked Eijirou what he had done for the past day, probably one of the last things he would have admitted to is the truth. He had spent the past day sulking and watching sappy, made-for-tv movies, to put it short. He had yesterday and today off anyway, so it wasn't like there was much else to do.
As the credits begin to roll for the seventh movie, Eijirou manages to pry himself off of the couch, wincing at the sound of his joints popping, due to the fact he hadn't moved in at least eight hours.
He haphazardly drags himself into the kitchen to make coffee in an attempt to chase away any and all hints of fatigue that would otherwise have consumed him by now.
He's drained two cups and is getting ready to make a third when his attention is caught by a short set of knocks on his door. 'That's strange, I wasn't expecting anyone… Mina and Kami like to visit unannounced, but neither of them knock when they do.' Another set of knocks, quieter this time, snap him back to reality, "Coming, coming!" He calls, placing down his coffee mug.
He hastily unlocks and opens it a little, only to find himself staring into the intense crimson eyes of the same man he had been actively trying to avoid thinking about all day.
"Oh…" Eijirou tries not to sound rude, quickly replacing the blank look on his face with a blinding smile, opening the door fully. "Uh, come in! I've got some freshly-brewed coffee in the pot." He turns and bolts into the kitchen, not sure he can stand being in close vicinity to Bakugou after what had happened.
He watches as Bakugou follows him in, closing the door behind him. He grabs a mug off the rack and pours himself a cup of coffee and seats himself on the counter. Under other circumstances, Eijirou would be delighted to have Bakugou over, but right now, this is the last thing Eijirou could’ve hoped for.
They stay there drinking for no more than a couple minutes, but the awkward atmosphere that permeates through the silence makes every second feel like an eternity.
Eventually, Bakugou breaks the silence, “So, uh, about yesterday… What happened?” He doesn’t meet Eijirou’s gaze, which Eijirou is honestly relieved about; however, not enough to truly calm his frayed nerves.
“I- er… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said what I said.” He runs a quick hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean to say it, and I completely understand if you don’t want to hang out with me anymore…”
Bakugou blinks, finally turning to look at Eijirou, and damn, it should be illegal to look as cute as he does with that confused look on his face… and have his eyes always been that pretty- shit, focus Eijirou!
Eijirou realizes that he completely missed what Bakugou had said due to his staring. Blushing, he asks, “Uh, I didn’t quite catch that, could you repeat it?”
Bakugou raises an eyebrow, but repeats his previously missed statement, “I said, why do you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”
Eijirou pauses, now just as confused as Bakugou, “Because I like you? And there’s absolutely no way in hell you’d like someone like me of all people…”
Bakugou stares at him for a long moment, as if studying him. He stands up and walks over to Eijirou, who turns away, expecting rejection. What he does not expect is for Bakugou to carefully take ahold of his face, looking him dead in the eyes as he speaks.
“You’re a fucking moron, Eijirou.” And if Eijirou wasn’t already blushing at the use of his given name, he definitely does as he watches Bakugou’s gaze quickly but deliberately flicker down to his lips and back, clearly announcing his intent.
Eijirou gives a slight nod, too flustered to properly speak. Just like that, Bakugou’s lips are on his, and oh wow, all the time spent watching Bakugou’s lips and imagining had nothing on the real thing. Bakugou’s hands cradle his face and he runs a hand through his surprisingly soft hair- something he’s wanted to do for ages- the other wrapped around his neck.
It’s over all too quickly in Eijirou’s opinion, but as Bakugou pulls away, he can’t help but smile at the other man’s flushed complexion and mussed hair.
“So, I guess you like me too?” Eijirou asks breathily.
“No shit, dumbass.” Bakugou replies with a smirk, leaning in for another kiss before interrupted by a loud rumbling originating from Eijirou’s stomach.
Eijirou blinks, suppressing his laughter before giving in at the sight of Bakugou’s confused stare. Bakugou quietly joins in after a moment, and it occurs to Eijirou that he had never heard Bakugou actually laugh. His own laughter stops almost abruptly, staring at him with what he was sure was a starstruck look in his eyes.
Katsuki’s laughter subsides and he looks questioningly at Kirishima, beginning to speak, “What’s wro-” He’s interrupted by Kirishima’s lips meeting his once again. This kiss is shorter than the other, but softer and more meaningful in a way Katsuki can’t fully explain.
They pull away, breathless. “What was that for?” Katsuki asks as he stares at Kirishima
Kirishima is quick to answer, “I’ve never heard you laugh…” He pauses and adds, “You should do it more often, Katsuki…”
Just like that, Katsuki’s reduced to a blushing mess, like some kind of young school girl, or worse- Deku. “Fucking shit, Eijirou, you’re going to be the death of me…”
Eijirou only laughs, taking Katsuki’s hand from where it’s situated at his side, dragging him over to the door, “C’mon Katsuki , you heard my stomach, let’s go cook.”
Katsuki laughs quietly, letting his boyfriend drag him up the flight of stairs to his apartment. He quietly reminds himself to find a time to go down and thank Shouta for helping as he prepares food for himself and Eijirou-who is watching Katsuki work happily-. He decides that he’ll probably make something for him and Yamada. He nods to himself before pushing those thoughts away, plating the food. It’s crazy to believe that this all started because of a few burnt pots and poor cooking skills, but as Katsuki looks at Eijirou, he decides that he wouldn’t have it any other way.