Chapter Text
Just about three days ago, news regarding Prince Bakugou Katsuki from the Kingdom of Xevalon’s disappearance had spread throughout most of the neighboring kingdoms like wildfire, and the shocking turn of events had become the talk of Ceoterra Kingdom since then.
Since the time Kirishima had first caught wind of the news while he was out shopping for groceries, he would occasionally hear bystanders talking as they’d wonder aloud what could have caused the prince to disappear just a month before his marriage to Princess Uraraka Ochako from the Kingdom of Oraedia.
Unconsciously, no matter how hard he tried keeping himself away from political matters, Kirishima would find himself drawn to those conversations, listening in on them with a curious ear each and every time.
For some reason, ever since the moment he caught a glimpse of the prince during one of his visits to Ceoterra Kingdom, Kirishima had unwittingly become intrigued with how the prince’s eyes had somehow shined brightly even when he looked bored out of his mind, and the fact that he looked absolutely handsome in his royal attire certainly doesn’t help matters as well because damn…
The prince somehow made royal attires look astoundingly attractive to him, and Kirishima didn’t think it was possible since he figured that he was more into the shirtless type.
But, of course, he was proven wrong, and he was now pathetically hung up for a man far beyond his reach with no signs of moving on from someone who was virtually unknown to him, a silly thing his heart had decided to put him through.
Even though he considered his feelings to be manly, it was foolish how his heart had lurched in his chest upon learning that the blond was to be engaged, something which only escalated the moment he felt the feeling of dread the instant he heard that the prince had disappeared, and sometimes he couldn’t help but hate it —
The way he let himself get so affected by someone who didn’t even know that he existed.
Right now, it was currently one of those instances wherein Kirishima hated his lovesick self as he would like nothing more than for his tired body to give out and fall asleep, yet his mind had the bright idea of conjuring up thoughts of a certain prince which had kept persistently circulating throughout his mind, keeping him awake even up to four in the morning.
Deciding that he had enough of tossing and turning in bed, Kirishima got up from his bed, throwing on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he padded his way downstairs to the bakery.
Upon exiting out of the shop, he was instantly met by the feeling of the strong breeze tickling his cheek, and he relished in it, knowing it was exactly what his sleepy brain would need to kickstart his day with energy.
Walking along the streets, Kirishima could already feel the tiredness of his body fading away with every step he would take through the vacant sidewalks, though his drowsiness remained even as he was allowing his crimson eyes to freely wander about to survey his surroundings.
In the midst of his surveying, however, Kirishima caught sight of a blur of what seemed to be a person lying face first on the ground, and his walking had come to an immediate halt as the redhead found himself rooted to his spot.
Cautiously, Kirishima approached the blur, his suspicions confirmed to be right the moment he found that the ‘blur’ was indeed a person.
In this case, the person appeared to be a man around his age with dark brown hair and tattered clothes.
“Hey, you okay there, man?” Kneeling down beside the unconscious man, Kirishima shook the man none too lightly by his shoulders to no avail as the man merely let out a groan, showing little signs of rousing.
Without considering the consequences, Kirishima scooped the man up into his arms, his heart inadvertently skipping a beat upon feeling the man nuzzling into his chest, though he paid it little mind as he broke into a sprint to head back towards the safety of his home, doing his best to keep the man comfortable in his arms.
Upon returning back home, the redhead wasted little time in placing the man down onto his bed, making sure that the sheets were placed securely enough to keep the other protected from the cold, before sitting himself down on the nearby chair beside the bed.
Unknowingly, Kirishima reached a hand out to gently caress the man’s cheek, noting how soft the stranger’s cheek was, and his heart raced in his chest for the second time that day at that.
Though, before he could continue in his shameless checking out of the man, his body had other ideas as he could feel sleep tugging at his eyes, desperately begging him for sleep.
Not one to deny his body of what it desperately wanted at the very moment, Kirishima pulled back, reclining his back to the chair, and luckily, he didn’t even have to wait an eternity for sleep to come this time around.
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The sensation of his back being slammed harshly on the ground urged Kirishima to stir from his little nap, and he peeled his eyes open to see piercing golden eyes glaring down at him none too kindly.
With his limbs pinned and immobilized, Kirishima was left at the mercy of the man he had brought to his home mere hours ago.
From how the other was acting, it was obvious that one single wrong word from Kirishima’s lips would undoubtedly place himself in deeper trouble, so he started threading carefully in search for the wisest possible thing to say in his current circumstance, only to fail miserably not even a second later when his mouth had stupidly chosen to blurt out “Um, hi.”
As expected, the redhead’s oh so ‘wise’ choice of words had only served to aggravate the man further who had subsequently tightened his grip on his wrists, keeping him pinned more powerfully on the wooden hard tile. “Don’t you dare pull the ‘Um, hi’ bullshit at me. You better fuckin’ fess up right now— Where the hell am I, and the fuck do you want from me? “
“Chill, man. I assure you that I don’t have any ill intentions at all.” Had his arms not been pinned, Kirishima would’ve placed them in a placating gesture. “A few hours ago, while I was having an early morning stroll, I found you passed out on the streets, and it’s not like I could just leave you there, so I took you here to my home.”
At his response, the glare in the other’s golden eyes eased a bit, fixing him an unreadable stare as if he was studying him to find any signs of deceit; all the while Kirishima was trying his best not to falter under the man’s fervent scrutiny even as his cheeks burned red upon noticing a certain observation about the man—
He shared the same hairstyle as Prince Bakugou Katsuki.
Enraptured in his lovestruck musings, Kirishima had only been jolted back into reality the moment when the man decided to move away from him, thankfully releasing him from the pinned position that he had been subjected to.
Then, the man averted his gaze to the ground, a slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks as he awkwardly mumbled under his breath “Tch, fine. You’re spared for now.”
“That’s good to know I guess.” Kirishima chuckled a bit at the man’s amusing way of ‘thanking’ someone, before the tone of his voice turned grave. “So, uh, why were you in that sort of situation to begin with?”
“None of your fuckin’ business.” At his question, the man had once again leveled him with a glare as he proceeded to announce “I’m leavin’.”
“You can’t just leave!” Kirishima cried out, his arm instinctively reaching out to hold the other back. “I have a feeling in my gut that if I let you leave— something bad would happen, and I can’t risk that.”
“Fuck off, Shitty Hair.” The man barked, and then he bristled, “Earlier was just a damn fluke ‘cuz I accidentally spent all the money I had and fuck- “
Midway, the man abruptly cut himself off as if the realization that he had inadvertently revealed too much information had just struck, and he was making an attempt to salvage the situation.
Yet, the damage was already done as Kirishima had repeated in horror “You spent all your money?”
His question went ignored as the man made a move to head towards the door, but Kirishima swiftly secured his hold on the man, effectively halting the man from leaving. “I can help!”
“I don’t need your damn charity!” The man hissed in anger, thrashing around in Kirishima’s hold.
“It wouldn’t be charity if it’d be a help to me as well.” Kirishima insisted, huffing under the weight of the struggling man he had been restraining.
At that, the man stilled, swiveling his head around to question him with confusion written all over his face. “Hah? The hell do you mean?”
“I own the bakery downstairs, and we’ve been trying to find more employees lately.” Kirishima elaborated, going on a ramble. “If you want, you could work there. I mean it doesn’t have to be a permanent thing; maybe at least until you earn enough money. You can even stay here upstairs. I have an extra room and- “
Much to Kirishima’s surprise, the man interrupted him to voice his unexpected compliance to the redhead’s offer. “Fine, but only for the money, and then I’d be out of your hair before you know it.”
“Gotcha.” Kirishima grinned, freeing the man from restraining grip he had put him in. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou, and would it be alright for me to know the name of my new employee?”
“Fujimura Kousuke.” The man— Fujimura, supplied curtly.
“Nice to meet you. Fujimura.” Kirishima smiled warmly at his new employee, extending a hand for the brunet to shake.
After a moment, Fujimura accepted the handshake almost uncertainly. “Nice to meet you too or whatever.”
At the newfound source of warmth pooling in his hand, Kirishima could have sworn that his heart had skipped a beat in his chest, something which lasted only a short while because Fujimura had already wrenched his hand away from the handshake.
“When is the start?” Out of nowhere, Fujimura spoke up, causing a startled Kirishima to almost jump from where his feet were planted on the floor.
“Huh?”
“The job.” Fujimura clarified with a sliver of annoyance. “When do I start?”
“Oh, it depends on when you’d want it to be,” Kirishima replied, making note of the time when he said, “But I can show you the ropes right after we shower and eat breakfast.”
“You better not be a shitty teacher, Shitty Hair.”
Kirishima assured firmly then, “I won’t, promise.”
“We’ll see about that.” Fujimura mused before sharply changing the subject. “Anyway, something tells me that I shouldn’t trust you in the damn kitchen, so I’m doing the cooking here.”
“Hey, wait!” Kirishima yelled in protest, chasing after the brunet who was now dashing off downstairs.
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“Die!” Fujimura screamed, violently kneading the dough with such force that the baker’s table had rattled ever so slightly, a far cry from how he acted while he was cooking earlier— calm and poise.
“Calm down, man.” Kirishima piped up from his spot beside the brunet. “You don’t have to be so rough with the dough.”
“Shut up. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Fujimura growled, not even bothering to turn around to cast him a glare, completely immersed in his task of kneading the dough.
“Hmm, well, if you say so.” Kirishima shrugged, and then he whistled as he observed “You sure learn quickly, dude. It looks like you already got the hang of kneading.”
“Tch, well, it ain’t too hard.” Fujimura grumbled under his breath, testing the dough with his fingers, before he had then announced “It’s good to go now.”
“Let me check just to be sure.” Kirishima took over, pressing an expert finger into the dough. “Well, it looks about alright. Good call, Fujimura.”
“ ‘The fuck is the next step we gotta do?” Fujimura asked, his expression neutral yet a glimmer of pride was evident all the while from how the other’s head had been tilted back ever so slightly.
“We’ll have to let the dough rest for a while.” Kirishima explained, handing Fujimura some plastic food wrap. “Here’s a plastic wrap that you could use to cover the dough with.”
Without further ado, Fujimura wasted no time in laying the dough into a bowl as he then proceeded to encase it with plastic wrap, all of which were accomplished with masterful movements far beyond someone who had just begun baking.
Grabbing the bowl, Kirishima had taken it upon himself to place it in the refrigerator, stepping back once the deed was done. “Now, all we have to do is rest the dough for about thirty minutes, and then we could move forward to the next step.”
Fujimura made a noncommittal grunt at that, and they had soon lapsed into an awkward silence as the minutes passed by wherein the only sound filling the room was the ticking clock from behind them.
Before Kirishima knew it, his mouth was already moving on its own in a bid to break the silence. “So, where did you learn how to bake like that?”
“Hah? The hell do you mean?” Fujimura barked, his voice rising an octave higher.
“Oh, well, it’s obvious from how you move that you’ve been baking for a while now.” Kirishima stated. “Not only that, but you’re really good at cooking as well, and I’m curious to know where you learned how to cook and bake like that. “
“The fuck does it matter to you?” Fujimura snarled, scowling at him. “We agreed on me working for you; not for us to be fuckin’ buddy-buddy and shit.”
“Right, sorry about that.” Kirishima was quick to apologize guiltily. “I got carried away with all the questions. I promise that it won’t happen again.”
“It’s whatever.” Fujimura huffed out, marching forward to the refrigerator to fetch the bowl from it. “Let’s just finish baking those breads.”
“Yeah.” Kirishima agreed, and they went back to what they were doing before with him instructing Fujimura to knead the dough once more.
Only this time, though, there was an unspoken amount of tension in the air lingering between him and Fujimura which couldn’t seem to dissipate no matter how had tried to lighten up the atmosphere, and all Kirishima could do was hope that things would improve before the day’s end.
After all, it wouldn't do him good if he were to be on bad terms with his newest employee.