Work Text:
Kirishima stopped in the doorway like he’d just stepped on a landmine, except instead of danger, it was desire. There was Bakugou, lounging on the couch, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, legs stretched out, and a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. A book was open in his lap, thumb lazily turning the page like he wasn’t actively melting Kirishima into the floorboards.
Kirishima blinked. Then blinked again. “You’ve been hiding this from me,” he said, voice already lilting with a grin.
Bakugou didn’t even look up. “Hiding what?”
“This,” Kirishima said, gesturing vaguely at all of him as he stepped into the room. “The glasses. The reading. The whole quiet, devastating intellectual vibe you’ve got going on. It’s illegal, babe.”
“Shut up,” Bakugou muttered, but his ears were turning pink, just barely.
Kirishima flopped into the armchair across from him, chin in his hand, eyes absolutely glued to the sharp lines of Bakugou’s face. “I’m not even trying to be annoying. You just look… so good. Like, I want to climb into your lap and mess up your hair, but also? I want to let you finish your book because damn, you’re focused and hot.”
Bakugou turned the page with exaggerated patience. “Then sit there and shut your face so I can finish it.”
Kirishima chuckled, deep and warm, like he wasn’t being scolded at all. “I could be quiet,” he said, voice dropping lower, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Or I could keep talking about how your glasses make you look like a sexy, emotionally distant professor who only kisses his favorite student.”
Bakugou finally looked up, eyes flat behind the lenses. “You need help.”
Kirishima smirked and sank a little deeper into the chair, biting back more words, barely. He didn’t want to ruin the peace, or distract Bakugou from something he was clearly enjoying. But damn, if he didn’t let out a small sigh and think, “I’m dating the hottest man alive, and he’s reading a book like it’s the most normal thing, but it’s completely wrecking me.” How am I supposed to sit still?
Bakugou didn’t say anything at first, just held his place on the page and stared at Kirishima like he was considering whether setting him on fire would be worth the effort. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he nudged the book up slightly and shifted on the couch, just enough to open a space beside him. “You’re not gonna shut up either way, so you might as well do it from my lap.”
Kirishima lit up like he’d been offered the keys to the kingdom. He crossed the room in two steps, settling in beside Bakugou with practiced ease, one arm slung over the back of the couch, the other resting gently on Bakugou’s leg. “No promises on the shutting up,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his temple, just under the arm of the glasses. “But I’ll try.” Bakugou didn’t answer, but he didn’t move away either and Kirishima took that as the win it was, content to sit in silence, basking in the warm weight of his boyfriend and the quiet rustle of a page turning.