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Kirishima hears the rough thump of fists knocking against the front door. The sound is heavy and fierce, but stops after a few knocks, allowing the morning silence to settle back once again. He starts to shift, waking from his slumber and feeling the warmth of Bakugou’s arms around his waist– the way his hold is strong and tight, as if, even deep in slumber, Bakugou would do anything to protect him.
Keeping his eyes closed, Kirishima starts to bury himself deeper in the juncture of Bakugou’s neck and shoulders, hoping to get closer in a way that seems impossible. But it never hurt to try.
They were both shirtless, allowing Kirishima to feel the skin under his lips before pressing soft, tender kisses along the dips and curves of his neck.
He inhales the sweet musk of Bakugou’s sweat, realizing how addicting, not only the taste of him is, but the smell too. An aroma he never wants to forget.
Suddenly, another bout of knocks interrupts his indulging, causing the hair on his arm to stand.
He hears the blonde above him groan as he pulls Kirishima in tighter, whispering faint curses under his breath along Kirishima’s hairline. Although his grips tight, Kirishima can tell he’s out of it. Can tell the late night they had enjoyed together, wrapped in the love they both thought impossible, had left Bakugou groggy and tired.
Not grumpy by any means. Just… functioning on less sleep than he’s accustomed to.
Kirishima cracks his eyes open, letting the hazy light adjust his pupils. He starts to make out the particles of dust floating over him, and the way the light shines like some angelic dream. He leans out of Bakugou’s hold just a bit. Enough to get a glance at his face.
And man, is he gorgeous. Sharp lines angle throughout his face in a way that, on anyone else, would look angry or distressed, but on Bakugou? It was like the picture of serenity. In ways, his sleeping face reminds Kirishima of a supermodel. Naturally flawless. The difference with the blonde is that Bakugou didn’t need the makeovers or the stylists to make him look perfect. He just was. True natural beauty. The kind you couldn’t find in a magazine.
Before he has the chance to stare more, to take this image in, to remind himself that this is all real. Everything that happened last night. Everything they said. Everything they did. It wasn’t some dream he conjured in his head. It was real.
Before he can give his partner more love, all the love he deserves, he feels the thump of more knocking– far more boisterous and rapid this time– the solicitors outside clearly growing impatient.
Kirishima leans down as Bakugou scowls at the sound. He caresses his head in his hands and brushes back the fluff of hair sticking out over his forehead. “I’ll go get it. Go back to sleep Katsuki.”
He marks his last words with a kiss to Bakugou’s cheek, and the man leans into the touch, whining just a bit as Kirishima pulls away. Almost instantly, Bakugou finds his breath at ease once again, the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest assuring Kirishima that his partner had fallen back to sleep
Kirishima smiles as he hops off the bed, rubbing his eyes and pulling a shirt on– one that had been lazily tossed in a pile of clothes on the floor during their late night escapades. As he exits the room, he hears more knocking along with some grumbling on the other side of the door. He yells out “I’m coming!” through his yawn as he makes it to the door.
Honestly, Kirishima’s not sure what he’s expecting when he opens the door. But he certainly isn’t expecting Kaminari, Sero, and Mina to be standing at the door with an innocent grin.
Kirishima’s eyes go wide, mere seconds after all his friends faces fall in shock. There’s a moment. A single second of silence, before chaos interrupts at the doorway. Questions and comments fly by Kirishima like darts. His friends are practically pushing him further into the apartment as they get closer and closer, and Kirishima all too suddenly realizes his mistake.
“What are you doing here?” “Did you sleep here?” “You didn’t tell us you were sleeping here.” “Why’d you open Bakugou’s door?” “He never lets anyone open his door.” “We tried to call you a million times.” “What happened to your phone?” “Do you even love us anymore?” “What the fuck does this mean?” “Is that Bakugou’s shirt?”
With that last comment, Kirishima looks down and realizes that, yes, he is in fact, not only wearing Bakugou’s shirt, but wearing his signature skull T-shirt. The one he wore almost every other day back in high school.
Fuck.
As he tries to calm the group down, all too aware that Bakugou is still trying to sleep in the other room, he does his best to think of some kind of excuse as to why he’d be there. Why he’s in Bakugou’s clothes. Why he looks like he’s been charged back to life through just the sheer adrenaline of finally having Bakugou’s kisses all to himself.
Because of course he can’t tell them the truth. He doesn’t even know how Bakugou feels about all this yet. Of course, he’d love to jump up and down and tell the world that he scored Bakugou Katsuki as a boyfriend, but he doesn’t get to make that call alone.
So what’s the plan here?
“Well,” he starts, elongating the word as if it’ll magically give him even more time to think, “I was…uh… on a late night run in the neighborhood last night and saw a dog that was stuck in a tree.” His friends blink. “A-and as I was trying to get the little guy down, a branch from the tree caught on my shirt and completely ripped it off! Yeah, yeah. So I dropped the puppy off at the shelter, and you know, it’s not like I can walk home shirtless, so I stopped here to borrow a shirt from Bakugou… cause like I said, I was in the neighborhood. But then we watched a movie together, and we ended up falling asleep. And that’s why I’m here and for no other reason whatsoever!” Kirishima gives them all a confident smile, even though he feels it fall a bit flat and crooked under the weight of their gazes
Because all his friends are looking at him like they’re not convinced. Eyebrows are quirked up and stances are slanted. Mina’s stare is the most poignant of the three. Perhaps because she’s the only one who knows about Kirishima’s true feelings.
Well, the only one before last night.
Kaminari and Sero, however, stare as if they’re beginning to put the pieces together– beginning to solve the (not-so-well) hidden clues and hints to Kirishima’s true feelings. Kirishima actually sees the exact moment it clicks for Sero. His furrowed brows relax, and the tension in his face is replaced with a sly smirk as he looks Kirishima up and down. Almost like he’s silently telling Kirishima “It’s about damn time.”
Kaminari still hasn’t figured it out. His brain seems to work into overdrive connecting the dots, and Kirishima almost decides to simply spare the man the headache before Kaminari breaks the silence with a question. “Dude, what do you mean you couldn’t walk home shirtless? That’s literally your hero costume?!”
For a moment, it’s still.
And then, the living room is immersed with the loud laughter of Sero and Mina.
The two scramble over themselves. Mina falls to the floor while Sero leans against Kaminari for support. Kaminari looks at them, clearly confused as to why his words would cause such a reaction, but also maybe a bit proud that he could get such a laugh (however unintentionally that might be).
All this while Kirishima stands there, a blush blooming from the tip of his nose to the joints in his fingers. Heat flames his face as he bites down a smile, because, yeah… that was a pretty dumb excuse in hindsight, but in his defense, he just had one of the best nights of his life.
Sorry if he wasn’t perfectly right in the head the morning after.
“You idiots are too damn loud,” Bakugou says, trudging over from his room, past their friends, and towards the kitchen.
The laughter begins to die, but not without a few lingering chuckles. And apparently Mina has decided this can be her final day on earth, ‘cause she asks, in a not-so-subtle tone, “Heeeey Bakugou? So why’s Kiri wearing your shirt? You don’t really like letting people borrow your stuff.”
Her grin is sly, almost wicked, but Bakugou doesn’t even look at her. He just rummages around the pantry, looking for the ingredients for breakfast as he says, “If my dumbass boyfriend wants to steal my shirt and cuddle, I’m going to let him. What kind of a fucking monster do you think I am?”
Everyone goes silent– enough for the buzz of the air conditioning to seem booming– and Kirishima feels like he can’t possibly blush any harder as he processes the words.
Suddenly one voice breaks the silence.
“OHHHH!” Kaminari’s shouts, word echoing in the apartment. And for the second time, both Sero and Mina collapse to the floor in a fit of laughter, teasing the blonde a bit for not catching on sooner, but making it known how much they love his adorable cluelessness
Kirishima laughs with his friends for a minute before making his way to the kitchen. Hovering behind Bakugou, slowly starting to etch his way into the blondes space.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
The word repeats in his head like a catchy melody he can’t get out. And he doesn’t want to get it out. He wants it to play forever. He wants to hear it again and again. Not only from his memory, but also live. He wants to hear Bakugou say it again– so earnestly and honestly. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
At first, Kirishima doesn’t realize how much he’s smiling. But once he does, he finds he truly can’t stop himself from doing so. Because he is Bakugou’s boyfriend. He, Kirishima Eijirou, is the boyfriend of THE Bakugou Katsuki.
The man he’s loved for as long as he can remember. The man who taught him how to love in the first place. The man whose bed he shared last night, full of kisses and cuddles and a lifetime worth of desire thrust into one night.
Whatever dream he’s in, he never wants to wake up. Not when he’s living in a world where he can wrap his arms around Bakugou from behind, as the blonde so casually makes breakfast. One where he can nuzzle into his neck. Kiss the red tinting of his cheek. Whisper a sweet, but soft, “I love you” and feel the sensation of hearing those three sweet words said back in return, as he kisses the lips that deem him so worthy to love in the first place.