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Hold Me

Summary:

Bakugou comes home from a day of supplementary classes tired, angry, and disheartened. Luckily the two people he loves the most are right there waiting for him.

Notes:

Just a short fluff piece I wrote forever ago. Someone give that fuckin’ haggard gremlin shithead a hug plz

All characters are ages 16ish. Implied that they are first years during the supplementary classes arc of the show.

Work Text:

     “Aw, that was a dick move.”

     You giggle as your level 87 Blastoise demolishes Kirishima’s Magmar, dropping him to only a few points of health. The both of you are in your room, lying on your sides with your back tucked snugly into Kirishima’s chest. His arms are around you holding his Switch while you hold your own, and his chin is resting on your scalp to see his screen. 

     Music plays from your phone on a pillow beside your heads while afternoon’s light casts stripes of golden glow into the bedroom through the blinds. It’s quiet save for the sound effects of the game and your occasional jabs at one another as you battle. 

     You glance at your phone when it buzzes, reading a text before your attention returns to the battle. “Kat just got done with his remedial course, he’s on his way home.”

     “Ah, in that case we’d better finish this battle and save,” Kirishima answers, eyebrows crinkling adorably as yet another of his Pokémon nearly dies, “Even if he won’t outright ask for it I have a feeling he’ll want attention when he gets home, and he’ll get pissy if we just play the game.”

     You hum agreement, giving an overdramatic gasp when your Blastoise falls to Kirishima’s Venusaur. You continue through the rest of the battle and eventually you manages a slim win, with a level 23 Raichu at one health winning out against Kirishima’s Slowbro. Kirishima groans as you leave the battle and save. 

     Upon saving, he shuts off his Switch and tosses it beside your phone, tugging you closer to him by the waist and leaning over to pepper your cheek and neck with kisses while you giggle and shrug your shoulders. “Ei, quit! You know how much that tickles!”

     “But I just love the sound of your laugh,” he replies teasingly, wriggling his fingers against your sides while you squeal and fight to roll away from him. He chuckles and tugs you back into him, letting up on his assault in favor of burying his face in your shoulder and giving you a squeeze, “ My little rock.”

     “My big, stupid boulder,” you answer with a fond hum, placing your hands over his. 

     After about thirty minutes or so of quiet talking and the occasional wrestling match, the doorknob jiggles and the door swings open to reveal a freshly showered Bakugou in sweats and a plain shirt, hair damp and somehow even spikier than normal. His eyes give away his exhaustion as he steps in while Kirishima and you glance at him. 

     “Hey, babe!” Kirishima greets cheerfully, “How were your classes?”

     A solitary grunt answers him and simultaneously tells you everything you need to know about his mood. The two of you watch as he shuts the door and approaches the bed. You knew one another well, like the backs of your hands, but even then there were times where you couldn’t tell if he wanted attention or wanted to be left alone. 

     He stops by the bed and stares down at you, still tangled together from your most recent wrestling match. With a single push of both hands he separates you and flops onto his side in the space between you, facing you. You poke his nose with the tip of your finger. “What’s up, spikes?”

     He swallows and opens his mouth. His voice is nearly too quiet to hear and his eyes seem unable to meet yours. You furrow your brows. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

     “I said,” he huffs, before his voice drops again, sounding borderline shy, “Hold me.”

     The two of you comply without a moment’s hesitation. Kirishima wraps his arms around the blond’s waist and pulls until he is curled snugly into his chest, tucking his knees behind his and hooking his chin over his shoulder to kiss his cheek. You wriggle closer and toss one leg over both their hips, arms sliding around Bakugou’s shoulders and encouraging him to bury his face in your chest. He returns the embrace around your sides, cradling you like you’re gonna run away if he dares to let go. 

     Now encompassed on all sides by warmth and a pair of steady heartbeats, Bakugou’s body relaxes and a long sigh leaves his lips. He feels Kirishima kiss his shoulder just before you kiss his forehead. “Did something happen today, Kat?”

     He gives a small shake of his head. “Not anything I want to talk about. Jus’ wanna lay here with you two for a while.”

     You and Kirishima both nod and you run your fingers through his barely damp hair, gently coaxing out any tiny knots. Still with his chin resting atop the blond’s shoulder, Kirishima watches you work; observes the way you cradle his head with such tenderness and look at him with such pure love, and has to bite back an adoring grin that threatens to spread over his cheeks. He releases one hand and trails it up Bakugou’s side and around to gently scratch his back, and a shiver of pleasure runs up his spine as a hum of contentment leaves his lips. 

     “Have you eaten yet?” You whisper into his ear, tracing the shell of it with two fingers. Bakugou shakes his head a little, but the way he tightens his grip around your waist tells you he has no plans of moving anytime soon. 

     The sensation of so many hands touching him with such gentle caresses and soft strokes is enough to bring a man to tears. He is, after all, chronically touch-starved, and it doesn’t help that Kirishima and your love languages are both physical touch. It’s almost too much sometimes, when you hold him and kiss him and pet his hair and massage his shoulders, for he fears that he won’t repay the affection the right way. But, he knows he’d never push you away, and he knows that he is terribly addicted to both of your touches. It’s the only thing he ever wants and the only thing to ever really calm him down anymore. 

     He’s just so soft. Never in a million years did you think you’d be able to coax such gentleness from a man such as Bakugou Katsuki, but as soon as you crossed that speed bump of trust and gained his, he became a whole new person, one even more lovable than who he was before. 

     He slides his arms down just enough to slip his hands beneath your shirt and stroke up your back, and although you initially shiver at the cold contact, the tiniest activation of his Quirk warms his hands and you relax once again. 

     “I love you,” he croaks in a weak voice, and although he doesn’t specify, Kirishima and you know he’s addressing both of you. 

     Kirishima’s warm lips find the back of his neck while you kiss his forehead again. “We love you too.”