Work Text:
Kiruka loved her job.
Of course, a lot of people said that. A fair number of them probably meant it, too. But Kiruka doubted that most of them meant it with the sheer, unequivocal conviction that she did—she loved her job. She loved it down to the very fibers of her being; she couldn’t imagine waking up a single day wanting to do something else. Because, quite simply, Kiruka Hasaki was born to be a beautician.
Kiruka had always possessed a keen interest in cosmetology, beginning from the moment she sat in her mother’s lap at the pediatrician’s office while she idly read a fashion magazine. While her mother had been preoccupied with the stylish clothes, Kiruka had zeroed in on the elegant up-dos, the bold cuts, the striking splashes of make-up on the models’ faces. As soon as they got home, Kiruka was rummaging through her mother’s beauty products, eager to recreate the works of art she’d seen in those hundred-some-odd pages. And once Kiruka had started, she’d never stopped, blazing her way through stylist competitions and cosmetology school and lucrative jobs. Until, finally, she had reached the pinnacle of a beautician’s career—being the personal stylist for a celebrity.
Kiruka loved her job. But ohhhhh, did she hate her client!
Touya Todoroki—stage name Dabi—was the most insufferable, incorrigible, intolerable man Kiruka had ever met! He was the rising star in the heady world of rock and roll, and ugh, did he know it. Kiruka could smell the pompousness on him the moment she’d walked into his personal dressing room for the first time; he was reclined lazily in the chair with his legs spread and his arm slung over the back, wearing a smirk like it was all he needed. Quite literally, the man was naked in her salon chair, nothing but a towel around his waist—and hanging too low, at that. Kiruka had screeched and pitched a fit at his utter gall, and he’d just silently watched her through it all, cyan eyes gleaming like will-o’-the-wisps all the while.
When she was finished, flushed and chest heaving, he’d cleared his throat and pointed at her chest.
“Your bra’s poppin’ out of your shirt, love. Might wanna calm your tits.”
If it hadn’t been for the substantial pay raise Touya’s manager had offered her (while on her hands and knees begging Kiruka to stay), Kiruka would have left then and there. But more than that, she had her pride as a stylist; no matter how brutish the client, they deserved to look good. Of course, once Kiruka had gotten a closer look at Touya, she’d realized that he didn’t really need it. Par for the course, the sneering asshole was devilishly handsome.
That didn’t stop Kiruka from tugging a little too hard on his hair when she combed it for the first time, of course. Revenge was all the sweeter when swift. She’d relished the hiss that pushed past his clenched teeth and the angry roll of his eyes into the back of his skull to glare at her.
“Aw, did I hurt you?” she had cooed and patted his cheek. “Sorry, love. I’ll be more gentle.”
And in one year, their relationship hadn’t grown much past that. Touya was still impossible, and Kiruka still dished out as much as she got. They bickered so often that everyone in Touya’s crew—including his bandmates—frequently asked her why she stayed. And every time, Kiruka would flip her red hair over her shoulder and scoff that the pay was good enough to put up with his sorry ass. In reality, though… It had never been about the pay. Kiruka loved what she did, and being a personal stylist to a rockstar meant that she was constantly steeped in fashion and make-up; she’d learned more in the last year than her entirety of beauty school.
But more than that… Despite his juvenile wickedness, Touya treated her far better than any client she’d ever had, even the few other celebrities she’d serviced. Kiruka wanted for nothing. If she so much as mentioned to one of the other stylists a new piece of equipment she’d been eyeing, lo and behold, it would appear amidst her supplies within a few hours. After every performance, even if he’d sweated off all his make-up and ruined his hair, he treated her to extravagant dinners. Kiruka didn’t travel on commercial flights like the other stylists; no, she flew in the band’s private jet to be waited on hand and foot. Nor did she stay anywhere but in a penthouse suite adjacent to the band’s. The other stylists joked that Touya treated her more like his lover than a stylist sometimes, and if Kiruka really thought about it, it wasn’t far from the truth.
Because the reason she still loathed Touya, despite all their time together and everything he did for her, was that he was an incessant flirt.
Her hope that his little stunt the first time they met had been the childish prank of a twenty-something dazzled by the limelight, but no. Touya was just like that, and exclusively with her. It would be one thing if he attempted to court all the women in his vicinity; instead, Touya singled her out, made her and her alone the victim of his silver tongue and smoldering gazes and barely-there touches. God, if she had a nickel for every shitty pick-up line that had rolled off his pierced tongue, she could quit this job and live in luxury until she died a shriveled old lady.
Yet, even if she did have all those nickels, Kiruka probably still couldn’t find it within herself to leave. Because if she was honest with herself, she didn’t loathe Touya at all. She loathed herself for breaking the one unbreakable rule she’d set for herself years ago when she’d first clutched her cosmetology school diploma in her hand:
Don’t fall in love with her clients.
Not only had she broken her singular statute, but she had also broken it with somebody who wouldn’t reciprocate. Kiruka wasn’t a fool. Touya’s games were just that—games. He flirted simply to get a rise out of her—the one person who would entertain his childish flirtations—and that was that. Though he toed the line of professionalism, he still adhered; he had no intentions of actually getting involved with Kiruka. Kiruka catching feelings, as with any client, would undoubtedly end in heartbreak.
That’s why she’d given herself that rule in the first place. But she’d gone and done it anyway. She’d loved all those fleeting caresses and honeyed words from the very beginning and refused to nip them in the bud. Now, for the first time in her life, Kiruka hated going to work every day. That was a fast track to hating what one did for a living—and Kiruka couldn’t have that. She had to figure out something to break this year-long standoff of theirs… but what?
This is ridiculous, Kiruka thought with a terse pout, then angrily crossed her arms. She’d been standing at the door to Touya’s trailer for three minutes already, trying to psych herself up enough to go inside. What are you afraid of? It’s not like Touya’s gonna act any differently than he has been for the last year.
But that was precisely the problem. Last night, as Kiruka lay awake in bed ruminating on her and Touya’s tumultuous relationship, she’d come to the startling realization that she was crushing on him, hard. Now, it was like Kiruka’s entire world had flipped upside-down. The notion of walking into the trailer to immediately be met with Touya’s silver-tongued philandering had her simultaneously titillated and terrified. To Kiruka’s dismay, a part of her had come to enjoy the rock star’s seductive charms. She tried not to beat herself up too much about it; what girl wouldn’t come to enjoy constantly being doted upon, in more ways than one? Oh, but that was just it—Kiruka already stood upon the edge of the precipice; just one misstep, and she’d find herself plunging into the waiting pit of humiliation and despair.
In the best-case scenario, she cracked under the pressure and quit the most rewarding job she’d ever had. In the slightly worse scenario, she caved to Touya’s advances and ended up a heartbroken mess. In the absolute worst-case scenario, she snapped, pitched a hellacious fit, and found herself a pariah among her peers and likely unable to find decent work ever again. Honestly, she should really only be scared of the latter outcome. Thanks to her lovesick, screwy little brain, however, Kiruka found them all equally terrifying… because in all three, she parted ways with Touya.
Kiruka planked against the trailer door with a groan. How pathetic was she, brooding over a man like this? Oh, the humanity.
Come on, Kiruka. Get it together, she sighed to herself, still leaning against the door. Let’s put on your big girl pants and—
Click.
Before Kiruka could even register the turning of the knob, the door was swinging open. Without it to support her, Kiruka’s body plunged forward, falling like a massive oak in a forest. She found herself thinking of that old proverb—if a tree falls in a forest with no one around, does it make a sound at all? Well, Kiruka was not a tree, this was not a forest, and there was somebody around; so, her body collided with the carpeted floor of the trailer with a resounding thwomp.
Touya’s only response to Kiruka splaying out on her belly in the entryway was a curious quirk of his eyebrow.
“That’s a hell of a way to make an entrance.”
Kiruka pushed her upper body up with her elbows and blew a thick swathe of her red hair out of her eyes so she could glare up at him.
“Bite me.”
“Oooh, getting straight to the fun stuff, are we?” Touya teased, and Kiruka rolled her eyes. She should have known better than to say something like that, knowing Touya’s quick wit and love of innuendos. Yet, there was that shameless part of her that—
Nope. Don’t you dare finish that thought, Kiruka hastily scolded her runaway train of thought. She sighed again, her head drooping and sending her long hair falling back across her face. At least it shielded the blush starting to make a home in the apples of her cheeks. Damn realizations and late-night epiphanies; she should have just stayed blissfully ignorant—
“Oi. Are you gonna lay there all day?”
Kiruka’s head reared up, a scathing retort already burning on her tongue—but the sizzling reply fizzled out when she realized that Touya was holding his hand out for her. Her blush intensified to a bright, hot blaze of pink-red across her entire face, and she pressed her lips together into a thin line. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed! Common decency dictated that one help up someone who’s fallen down! And she didn’t even need help; she was perfectly capable of getting up on her own.
Yet she couldn’t help but play along, slip her hand into Touya’s and marvel at how naturally it felt for his ring-clad fingers to wrap around her own—how easily he whisked her to her feet. It was easy to forget that his slender build and baggy clothes disguised the wiry, athletic frame that came with the physical demands of bouncing and strutting all over a stage—plus, he worked out. She’d walked in on him using his home weight set on multiple occasions; he always claimed that he lost track of time or forgot about the appointment altogether, but it was mighty funny that he always seemed more triumphant than nonchalant in those situations. And shirtless. Always shirtless.
Oh, great. Now Kiruka was thinking about it—bare-chested Touya pumping those stupid dumbbells and looking at her like he’d won the lottery. Back to reality, please.
“Thank you,” she said curtly and swiftly removed her hand from his so she could smooth out the creases in her dress—or at least, pretend to so she had an excuse for him to stop holding it. She swept her hair out of her face again, and with a deep breath in and out, she tried to finally force herself into professional mode. It worked, for the most part. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
“It’s only fair. I called you on short notice,” Touya shrugged, then swung the door shut.
Kiruka pursed her lips. Right, she’d been so out of her mind that she’d forgotten—Touya had called her up all of a sudden this morning—on her day off—claiming to have procured some last-minute local gig and that she needed to come right away. Frazzled as Kiruka was, she found this mighty curious, given that Touya tended to find scrambling to prepare for spontaneous performances more trouble than they were worth. She found it especially curious upon arriving at their “base camp” to find most of the staff idling about. It certainly didn’t seem like anyone was preparing for an impromptu gig, and that made this meeting all the more suspect.
When Touya plopped down on his sofa instead of in the salon chair and regarded Kiruka with a serious look, she determined that there was, in fact, no performance at all. She’d been had. And there was only one reason that Touya would feel the need to trick her into coming here: he knew.
“Touya…” she said reluctantly, taking a slight back-step toward the door. She wasn’t afraid of him, of course; rough and tough as he seemed, Touya would never harm a hair on her head. But she was very much afraid of what he might say—because Touya was nothing if not unpredictable. She had no idea what was going through his mind right now, let alone what was about to come out of his mouth.
Really, she ought to just spare herself all the anguish by resigning right then and there and hauling ass out of there. But she didn’t leave. She couldn’t bring herself to, not when he looked so sad. Instead, she took his silent invitation to sit beside him, then steeled herself for what was to come… whatever it was.
“Kiruka…” he sighed. He apparently couldn’t bring himself to look at her; instead, he stared uncomfortably at the opposite wall. When his words seemed to fail him, he huffed aggravatedly and pushed his hand through his spiky mess of hair. “Shit. This should not be this fuckin’ hard.”
Touya flopped back against the couch with a frustrated growl and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes. Kiruka just watched him with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity; Touya had never failed to be as cool as a cucumber even in relatively dire situations, so seeing him so distraught unnerved her even more. Perhaps—though she really didn’t want to—she should lead the conversation.
“Touya, it’s okay. I’ll do the talking,” she started. Touya lowered his hands from his face to grimace at her, though still only looking at her from his peripheral vision. Kiruka chewed on her lip, trying to find the best way to ease into the issue. It wasn’t really working, so she opted for the tried-and-true method: ripping off the proverbial bandage.
“I… I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”
“Hah,” Touya sighed, running his hands over his face again. “I figured as much.” The level of regret in his tone made Kiruka’s heart twist in her chest. Despite how rocky their relationship seemed, Kiruka knew that Touya cared about her. He was probably blaming himself for this, the poor thing.
“Touya, this isn’t your fault,” Kiruka tried. He finally looked at her, and his expression was one of wry self-loathing.
“But isn’t it?” he objected ruefully. “If I hadn’t acted like a kindergartener teasing his crush on the playground, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”
Kiruka opened her mouth to argue, but the reply stopped short in her throat when her brain processed what he’d actually said.
Wait. What?
“God! I’m so stupid!” Touya growled, too busy slapping his hand over his eyes as he flopped his head back to notice that Kiruka’s was effectively short-circuiting. “I didn’t mean for it to end up this fucked! It was just playing around, at first—and you played along, so I just, you know, kept it up. But somewhere along the way, I—I began to look at you differently, you know?” With another exasperated growl, he flopped forward to press his head against his knees.
“Touya,” Kiruka tried to say, but it was lost amidst his rambling.
“And then next thing I knew, my dumb ass had caught feelings. Fuck, I was so busy being infatuated that I had no idea I was making you uncomfortable. I must have been, right? ‘Cuz why else would you be so dodgy around me like you’ve been lately?”
“Touya,” Kiruka tried again, biting down hard on her lip to try and suppress the stupid grin trying to worm its way onto her face.
“Gah!” Touya snarled, tugging at his hair angrily. “Kiruka, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m such an ass. You have every right to leave, and—”
It was obvious that Touya wasn’t going to be shutting up anytime soon, so Kiruka resorted to shutting him up herself. She took his face and swiftly pulled it to hers, pressing their open mouths together in a fiery kiss before Touya could even realize what was happening. It sure got the job done, and damn, did it feel good. When Kiruka pulled back to smirk at him, Touya just blinked dumbly at her, Kiruka’s hot pink lipstick smeared messily across his top lip.
“... Wait… You don’t hate me? Even though I make you want to tear your hair out every day?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Your antics have been a constant source of frustration for me and are probably the reason I found a gray hair the other day,” Kiruka said sternly, but her firm expression melted into a sweet smile. “... But, somehow, it makes me like you instead. Even if it’s not good for my blood pressure.”
“Why do you make crushing on me sound like such an insult?” Touya smirked while looping his arms loosely around her middle. However, he waited for her to give a silent nod of affirmation before he scooched closer to her. “I’m a real catch, you know. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?”
“Ah, there’s your ego. I was wondering where it went.”
“Hey, knowing such a sexy lady has her eyes on me is doing wonders for it,” he teased, cocking his head to the side as he regarded Kiruka with a passionate gaze. When Kiruka blushed instead of retorting, his grin widened. “Oh? No smart comeback? I make you mine, and that’s all it takes to tame that sharp tongue of yours? Shoulda spared myself the grief and done so sooner.”
“Wow. It’s almost hard to believe you were a groveling mess less than a minute ago,” Kiruka frowned, though her bright red face didn’t make her attempt at aloofness very convincing. “And if anything, I made you mine. I’m the one who did the kissing.”
“Good point. Allow me to amend that, then,” Touya purred, bringing his face close enough to gently nudge their noses together. But he went no further, instead patiently waiting for Kiruka to obviously consent. How could she not, with his cyan eyes burning with desire right in front of hers? She tipped her head slightly and brushed her lips over his, and that’s all it took for Touya to sweep her up in a hungry, passionate kiss.
Yes, without a doubt, Kiruka loved her job. Cosmetology was her calling in life, there was no doubt about that—but that wasn’t the only reason. No, Kiruka had the rare joy of spending every day with her devoted boyfriend. Don’t get her wrong—as two spitfires with quick wit and barbed tongues, they still clashed in ways that would make strangers wonder how the hell they could call themselves a couple. But people who knew Kiruka and Touya could see the smiles barely disguised as frowns, the joy in their eyes as they traded sarcastic barbs and witty remarks, and the tender words and sweet caresses between the banter.
Kiruka loved her job more than ever now—because, undeniably, she loved Touya with all her heart. It was a good thing that she was a rebel at heart. Some rules were just inevitably meant to be broken!