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“Hey Bakubro!” Kirishima called, his famously infectious smile plastered across his features. The blonde in question glanced over his shoulder, two squash—he was deciding which one he wanted—in each hand. “Totally crazy coincidence, I ran into Sero and Kami here!” Kiri practically dragged the pair over with an arm around each of their shoulders.
Kaminari was the first to speak. “Hey, man! It’s been forever since we got the Bakusquad together. How you been? Got you a pretty little chick yet?” He leaned in, waggling his eyebrows and grinning toothily. “…No.”
“You’re such a buzzkiiiiill! You only ever talk to Kirishima anymore, it’s so not cool dude.” Denki let out an exaggerated sigh as he turned and patted Kiri on the bicep. “Me and Sero are off, gotta catch our movie. See you two around!”
Kirishima waved and gave them a loud goodbye, strolling up next to Bakugo. “You okay, man? You were kinda cold to our buddies there.” The redhead's brows creased with concern as he tilted forward to take in Bakugo’s expression. “I’m fine. They’re just annoying.”
“Well, we can go home soon. We’ve almost got everything on the list, right?” Kirishima stared up at the ceiling as he counted on his fingers, his hands being swatted by Bakugo. “Yeah, this is the last thing,” he grumbled, referring to the squash in his hands.
“I think we should geeeet… that one!” He pointed towards the one on Bakugo’s left, and the latter nodded.
They walked towards the checkout, Bakugo pushing the cart and Kirishima bouncing around excitedly like a child in a candy store. He picked things up every few minutes, only to get threatened with tiny warning blasts from Bakugo’s palms. “We got what we needed, now let’s go,” the blonde said gruffly. “But are you suuuuure we don’t need that?” Kiri said, trailing after Bakugo.
“What the fuck do we need a rotating knife block for? Ours works just fine!” Kirishima let out a groan but didn’t argue. He knew Bakugo was right.
***
Finally, they made it home.
Kirishima didn’t seem as excited as Bakugo, whose heroism had him working later and later shifts. It was exhausting. Any socializing? Absolutely not. He’d rather pull off his fingernails one by one. Well, except for Eijiro.
“You got the last of it, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo yelled from halfway down the stairs, receiving a ‘yep!’ shouted in response. Kirishima came teetering up the stairs, Quirk-hardened forearms bearing five loaded grocery bags each. He was like a golden retriever—eager to make himself useful.
“Hey, I have a request,” Kiri said after he set the bags down on the counter. They worked together to put everything away, Bakugo carefully watching Eijiro and adjusting where he needed to. “What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Can we lay together after this?”
“Sure?” Bakugo put his hands on his hips and nodded to himself at the organization of the produce drawer in their fridge. “Normally you just do it though, why’d you ask?”
Kirishima smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, Mina and I called the other day and she was telling me about this thing she did with Jirou and Yaoyorozu where they laid together and told each other like, I dunno… how they viewed each other and stuff.”
“And you wanna do that.” It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a statement.
“Well, I think it’d be pretty neat!” He said, flashing Bakugo two thumbs-up.
There was some grumbling under his breath about it, but soon enough, Kirishima was smiling triumphantly with his chin resting on Bakugo’s sternum. “Isn’t this nice?” He asked, his knees on either side of Bakugo’s thighs. “Don’t you think this position is kind of— unmanly?”
Eijiro poked at the frown on Bakugo’s lips. “No way! Showing your partner you love ‘em is super manly!” A sigh ruffled the strands at Kiri’s hairline. “Whatever you say. So how do we do this?”
“The way Mina explained it was like, we just compliment each other.” He shrugged. “I compliment you all the time?” Katsuki said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ll go first,” the redhead laughed, his eyes scrunching closed as he did. “You always smell kinda sweet. Aw, man, now I’m cravin’ something,” he complained, reaching a hand down to pat his stomach.
Bakugo smiled and brushed a hand through Kiri’s hair. “I’ll make you something later.”
“For real? You’re the best, dude! Especially when you get all soft,” he teased, pressing his cheek to Bakugo’s oddly warm skin.
“I’m gonna blow up your face,” Katsuki grumbled, earning a chuckle from his supposed target.
“Yeah right! Anyways… uh, I like your hair. It’s always soft and always smells like candy apples,” Kiri smiled. “And your lips always taste like cherry from your chapstick.”
“…Dude, what is it with you and food right now?”
Kirishima groaned. “I told you, man, I’m hungry. But!” he perked up excitedly again, hunger seeming to be momentarily forgotten. “It’s your turn!”
“Your hair isn’t that bad, I guess,” Bakugo muttered, turning his face to hide the faint blush dusting the curve of his ears.
“That’s not really a… compliment?” he chuckled, his brows raising slightly.
The blonde instantly reacted, his expression morphing into one of embarrassed anger as he brought a warming palm up to Kiri’s cheek. Luckily, Eijiro—who has Bakugo’s behavior so well understood he could be called a demolitions expert—activated his quirk in time. His weak explosion met unyielding, stone-like skin.
“That was a compliment,” Bakugo said gruffly, mouth twisted with a scowl.
Kirishima smiled at him, skin shifting back into its normal state. “I know. Best you can manage?”
The warning growl Bakugo gave was enough to draw a warm chuckle out of him. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop.”
One thing Eijiro could count on, however, is Katsuki’s refusal to lose. It was clear in the determined pull of his jaw, taut with racing thoughts. And Kirishima found himself lost.
Lost in the faintly shadowed clench of his masseter, the straight jut of his nose, the fire burning behind ruby-red irises. He’s always been beautiful to Eijiro, perhaps not always in the same way, but beautiful nonetheless. He remember when he first saw him in the locker room, almost letting his mouth hang open when he caught sight of the blonde’s charcoal-etched abs. It was a little envious, and it was a little in awe. Katsuki Bakugo had been the manliest shit he’d ever laid eyes upon!
But over time, it’d grown into a gentler appreciation. Starstruck by the honeyed hue his hair turned under sunlight. The vicious snarl of his smile, canines white and pristine like a predator. The way his palms glowed before he let off an explosion. The relaxed demeanor he donned in the kitchen, deadly hands lithely maneuvering fragile foods.
Bakugo was too arrogant to be an angel, too fiery, and too aggressive to be a creation of a benevolent God, but he was too grand to be merely a man.
The return of Katsuki’s embarrassed mumbling brought Kirishima out of his molasses-like daze.
“…I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured, the words sounding like he was forcing them out. Eijiro almost laughed.
“What do you mean?”
Bakugo let out an exasperated sigh, and then his words flooded out like a dam shattering.
“I’m glad it’s you who can tolerate me. That can counter my Quirk. That understands me. Beyond all my anger.”
Kirishima lets his head settle against Bakugo’s chest again. “That was pretty manly,” he said. He let his finger trace patterns over Katsuki’s exposed bicep, following the curve of the muscle.
“You’re gonna ruin it, Shitty Hair.”
He chuckled warmly, curling his full hand over Bakugo’s arm now. “I mean it! It’s manly to be expressive about your feelings. Even if they aren’t feelings that necessarily need to be communicated, ya’know? It still takes bravery to open up, and that’s manly.”
“Sometimes you are uncharacteristically wise,” Katsuki said, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah!” Eijiro replied brightly. “I’m just in tune with my emotions.”
“Riiiight.”
***
Somewhere amidst the comfortable silence the pair had fallen into, Kirishima had vacated his position on top of Bakugo and settled with his back to the blonde’s chest, warm and strong arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen.
He felt the air grazing over his neck slow to the deep and even breaths of someone sleeping, and let a small smile worm its way onto his face. Despite Kirishima never getting the treat Bakugo had promised (which was very unfortunate in his eyes), he was happy.
How could he not be?
Eijiro made sure to dim the brightness on his phone, the pale light from his screen making his warm skin tone seem pallid. It was nice.
Peaceful.
Under all that anger Bakugo carried with him was someone who just wanted to be seen and appreciated. And Kirishima was delighted to do that, because he genuinely felt Katsuki deserved it (Bakugo is super manly!).
So the pair worked, despite some raised eyebrows, like the moon pulling the tide.
…
Perhaps he’ll ask for that treat tomorrow morning, just to see Katsuki in the kitchen, bathed in morning sunlight. Beautiful, as all things loving should be.