Work Text:
Kliome giggled as she lightly hung off of Denki’s neck in the doorway. “I love you,” she said in a cutesy voice.
Denki grinned down at her, holding his hands up. “I love you, too, cutie, but we gotta go.”
Kliome kissed his nose.
He gave her a helpless smile. “Kliome, come on. I’m actually set to be early to work for once.”
She gave a little pout, setting herself back on her feet. “Are we still on for lunch today?”
“I honestly can’t promise but I’ll do my best. Pray no one decides to make my day interesting?”
“Fingers crossed.” Kliome gave him one last kiss on his cheek before sprinting out to her truck. “Bye! Love you!” She called out the window as she pulled off.
Denki blinked, a confused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shook his head as he made his way to his car, pausing as he settled into the driver’s seat. A folded paper was tented on the steering wheel. He opened it.
‘Good morning Chargebolt, I hope you have a wonderful day! You deserve it.
Love, your biggest fan.’
He smiled again. The i’s were dotted with little zig-zags for lightning bolts. Kliome could be so precious.
He arrived at the agency with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. “Share some of that happy with the rest of us,” called a sidekick playfully.
When he went to change into his hero costume, something fell out of his jacket. Another paper, this time yellow.
‘Thank you for all your hard work. We’re all safer because you're on the street.’
No i’s for her to dot this time, but she signed the note with a lightning bolt regardless. He couldn’t help but smile again. Even though he was a pro now, the doubts still lingers at the back of his mind, old insecurities following him from his days at U.A. None knew that better than Kliome.
“Fan Mail?”
Denki startled at the voice in his ear, nearly dropping the note. He whipped around to see Hakurei snickering into the high collar of his jacket. “Moody!”
“You were watching that note pretty intensely.” Hakurei raised an eyebrow and Denki had to remind himself that this guy was only half a decade older than he was.
Denki shoved it into his bag in his locker. “It’s from Kliome.”
Hakurei’s smile grew. “Nothing like sweet words from your soulmate to send you into battle, huh?” He merely huffed a knowing laugh at the red that climbed Denki’s face.
Patrol had been uneventful until two guys decided that Denki needed to get his blood pumping. What started as an antique store heist turned into a foot chase that attracted a gang of known troublemakers just looking for a reason to show off their quirks. It only escalated from there, introducing multiple stolen cars and a giant of a girl with a projectile-type quirk way too similar to Bakugo’s. He definitely wasn’t making it to lunch.
It took them four hours to get the situation under control. Denki looked up as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He gave Hakurei a wry smile.
“Need a mood boost?” Hakurei offered, looking a bit worse for wear himself.
Denki shook his head, pushing his hair from his face. “Nah, thanks man. Looks like you need to use your quirk on yourself.”
“If only I could.” Hakurei stumbled, giving Denki a grateful look for not letting him hit the broken pavement.
A pair of paramedics came to check them over, taking Hakurei away in an ambulance.
Denki plopped down on the sidewalk, catching his breath while waiting to be collected to go back to the agency. The paperwork was gonna be a doozy for this one. He pulled his phone from his breast pocket under his t-shirt. His message app was loaded with notifications, but Kliome’s chat - pinned to the top - was lit up with a tiny "1" in the colored circle.
‘I heard some jerks decided to make your day interesting, ^^’. Don’t worry about lunch. We’ll make up for it later. I know you fought hard and well. I’m proud of you. And proud to be yours. :P
PLEASE go to the hospital, Chargebolt. Even if you think you’re fine. I’ll be mad if you don’t >:(
I wuv you <3'
His lips pulled up to one side and he reread the message again before typing out a response, hitting send just as a set of footsteps approached him. It was time to get back to base.
Denki was in the camp of agency employees that started paperwork at the earliest opportunity. Mainly so he could get as much as he could down while it was still fresh in his thankfully unscrambled brain.
A quick shower and change of clothes later, Denki was making his way to his desk. Upon approach, he noticed a container set next to the thick folder waiting for his write up. Taped to the top was a blue paper folded in the shape of a star. He sat down before unfolding it.
‘Yes, I made this. Yes, it’s a salad. You know my salads are never lacking. Hope it can comfortably tide you over until you get off. You deserve every piece of chicken and shrimp in this bowl.
P.S. Eat every legume. Every single one.’
He carefully popped off the lid, taking in the colorful and weighty meal. She had stripped the lettuce, fried the chicken and the shrimp, and he counted three different kinds of beans, chickpeas, and pigeon peas, all tossed in a dressing he couldn't identify. It honestly looked like filling for her homemade naan or a tortilla.
Thankfully, he didn't have to leave the agency building for the rest of his shift so he was actually able to finish all the preliminary paperwork. The drive home was a careful one. He had a medical all-clear but was still sore all over. A fortunate coincidence that he was scheduled off tomorrow. Not so fortunate was that Kliome wouldn't be able to spend the day with him, but he reminded himself yet again that he would, in fact, not perish from Kliome-deficiency over the course of a 24-hour period.
A pink note greeted him at eye-level on the front door.
'Good work today, Chargebolt. Rest well.'
He took it inside. His face squinched in confusion at the mess that greeted him. Well, not exactly a mess. But there were folded papers on every surface. Every seat in the living room. The coffee table, the TV stand, the dining table… every chair had a paper folded over the back and one in the center of the seat. The kitchen island, the counters, the microwave, the fridge, even the pile of clean dishes in the drainer and the sink faucet.
How long had she been planning this?
The bathroom was in a similar state. Folded papers of varying colours on the closed toilet seat, the toilet tank, their - dry - towels, taped to the back of the door...
On to the bedroom, then. Spotless. Had she run out? He walked in to see their dresser. The mirror was completely outlined in post-its.
He sat on the bed. His phone went off in his pocket.
'Good night, my electric love. I landed safely.
Bet you won't find them all before I get back. :P'
He smiled. He couldn't love this woman enough.