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Bakugou walks past the same coffee shop every single morning.
Allways sparing a glance, but never entering.
Until he does.
It's a casualty, really, driven by a sudden, unbearable need for caffeine on a monday morning.
It's still early, the sun barely peering out from the higher buildings, tinting the streets with pale blue light.
The coffee shop is a small one, cozy, warm and sweet smelling, with a couple of tables littering the sides of it, plants hanging from the ceiling.
The rumbling sound of the coffee machine, together with the quiet chattering of the early risers like him, added a lot to the calming and cozy ambiance.
He yawns, still half asleep and not really paying attention to his surroundings as he groggily places his order.
He notices it, then: a blackboard, right behind the counter, with something written on it with white chalk.
Bakugou blinks, sleepiness completely forgotten.
It's a riddle.
//I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?//, it reads.
He sips on the coffee that somehow appeared in his hand, face scrunching up in concentration.
A sound, maybe? A voice?
It has no body. Come alive with wind. Something reverberating, then, carried by it.
He thinks back to his last hike, at the beautiful scenery and the great valley he came across, nestled between two mountain sides. He smirks.
"It's the echo."
A low whistle startles his attention back to reality.
"Dude, you solved that in a second, that's so cool!" a tall, redheaded guy is smiling at him, showing a fine line of sharpened teeth.
Bakugou scoffs, ears warming at getting caught off guard.
"Please, it wasn't that hard."
The redhead raises his small eyebrows at him, disbelief written all over his face.
"What? No, it is! That thing has been up there for a month and no one has solved it except for you."
"It's just logical thinking, simple as that. Everyone else's just an idiot."
"Man, aren't you cocky." the redhead chuckles, Bakugou bristles.
"I'm fucking not! I could solve any riddle your stupid poor dyed head would throw at me!"
The barista smirks then, leaning towards him. He's close. Too close. And he has big, deep red eyes.
"Alright, bet."
***
Bet they did.
Ever since that day, Bakugou's been coming back every single day, always getting the same order and for the same reason.
Every time he resolves a riddle, Kirishima, that's the name of the infuriatingly smug barista, has one on the ready from the very next day.
//What has four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon and three in the evening?//
"A human, idiot, that's easy."
"Give me some credit man, that's just the start!"
//What gets bigger the more you take away?//
"Mhm."
"Can't think about anything, can you Bakugou?"
"... a hole."
"Oh, come on!"
//What has four fingers and a thumb, but isn’t alive?//
"I'd say that's you before you're completely caffeinated."
"So fucking funny. It's a glove, by the way."
"See? Dead on your feet and cranky, too. And, correct!"
"Shut up and give me my damn coffee, shitty hair."
"Not shitty!"
A week, then two passes.
The riddles get harder to solve, but talking with Kirishima gets easier day by day.
He's the most sociable and likable person Bakugou has ever met, with his happy-go-lucky demeanor and easygoing smiles.
Impossible to hate. And to not like.
Somehow, he carved his way into Bakugou's good side, one smile, stupid riddle and good coffee at a time.
And Bakugou, stinging exterior yet soft hearted Bakugou, starts noticing things.
Can't help it, really.
He notices that Kirishima adds a bit more caramel in his usual order than he's supposed to whenever Bakugou is in a bad mood.
"To sweeten your crappy day!" he says, giving him a small maroon bag with a sweet pumpkin muffin inside; the same one he saves for him every morning.
He notices how he always asks him "how are you" before anything else, how he always makes time to spend a few words with him, even on busier days.
"Kiri, stop dilly dallying and come help us!" his colleagues, the one with bright blonde hair and the one with the stupidly plain face, would reprimand him with badly concealed smiles.
"In a minute! Gosh, can't a guy even have a word with a friend now? You two do that all the time!"
Bakugou would roll his eyes then, not even trying to deny the "friends" part. Last time he did, Kirishima gave him the silent treatment for a whole three minutes, pouting like a child.
So, guess they're friends now.
"Fucking do your job, idiot. I can come again later."
"Really? Cool, see you then!" the redhead would say and he'd sound so happy about it, smiling broadly and brightly.
He takes sudden notice of how cute that smile of his is.
He notices how kind he is, always keeping an eye out for trouble, going as far as throwing a guy out for harassing a girl sitting alone at one of the small tables. Literally.
When it happened, Bakugou couldn't do anything but stare.
Stared as he watched the scene unfold like a hawk, gently telling him to “wait just a second, man” before marching towards the well dressed asshole. He stared as that usually smooth and kind expression of his contorted in one of hardened anger, as he grabbed him by the scruff of his tailored shirt, blinking at how he effortlessly raised him from the ground and manhandled him outside, back muscles bulging from the effort.
Bakugou’s throat tightened, neck feeling strangely warm.
He did say that he likes to work out. Bakugou could see that pretty easily. He does have nice muscles.
Then, one day, everything changed. For him, at least.
It happened on a Wednesday. It was sunny outside, a beautiful, warm day, and, surprisingly, there were not many people around the street.
It was only them at the coffee shop, sitting on the counter like two rebellious teenagers, with low, lo-fi music as the only background noise.
Kirishima was talking, probably retelling something his dumb friends and colleagues did during the morning shift, as Bakugou half listened, sipping on his caramel cappuccino.
The sun was setting, covering the small shop in an orangey light like a soft blanket.
It was so calm, and relaxing.
"Oh, dude. You have something there."
"Hah? Where?"
"There… No, not there, on the other- wait, I'll do it."
Until it wasn't.
Soft fingers grabbed his chin, gently moving his head up; a beautiful, friendly face was suddenly in front of his bewildered one, so close that he could perfectly make out the small scar Kirishima has on his right eyelid. He never noticed that one before.
He felt something swipe at his upper lip, Kirishima's finger, as he cleaned what was probably some of the cappucino's foam from his half opened mouth.
His mind was static, his heart thundering and making his whole body shiver, skipping a beat every two.
His face was hot, his neck, ears, even his fucking chest felt like it was burning up.
Then Kirishima leaned back, smiling with that sweet smile of his.
For a moment, there, he thought that-
"There you go! All clean now. You're not usually this messy! Do you like the way I made it today?"
Bakugou gulped, grip tightening on his half empty cup.
He thought Kirishima was gonna kiss him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It hit him, then.
//Who has blonde hair, a cocky personality and the biggest crush on a shitty haired bastard?//
"Bakugou? You good man?"
Fuck indeed.
***
Things didn't really change after his moment of realization, strangely enough.
Sure, his heart lives out of his chest by now, and he blushes constantly and tenses whenever Kirishima gets too close yet pouts when he gets too far.
He is a mess, his mind and chest are a mess.
But the rest, luckily, is not. They still do their little game of solving riddles, fighting about the answers and spending time with each other, but they do talk more now. Not about riddle related things.
Bakugou learns a lot the weeks following his crush (God, how he hates that stupid word) epiphany.
For example, he learns that Kirishima is studying to become a physical therapist and he lives in a small apartment by himself.
“That’s why I’m working here. It’s not exactly my dream job but rent is not gonna pay itself!”
Bakugou nods, head held on one of his hands.
“Why a physical therapist?” he asks.
"My dad got in a bad accident years ago.” he starts, smiling reassuringly at Bakugou’s wide eyed look “He’s fine now, luckily. He needs a wheelchair sometimes and can’t run, but he’s fine.”
“I was there during the whole healing process. It’s not pretty." He winces at the memory as he cleans the counter "But the man he did physical therapy with… dude, he was so manly, so patient. He let my dad take all of his frustrations out on him. He never once wavered, helping him out till the end of the treatment. We owe him so much. I wanted to be like that too."
"That's cool as fuck." Bakugou says and Kirishima blushes.
"Not really, it's just-"
"No, shut up, it is. That’s not an easy field, both academically and emotionally, and you wanna put yourself out there on your own volition.”
Kirishima blinks at him, rubbing his neck.
“I mean… there are a lot of people in my class, so it’s not like I’m the only one.”
“Of course, but still, you’re one of them. Do not sell yourself short, you considerate motherfucker. People like you are manly as all hell."
Kirishima stares at him then, mouth agape, cheeks warming up by the second. Bakugou’s does too because, hell, he didn’t mean to sound so conceited.
"Thanks, man." he whispers dumbly and Bakugou clears his throat, nodding curtly.
Something shifts, then. For better or for worse, Bakugou can’t tell, really.
Kirishima starts acting weird.
Constantly losing focus, tripping on himself, slamming against the bathroom’s door.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou muttered as he passed him a bag of ice.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Kirishima replied in a rush, a bump already forming on his head.
Bakugou was not convinced, still isn’t.
Then, the strangest thing of all happened.
The pattern of the riddles, which used to be replaced every time he got one right, changed; there started to be a new riddle every day, despite him not giving the right answer to the ones before.
It started like this.
//What did the paper clip say to the magnet?//(1)
"What does that even mean?"
"You don't get it?" Kirishima looks at him with a strange expression, eyes wide, biting his lip (that's distracting, fuck, what were they talking about again?).
"Not really…"
"Huh."
Then, the next day.
//It is mine, but you can only keep it. What is it?//(2)
"A pen?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Weren't you supposed to be the smartest one between us?"
"Dick."
And the day after that.
//What can you catch but not throw?//(3)
"A disease."
"Really, man?"
"What?"
It goes on and on, for almost two weeks.
Then, one day, he sees one of Kirishima's colleagues, the one with the pink puff of hair and the weird yellow clips, standing outside the door.
The moment she notices him, she runs inside without sparing him another glance.
Which, weird, she's usually so ready to annoy him on a daily basis.
When he gets inside, the first thing he sees is the empty spot at the register; the second one is the bright red chalk on the blackboard.
It says.
//Who has red hair, two thumbs, and would like to ask you out on a date?//
Bakugou's breath hitch, his heart almost beating out of his ribcage.
Right under the blackboard stands Kirishima, two cups of coffee in hand, dressed with clean jeans and a hoodie. He has his hair down for once, framing his flushed face.
They look at each other for a long moment, as Bakugou tries to get hold of his scrambling thoughts.
"You…" Bakugou starts, voice slightly trembling, "You're the dumbest person I've ever met. What the fuck."
Kirishima smiles at him, recognizing his screeching for the embarrassment that it is.
"So? Gonna answer that?"
Bakugou can't help it then.
He scoffs, marches towards his dumb, sweet, coffee flavored crush and kisses him.
He ignores the squeals he hears in the background and concentrates on the warm feeling of Kirishima's lips on his, on the other's crossed eyed look when he stands back.
He laughs.
"Shitty hair."
"Huh?" said shitty hair whispered out dumbly.
"That's the answer. It's shitty hair."
Kirishima chuckles then, bopping Bakugou's nose with his own.
"That's not my name."
"Ask me properly, then, and I'll change it. Maybe."
"Man, you're impossible." the redhead chuckles, fondness written all over his face. He puts the two cups on the counter, only to rest his hands on Bakugou's warm, rosey cheeks.
"Wanna go on a date? With me? Eijirou Kirishima, me?"
A ferally happy grin takes over Bakugou's face then, ugly and so, so big.
"Fuck yeah I want that."
"Perfect. That's perfect." he murmurs, gently bringing their lips together in another slow, sweet kiss.
Bakugou melts on the spot, already addicted to the sensation, to the flavor, the shiver that runs from the tip of his hair to his toes.
He sighs in it, feeling warm and content.
Then, as if shocked by sudden lighting, Bakugou's eyes widen and he pulls back, hands shooting up to wrap around the other's hard biceps.
"Wait, were- were you fucking hitting on me through stupid riddles?!"
As Kirishima laughs, embarrassment coloring his cheeks, Bakugou screams.
And, now, to offer a final riddle.
//Who has two beating hearts, only one brain cell, and is gonna live their perfect happily ever after?//