Work Text:
Kirishima is dead-tired--he never thought it would be so troublesome to make coffee for people, but man, it was. His boss was being an asshole all day about everything he did, customers were exceptionally annoying (probably on purpose because they hate him), the espresso machine malfunctioned, and he had to work, like, three extra fucking hours because his dumbass coworker decided to not show up for her shift.
But he’s on the way home, so all is well.
As soon as he opens the front door of his apartment, he smells the most heavenly thing. Chocolate cake. Heellll yyeessss.
See, Kirishima never really sees his roommate much. He’s rather elusive, and their conflicting schedules and work hours certainly don’t help that matter. Every now and then, however, Kirishima will come out of his bedroom or come home from work to find him in the kitchen, baking over-the-top sweets or cooking up fancy meals.
Kirishima would be insane to complain about this, frankly. He always gets first dibs on all the food his roommate makes. Even if his roommate gets a bit grumpy about it, he’ll always begrudgingly let Kirishima take the first bite or cut the first slice. It’s pretty gnarly.
He rounds the corner into the kitchen and sees Bakugou smoothing chocolate frosting onto a cake. The whole damn apartment smells like chocolatey goodness and Kirishima couldn’t be happier. This is the perfect way to remedy a stressful day at work.
Bakugou looks up at him blankly with a nod before returning to smoothing out the top of the cake.
“What’s up, man? Makin’ some cake?” he says with a mischievous grin.
“No shit. As soon as I’m done frosting it, I’m gonna do little swirls on the top with raspberries on ‘em. I dunno if I’m gonna put a raspberry or chocolate shavings in the center.” Kirishima attempts to take a swipe of the leftover frosting in the bowl, much to Bakugou’s chagrin. “Oi, don’t go eating all the fuckin’ frosting, I just said I still have to do swirls with them!” he yells, batting Kirishima’s hand away fervently.
He just shrugs halfheartedly. “I think chocolate shavings would be cuter. What flavor is it inside?”
“The cake is devil’s food and the frosting is chocolate-raspberry with chunks of raspberry in it. It’s not really frosting, though, it’s like a hybrid between frosting and ganache. ‘Cause that shit? Tasty. ” Kirishima laughs. Bakugou puts down the spatula and grabs the empty piping bag next to it.
“That sounds fucking delicious, ” Kirishima says, as Bakugou begins to shovel frosting into the piping bag. “Also, hey, just so you know, Kaminari is coming over tomorrow, around like noon or something.” Bakugou sighs at this.
“Is that the fucking idiot one?” Kirishima opens his mouth to answer, but Bakugou cuts him off. “You know, don’t even answer that, because all of your friends are idiots.” He begins piping out the decorative swirls, each one as precise as the last. Kirishima sticks out his lip in a pout.
“They’re not all idiots!” he whines. Bakugou looks at him and raises his eyebrows. “Okay, well, most of them are idiots. But not all! Momo is, like, crazy smart! I’m pretty sure she was valedictorian of her high school.”
“The sugar momma of your friend’s ex does not count as one of your friends. Sorry to break it to you,” Bakugou replies, placing the bag down and turning to get something out of the fridge.
“Jirou is not just ‘my friend’s ex,’ she’s a part of the group! And Momo is not her sugar momma. She’s just… her rich girlfriend.”
He turns back around with a container of raspberries in hand and sighs. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I work tomorrow. Plus, I need to get groceries after work, because your sorry ass refuses to. I probably won’t be home until after he’s left.”
Kirishima shrugs. “Just thought I’d let you know.” Bakugou carefully places the raspberries precisely onto each of the swirls with an intense look of concentration on his face. Finally, after placing the last one down, he takes a slight step back and grins.
“So can I have a slice now?” Kirishima asks impatiently.
Bakugou ignores him, pulling out his phone. He takes a few (a.k.a. like thirty) photos of the cake from different angles before pulling out a knife to slice it with.
Kirishima sighs as he watches him take photos of the individual slice. Every goddamn time.
After the fucking photoshoot is over with, Bakugou slides the plate over to Kirishima, along with a fork. He watches him expectantly, waiting for him to take a bite and critique it as always.
And, as always, it tastes like God Himself jizzed inside of Kirishima’s mouth.
“God, this tastes so fucking good, ” he says, mouth still stuffed full of cake. Bakugou grins.
“You’re damn right, it does.”
The next day, Kaminari arrives around one. Kirishima opens the door to see him standing there, grin on his face. He’s got a massively oversized windbreaker on that looks like he stole it directly from someone in the ‘80s and pretentious circular shades (probably stolen from his roommate, Sero). How typical of him to look like he’s trying as hard as possible to be ‘hip.’
Kirishima lets him in and guides him to the kitchen where, of course, the decadent cake Bakugou made sits on the counter. At the sight of it, Kaminari freezes in his tracks.
“Dude, this looks like heaven on a plate! How the fuck did you manage to win the roommate jackpot?!” Kaminari exclaims. Kirishima laughs at his antics and shrugs.
“I dunno, man, but it’s amazing. I was thinking about asking him to make, like, a German chocolate cake -- you know, with the coconut? Because, seriously, can you imagine those flavors with his skill?”
“Holy shit, you’re such a genius,” Kaminari replies in awe. “It would taste so fucking good, dude. I mean, not like everything he makes isn’t stellar, though.”
Kirishima grabs a knife off the counter and cuts two slices. As he’s scooping them onto plates, Kaminari looks at him nervously.
“Are you sure it’s okay to take a piece? I don’t wanna piss him off or anything.” Kirishima just chuckles and hands him the plate.
“As long as you tell him it tasted good, he won’t give a fuck. Trust me,” he says, which seems to sate Kaminari’s anxiety for the time being. Upon receiving the plate, he immediately takes a bite and moans.
“God, that’s so fucking good ,” he attempts to say, though it comes out muffled through the cake in his mouth. Kirishima laughs and guides him to the living room, where the television is busy playing reruns of Dr. Phil.
They sit there mindlessly watching it for an hour or so, commenting on how annoying the people are and, as Kaminari says, how Dr. Phil should just “bitch-slap that mom for being an abusive cuck.”
They’re so involved in the story of a woman who’s supposedly been pregnant for three years that they hardly even notice the front door opening and an angry Bakugou stepping into the apartment. He hardly bats an eye at them, walking to the kitchen where he places down five grocery bags. Mostly, they’re full of miscellaneous ingredients and sweets, but there’s some sort-of-nutritious foods mixed in there. Somewhere. Probably.
They do, however, notice when Bakugou stands in front of the television, hands on his hips, staring down menacingly at Kaminari.
“You take a fuckin’ piece of my cake, dunce-face?” he says in a tone of voice that’s clearly trying to be mad, but Kirishima sees right through it. He really doesn’t give a damn, he just wants to make a scene.
Kaminari, on the other hand, does not know that he doesn’t give a damn, and promptly gulps nervously.
“Chill, man, I let him have some. Kami, tell him you liked it and he’ll be happy. He just craves validation,” Kirishima says, making Bakugou scowl.
“That is not true, shitty hair--”
“Oh, well, it did taste really good, Bakugou! I mean, like, really good. Like, uhh, what’s that word for when you’re horny but, like, not for sex? Like, ‘I’m horny to eat that cake,’” laughs Kaminari. Kirishima grimaces.
“Dude, do you mean excited ?” he offers. Kaminari’s eyes light up.
“Yeah, man! Excited! I’m excited to eat that cake. Or, I was excited, since there’s not another piece to eat. Um. Yeah.”
Bakugou rubs a hand down his face with a sigh. He picks up the dirtied plates on the coffee table and walks silently into the kitchen. Kaminari smiles.
“That went well, right?”
Kirishima tries (and fails) to hold in his laughter.
After another hour or so of doing pretty much nothing, Kaminari stands and stretches.
“I should probably be heading out since it’s getting kinda late. I’ve gotta go to work pretty early tomorrow and I don’t wanna feel deader than usual,” he says, pulling on his discarded shoes. Kirishima walks him to the door and waves him goodbye. The door clicks shut behind him and Kirishima smiles. It’s been a good day.
He walks into the kitchen, which is practically Bakugou’s room by now, and is unsurprised to find him there. Today, it seems he’s kneading dough. Kirishima walks past him on the way to the fridge, bopping him on the shoulder as he passes.
“Hey, man, how’s your day been?” he asks, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and taking a sip. Bakugou stops kneading the dough for a moment, looking down at the counter.
“Am I approachable?” he asks, still staring intently at the dough. Kirishima looks at him quizzically.
“How so? I mean, you could stand to be more friendly, if that’s what you mean. Why?” Bakugou sighs and continues kneading.
“I mean, are people comfortable with me? Am I someone people… like? ” Kirishima moves to stand across from him, watching as he moulds the dough with a pensive look on his face.
“What’s got you all worried? Are you--do you like someone, or something?” Bakugou scoffs at this, but the light blush on his face and the wobble of his bottom lip give it away. He likes someone. Kirishima can’t hold in his smile at this. Mean, grumpy Bakugou really is just a softie! He knew it!
“Fuck off, that’s not it,” he says, but Kirishima knows better.
“It totally is. Oh my gosh, who do you like? Do I know them? Who is it?!”
Bakugou lets his head drop with a groan. “If I tell you, will you fucking drop it?” he growls. The redhead across from him excitedly nods. “It’s… fucking, it’s dunce-face, okay? Now fuck off.”
The grin on Kirishima’s face can only be described as shit-eating.
“You like Kaminari, don’t you, Squidward?” he sings. Bakugou glares at him.
“You said you’d drop it, prick.”
“Aw, yeah, but you know I can’t drop it now. It’s my best friend! I have to set you two up! It definitely makes my job easier knowing that he thinks you’re hot as hell,” he brags, taking another sip of water. “What happened to him just being some idiot, huh? ”
Bakugou scoops the dough off the counter and into a large bowl, covering the top with saran wrap. He sighs as he places it on the counter beside the fridge. As soon as his hands are free, he turns back to Kirishima and flips him off.
Kirishima mocks offense, placing his hand on his chest and sticking out his lip in a pout.
“Come ooonnnn , Bakubro! Tell me why he strikes your fancy! Why does he make your kokoro go doki doki?”
“He’s just so fuckin’-- dumb . He’s a goddamn bag of rocks. Every time he says something stupid, I just wanna punch him in the fucking face. With my face. Gently. You know, ‘cause he’s so fucking stupid.”
“It’s cause he’s a twink, isn’t it? He’s a twink-y dumb blonde and you are head over heels for it.” Bakugou scoffs.
“So what if I am?”
Kirishima laughs.
“Will you let me set you two up?” The face Bakugou makes is one of sheer disgust.
“Full offense, but why in the fuck would I ever let you anywhere near my love life?”
“Aw, come on! You already have, sorta. Let me play matchmaker just this once!”
“Fine,” Bakugou relents, “play your stupid fuckin’ games.” Kirishima practically squeals in delight.
“Awesome! Okay, so you know what you should do? You should make peach cobbler. That’s his, like, all-time favorite dessert. And make it while he’s over, so then when it’s done you can get him to try some while it’s still warm and delicious!”
Bakugou looks at him doubtfully.
“That’s basically what I already do with you. You’re telling me to give him food. He already fuckin’ takes my food, anyway. Why should it matter if it’s fresh?”
“Because! Bakubro! Trust me! He already thinks you’re a hunk, and if there’s any way to win Kaminari’s heart, then it’s food! Well, or music, but I don’t see you writing any songs, so…” Bakugou hmm s.
“I used to write songs. They were shitty as hell, and I pretty much only know drums, but still. That was… five years ago? Gross.”
Kirishima stares at him in disbelief.
“Is there anything you can’t do?!” he exclaims, making Bakugou huff out a laugh.
“Fuck no, there isn’t,” he replies with a prideful grin. Kirishima shakes his head.
“Anyways, next time he comes over, make peach cobbler! And while he’s busy fawning over your god-like baking skills, ask him to come over and hang out just you and him. Bribe him with more food. Trust me, man.” Bakugou just shakes his head and sighs.
“Fine, fuck, whatever. Just tell me the next time he’s coming over. I’ll do your dumbass request.”
As it turns out, the next time Kaminari comes over is only a week after that fateful conversation. Kirishima has yet to stop poking fun at Bakugou’s crush (god, he hates that word) for the entire seven days. The ingredients for peach cobbler have been sitting idly in their kitchen for, like, three days now, and Bakugou is getting tired of letting them go to waste.
He gets a text from Kirishima telling him that he’s on the way over with Kaminari in tow. Time to get baking.
The recipe is simple enough, at least compared to some things he’s made in the past. The most annoying part is having to peel and slice all the goddamn peaches.
He thinks back to when he made macarons and baklava. Never again.
By the time Kaminari and Kirishima arrive, he’s already got the peaches in the oven and the mixture for the topping in a bowl, ready to go. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Kaminari is walking into the kitchen excitedly.
“First of all, it smells fucking amazing in here. Second, Kiri told me you’re making peach cobbler?” he smiles. Bakugou feels a pang of endearment go through his heart and he forces down a doe-eyed smile. Fuckin’ twink making him get all mushy and shit. Fuck that.
“Yeah, I am. Won’t be done for another half hour or so, though. Why, ya want some?” he asks, despite the fact that he already knows the answer. So sue him if he just wants to hear the happiness in Kaminari’s voice.
“Uh, fuck yeah I do! That’s like, my favorite dessert, dude! Please tell me when it’s done,” he says almost desperately. Man, he must really like peach cobbler.
“Sure thing. You’ll be my taste tester since shitty hair refuses to do it this time. He apparently hates peach cobbler, which would’ve been nice to know before I bought the ingredients, but whatever.”
Kirishima never actually said this. In fact, he probably would’ve been delighted to try it. But, out of spite alone, Bakugou decides that he’ll have to wait to have some until Kaminari is long gone.
If Kirishima gets control over Bakugou’s love life, the least Bakugou deserves in return is the satisfaction of seeing him not get to eat his food. He knows he’ll go along with it, too, because it’ll ruin his ‘matchmaking plan’ if he doesn’t.
Kaminari leaves him to his business, which pretty much just consists of fucking off on his phone until the cobbler is done baking.
Bakugou hears the two of them laughing at whatever show they may be watching and sighs. He could be out there with them, but he could also stand in here alone for ten more minutes.
He knows which option he prefers.
Time passes quickly enough and he pulls the cobbler out of the oven. He calls out an oi, dunce face, and a beat later he hears Kirishima’s voice saying that’s you, idiot.
Kaminari’s head peeks around the corner, already sporting a wide grin. He walks up to Bakugou right as he’s pulling a knife out of the drawer to cut a piece with.
“Dude, it smells so fucking good, ” he says excitedly, watching with anticipation as Bakugou cuts out a square of it. Bakugou scoffs.
“Of course it smells good, I’m the one who made it.” Kaminari giggles and, in that moment, Bakugou wants to die. This was the best plan Kirishima has ever had in his life.
As soon as he hands the plate to Kaminari, he’s scarfing it down with upsettingly loud moans. Yeah, fuck, it’s good, but he doesn’t have to be so pornographic about it.
As he watches Kaminari eat (in a totally non-creepy way), he realizes he forgot to take any photos for his food blog.
Yes, he has a food blog. Shut the fuck up. It’s cool and plenty of people like his recipes.
“Fuck, I didn’t get any photos!” he exclaims, shocking Kaminari and almost making him choke. Once he finishes coughing down the bite in his mouth, he puts the plate down.
“...you can still take photos, you know. There’s a wholeass cobbler right there. I just took a single piece.” Bakugou rubs at his eye with a sigh.
“It’s not the same, okay? Whatever. I’ll just… not post it, I guess. As much as it fucking pains me.” Kaminari seems to contemplate this for a moment, worrying the tip of his fork against his lips. He looks back up at Bakugou, almost nervously, and smiles.
“I guess I’ll just have to come back and taste test so you can make it again,” he grins. “Then you can get photos of it that time!”
Bakugou is tempted to smile back at him but manages to force it down. Mostly. So sue him if his face is a bit softer around the edges.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, a rosy tint making its way onto his face, “I guess so. I--You’d have to fuckin’... gimme your number, then, huh?” Kaminari laughs and Bakugou can’t hold in his smile any longer. He looks up and makes eye contact with Kaminari, and Bakugou wants to doubt his eyesight but there’s no way that’s not a blush creeping up his cheeks (and on his ears oh my god, Bakugou wants to fucking die that’s so cute).
Kaminari nods slowly. “Yeah, I can do that.”
And that’s when Bakugou realized that he didn’t even need to ask Kaminari to consider coming over by himself. Kaminari just told him that he would come over again.
Bakugou’s mind is still reeling even after Kaminari has left. Kirishima pouts at him and steals a hefty slice of peach cobbler and all he can do is think about the way Kaminari smiled with rosy cheeks.
What was it about Kaminari that had him acting like this? He’s liked people before, sure, but not as sappily. He’s never been so mushy before. He just can’t get over how dorky Kaminari’s grin is and how cute it is to watch him fawn over his cooking. His hair is so fucking stupid-looking but Bakugou bets it’s soft as hell.
You know what else is probably soft as hell?
Kaminari’s skin.
It looks like he’s never gone a day without moisturizing. It’s probably softer than the softest baby ass in existence.
He’s still thinking about it well into the night before he decides to stop being a creep and go to bed. Never before has he been so impatient to send a text.
He sends said text a bit less than a week later, after overly careful deliberation over whether or not it would be weird to wait any longer. Or had he already waited too long? How long does one typically wait to send a message after getting someone’s number?
God, socialization is stupid.
He tells Kaminari that he’s planning to make an apple tart tomorrow and “you can come over or whatever if you want.” You know, like a tsundere?
It only takes a couple of minutes for Kaminari to respond. Bakugou tries not to launch himself at his phone when he hears the notification sound.
“mmmmh i have work from 10 to 4 would u wait for meeeee <3” is not normally a message that would cause people’s hearts to flip over on themselves, but wow that sure is what it makes Bakugou’s do. He has to refrain from responding with “YES I WOULD ABSOLUTELY OF COURSE.” Instead, he opts for a slightly more casual, “whatever.”
He only gets a smiley face in response but it sends him over the moon.
And, of course, Kirishima chooses that moment to walk into the living room where Bakugou is sat ignoring the television with a dopey, lovey smile on his face.
“Were you just smiling ?” he asks astonishedly. Bakugou immediately scowls at him.
“Fuck no, that’s stupid. Why the fuck would I be smiling? Idiot. Think before you speak.” Yeah, that’s good. That’s casual. Play it cool, don’t be defensive. You’re doing great, sweetie.
Kirishima just laughs and smacks a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, much to his dismay. He smacks it off as quick as it lands.
“I take it things with Kami are going well so far? He just texted me that you invited him over tomorrow.”
“I didn’t invite him, I just told him I was making an apple tart and that he could come if he wanted.”
“That’s called an invitation, bro,” he smiles. “Oh so conveniently, I’m going to be sleeping over at Mina’s tomorrow night. I hope you know you’re going to have to tell me all the details, right? If not, I’ll just get them out of Kami anyways, but it’ll be less fun that way.”
Bakugou sighs deeply. “Fuckin’ whatever.” Kirishima grins in accomplishment, making Bakugou regret ever being his roommate. Sure, they split rent, but at what cost?
It’s in this moment that Bakugou realizes he planned making an apple tart, but has yet to buy literally any of the ingredients. With a groan, he stands, grabbing his wallet off the table as he goes.
“‘m going to the store. Forgot to get the goddamn apples and shit. If you need anything, speak now or forever shut your trap,” he says, pulling on a pair of slides. Kirishima shakes his head with a smile.
“No, I’m good, thanks.” Bakugou nods and heads out the door.
It’s tomorrow night and Kaminari is vaguely petrified. He’s standing right outside the front door of Kirishima and Bakugou’s shared apartment, fist hovering awkwardly in the air.
Should he knock?
He doesn’t normally knock, but he’s also not normally here for Bakugou.
He stands there for a solid five minutes in silence, contemplating whether or not to knock, before resigning and doing it anyways. Not a moment later, a disgruntled Bakugou opens the door.
“The fuck did you knock for? Just come in, Pikachu.”
Kaminari hasn’t even said a word and he’s already managed to fuck up. Great. Needless to say, he does not have high hopes for this date.
...Oh shit, is this a date?
“Dude, is this a date?”
Bakugou whips around, eyes wide. He looks simultaneously pissed and embarrassed at the statement (which Kaminari never thought would be a cute combination but, with it in front of him now, he can see that he had thought wrong). Bakugou’s cheeks even go a bit pink at the statement and Kaminari is slightly worried that he’s managed to ruin everything for a second time.
Wow, in five seconds no less. That’s a new record.
“Wh--” Bakugou starts, looking very purposefully away from Kaminari’s direction, “what makes you think that, asshole?!” Kaminari cringes.
“Ah, I dunno man. I just--I guess I thought… nothing. I didn’t think anything, man. Ignore me,” he says, chuckling nervously.
“Shit, wait, that’s not what I fuckin’ meant. ” Kaminari rubs a hand against the back of his neck and sighs.
“No, seriously! Just, like, drop it,” he laughs. “Anyways, apple tart? Do you need any help? I can peel apples or something, I dunno.” Bakugou scowls at the ground in front of him and then pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Do you… want this to be a date?” he mumbles, his face growing red. “I mean, because i-it could be. A date. We could be dating. I mean-! Fuck.”
At this point he’s no longer even facing Kaminari’s direction, choosing instead to pace back and forth with his head in his hands. Kaminari is still stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do about the bumbling idiot in front of him.
“I didn’t mean that last part! Or, I mean--just, fuck, okay. Shit. Fuck. ”
“You really like to curse, huh?” Kaminari chuckles. Finally, Bakugou lifts his head and glowers at him.
“I’m glad me making a fucking idiot out of myself is amusing to you, dunce face.”
Kaminari smiles, taking a couple steps closer to Bakugou. He gives him a light punch awkwardly on his bicep.
“I’m cool with dating, bro. You know, if you’re serious about that. If you weren’t serious, then, like, don’t worry, ‘cause I’ll just go throw myself out of the nearest window. No biggie.”
“Don’t fucking punch me on the arm while asking me out. And especially don’t call me bro. ” Kaminari cringes a bit. “But… yeah, alright, fuck it.”
“Can I be the ‘it?’” Kaminari asks with a laugh, causing Bakugou to grimace.
“Sorry, I don’t put out on the first date.” Kaminari makes a tch noise and shrugs.
“I guess that means I’ve gotta take you out for more dates in the future then, huh?” he grins.
Bakugou sighs and turns back to the counter, where an array of ingredients lay, as well as the almost-finished pastry dough. “ Great, ” he says sarcastically, almost groaning. The slight smile in the corner of his lip, however, contradicts his tone.
The rest of the night goes just as well -- they finish the tart whilst watching shitty movies (via Kaminari’s recommendation). They talk. They kiss. Y’know, whatever.
When Kirishima comes home the next morning, Kaminari is gone. Bakugou’s in the living room, gathering his things to head off to work. Kirishima grins and runs up to him.
“So… how did last night go? Kaminari tells me it went well but I wanna hear it from the big man himself,” he grinned, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. Bakugou shrugged.
“Went alright, I guess. You’ve had worse ideas.”
“ That’s my man! ” he exclaims, punching Bakugou on the shoulder. “So when’s the next date?” Bakugou shoves Kirishima away with a tch .
“Fuck off, none of your business.”
Kirishima nudges him in the side and wiggles his eyebrows once more. Bakugou looks away with a sigh.
“It’s next Thursday, okay? Now fuck off, I have to get to work.”
Kirishima doesn’t think he can grin any wider.