Work Text:
Bakugou wasn’t normally a guy who questioned his actions. He was confident, walked with his head held high, and succeeded at anything he put his mind to. But as he stared at the recipes he had pulled up on his phone, he was starting to sweat.
He knew Kirishima was Jewish. Well, sort of. Kirishima’s mom remarried when he was young, and the woman she chose to spend the rest of her life with happened to be Jewish. Kirishima grew up celebrating, and every year he looked forward to going home for the holidays.
But this year, he couldn’t. The sadness on Kirishima’s face was obvious and had stuck around since he found out he couldn’t visit his family due to safety issues. Nobody was allowed to leave the dorms, and they’d all be forced to celebrate the festive season together.
The issue was—no one else was Jewish. Bakugou knew not to expect anything representing Hanukkah at their Christmas party, and he couldn’t bear to see Kirishima disappointed and sad. The holidays were special, and Bakugou planned on making sure Kirishima felt as at home as possible.
Even if he had no fucking idea what he was doing.
Bakugou wanted to cook Kirishima a few traditional Jewish dishes, but the longer he looked at the two recipes he had chosen, the more worried he became. The perfectionist in him needed everything to be…well, perfect. Kirishima deserved the best, and Bakugou didn’t want to disappoint him—especially not when he was already feeling so down.
Bakugou sighed and tried to get himself together. Sero had taken Kirishima out so there would be plenty of time for him to prepare everything before they came back, but the clock was ticking. He needed to get his ass moving, and overthinking wasn’t going to get him anywhere.
He reached into his pocket for his headphones and popped them into his ears before getting to work. The two dishes he was preparing were matzo ball soup and latkes. While he was doing research, the two seemed to be the most popular among the Jewish masses. Bakugou hoped that with the loaf of rye bread he had purchased from Kirishima’s favorite bakery, the comfort foods would help him feel at least a little less homesick.
With music blasting loud enough to drown out his thoughts, Bakugou focused on making the stock for the soup first. Once the pot was on the cooker, he switched recipes and began thinly slicing potatoes. He was quick with the knife, and only a few minutes passed before he was ready to form the latkes and place them into the hot pan that was waiting on the stovetop.
While the latkes were frying, Bakugou grabbed the matzo balls he had made a few hours earlier out of the refrigerator. He dropped them in with the broth and covered it with a lid so the contents could simmer for a bit. Satisfied, Bakugou went back to the latkes, turning them over to crispen in the crackling oil.
Bakugou sighed and felt his shoulders relax; the food was almost ready, and his confidence in cooking the foreign cuisine was much better than when he started. Everything smelled delicious, and he hoped Kirishima would like it. He knew Kirishima had never been a picky eater, but he couldn’t help but worry a little bit—he was a perfectionist, afterall.
Plus, Kirishima deserved the best, and Bakugou wanted nothing but that for him.
Bakugou pulled a plate from the cabinet, covered it with a few paper towels, and piled the latkes on top. He grabbed two deep set bowls and filled them with soup, and then gathered two sets of utensils and the rye bread before carrying everything upstairs on a tray to Kirishima’s dorm.
He was thankful he had already decorated Kirishima’s room. It wasn’t much, but he had laid out a few blankets with some cushions on the floor, along with his laptop that they’d be watching a film on while they ate. The menorah Bakugou bought was sitting on Kirishima’s desk, the pack of candles and a lighter resting beside it as they awaited their purpose.
Bakugou set the tray down next to the blankets and climbed into the pile and got comfortable. He pulled out his phone to see Sero had texted him: he and Kirishima were back at the dorms, and Kirishima was on his way upstairs.
Perfect.
His heart thrummed as excitement and nerves swirled in his stomach. Bakugou kept his eyes on the door, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make out any approaching footsteps because of his hearing loss. A shadow danced through the crack under the door, and a few seconds later, Kirishima was stepping through the archway with a very confused look on his face.
“Hey Ei,” Bakugou said with a grin. Kirishima’s eyes flickered to his, and Bakugou patted the spot beside him. “Get over here.”
“What’s all this?” Kirishima asked as he set his backpack down by the door. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he happily did as he was told.
“Dinner and a movie,” Bakugou replied and reached his hand out towards Kirishima, who took it without a second thought and joined him on the blanket.
“Dinner…?” Kirishima looked at the tray, “You made latkes and matzo ball soup?” His eyes widened; he was clearly surprised, and Bakugou’s smile grew wider.
“I got you some bread from that bakery you love, too,” Bakugou said, and Kirishima’s face lit up even brighter than before.
“I…” Kirishima’s voice trailed off once he noticed the menorah sitting on his desk. Tears filled his eyes and Kirishima quickly wiped them away. “Tonight’s the first night of Hanukkah,” he whispered.
“Mhm,” Bakugou replied, “I thought it’d be nice to celebrate—even though this isn’t…super traditional.” He took Kirishima’s hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze.
Kirishima let out a small laugh. “My moms have never been too traditional anyways,” he smiled and leaned in to kiss Bakugou on the cheek. “Even just the thought means the world to me.”
Bakugou’s cheeks burned—Kirishima was the only person who could ever make him feel like this. He turned away to hide his face and reached for the candles beside the menorah.
“Well, let’s get this night started then, eh?” he asked Kirishima as he pulled one of the white candles from the box. “Don’t want the food to go cold.”
“Absolutely not,” Kirishima agreed with a grin. “You got a lighter?”
“‘Course I do.” Bakugou rolled onto his hip so he could retrieve one from his pocket, and clicked it a few times for fun.
“Well, come on! We’ve got to do it near a window.” Kirishima stood and offered Bakugou his hand.
“Why a window?” Bakugou asked as Kirishima helped him up.
“It’s tradition—you’re supposed to place a lit menorah in your front window so it’s facing the street. It represents bringing light into a dark world,” Kirishima explained with a joyful expression.
Bakugou smiled at him; Kirishima had always been a bright light that burned away any darkness in his life—in a way, he could relate to the tradition.
“I like that,” Bakugou said as he watched Kirishima take the menorah and set it on the windowsill. He met him at his side and offered the candle and lighter, but Kirishima shook his head.
“You should light it,” he said confidently. “It is our first Hanukkah together.” Kirishima’s grin only continued to widen.
“I—is there a certain way to do it?” Bakugou looked at the menorah nervously. Maybe he should have done a little more research; he had spent too much time obsessing over the cooking.
“Only when there’s more than one candle,” Kirishima said as he guided Bakugou’s hand to the furthest right candle holder, “You place them from right to left, and then you light the candles in the opposite direction.”
Bakugou raised the lighter to the wick and Kirishima gave him a nod of approval. He flicked the spark wheel and watched a small flame come to life. With a slightly shaky hand, he lit the candle, and small shadows began to dance across his and Kirishima’s face.
“Great job,” Kirishima said in a soft voice as they watched the candle burn.
Bakugou was surprised how much light one flame could provide. He leaned in towards Kirishima and looked into his gorgeous red eyes that sparkled in a way he had never seen before.
He couldn’t help but pull Kirishima in for a delicate kiss. It was short, and when Bakugou pulled away, he was happy to see that familiar smile he loved so much stretch across Kirishima’s lips.
“Happy Hanukkah, Ei.”