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Honestly it would be a lie to say that today hadn’t been grating, an endless, slow peeling that left his brain feeling raw and angry. A headache pulsing behind his eyes, Shouto stood for the first time in what felt like a millenia from the bland, cookie-cutter cubicle that had been making his thoughts just as dull, bland, and grey as the drab setup.
He had been punished with desk-duty after getting injured enough to nearly cause a national panic, but all things considered, from his perspective, it was really quite dull. The only thing that seemed to break up the monotony of “get well soon” and “take care of yourself” that every single person seemed insistent on saying to him whenever they saw him was the fiery blond that gruffly told him to get his ass back on the field so he could kick it himself.
When he was still in the hospital countless people came to see him, but Bakugo’s visits were his favourite, there was not even an edge of sympathy in his eyes, a welcome difference from everyone else, mostly Midoriya but Shouto knew he couldn’t help himself, it was just in his nature. Bakugo wasn’t like that though, mostly just gruff silences but sometimes, when Bakugo thought he wasn’t looking, his eyes would go soft as he gazed at Shouto and before he left he always, always whispered, “you better get out of that bed asshole.”
At first Shouto was a little perplexed, thought maybe his concussion was making him hallucinate Bakugo’s kindness, but over the months in the clinical atmosphere of the hospital he recognized it as a pattern, one that always brought a soft smile to his face while watching Bakugo’s receding back. Of course he didn’t visit nearly as frequently as the others, what with Midoriya checking in on him every day and a smattering of his classmates coming in every week, but when he did come Shouto felt himself relax a little more, strangely comforted by all the small things Bakugo did that suggested a worry beyond what Shouto had thought possible from him.
He remembered one day, about a week after he was allowed real food again, Bakugo came in with a little bento box. Shouto had stared blankly at first when Bakugo dropped it onto his bedside table and planted himself in the visitors chair without a single word. He slowly swiveled his head between Bakugo and the bento box before tilting his head in a silent question.
Bakugo had huffed out an “idiot” beneath his breath before saying, “It’s food, eat it.” When this statement was again followed by silence and a blank expression Bakugo ground out a, “Soba, your favourite, asshole, I made it for you.”
Shouto had released a tiny breath, the blankness in his eyes fading into something quieter, softer, as he whispered a “thank you” and opened the container. The most wondrous smell met him, mouth immediately watering after what had seemed a long month of bland liquids. A small smile appeared on his face, turning quickly to look at Bakugo who was staring at him with his own small smile that twisted into a half-hearted scowl. His eyes didn’t harden along with it though, remaining softened around the edges and filled with a subtle hint of care.
When he had managed to figure out how chopsticks worked again, slightly shaky, he started eating the soba, relishing every bite, vaguely he thought this was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted, bar none, in his entire life.
After that visit Bakugo seemed to come more often, more than half the time carrying along a bento box with something amazing, and making soba for him at least once a week. It was nice, and even after he had been discharged Bakugo still dropped by frequently to give him food, even spending some dinners together, surprisingly quiet conversation filling the silence.
The slamming of a door brought him back to the present, and glancing at the clock he realized that it was nearly an hour past when he was supposed to get off. The office had quieted down a fair bit, but there were still people bustling about, some exhausted heroes writing up reports after what had to be 8-10 hour shifts. Standing up with some struggle, leaning heavily on the wall, which was a recent win, not having to rely on crutches anymore, if only for short distances, he started shuffling his way out of the office, to the lobby. That was the intention, at first, before he was suddenly being gripped around the waist and made to lean against a toned body.
“Stop pushing yourself half and half,” came from the attacker.
If he hadn’t been used to this motion by now he would have swung around and broke the attackers nose, but all he did was relax against Bakugo’s side and look up at him with an annoyed huff from his position against his side.
“I’ve been sitting all day, Bakugo, I need at least some exercise,” Shouto murmured, still looking up at Bakugo, his red eyes reflecting the fluorescent white lights above them.
“Well fucking forgive me if for the last year I’ve watched you struggle to stand for even a few seconds,” Bakugo replied, looking away from Shouto now and starting to drag him to the lobby. Shouto had looked away by then, annoyed at Bakugo for treating him like he was still in the hospital, sweating bullets while relearning to walk. It was annoying, to say the least, after all of his efforts, now when he could finally walk unassisted for a short distance. He held his tongue though, remembering the countless times that Bakugo did catch him when he’d been about to fall and supported him when he could still barely walk assisted. Bakugo’s side was warm, and his presence comforting, so he let him help out to his car and into the seat.
Since returning to work, too early by all of his friend’s standards, Bakugo had taken to escorting him to and from work. It was nice, another easy routine to fall into, and it allowed Shouto to see more of Bakugo, which was always welcome.
The ride was mostly quiet, only the sounds of the road filtering in through the windows, and it calmed his headache a bit. The peacefulness distracted him enough that he didn’t even notice they had made it to his apartment building before being blasted with cold air from his door swinging open and being met with Bakugo’s eyes, a violent ruby in the dark, looking down on him.
“We’re at your stop princess, up and at ‘em,” he said, a smirk lacing his tone.
He had a hand waiting, hovering near Shouto’s face, which he gladly took, as getting up still proved to be an effort. Before he was even fully steady Bakugo had grabbed his waist again, starting to move towards the entrance before Shouto even got to protest against the help, again. It was really a fruitless effort the last few times he had tried though, Bakugo just gazing at him with his ruby eyes, light filtered out of them until Shouto had finished his speech, and fixed him with eyes that held the weight of every single physical therapy session and something personal too, a subtle plead to just let him help so he wouldn’t worry. He continued to help him anyways, and Shouto would not fight it this time, just so he could watch the cloud of worry clear from Bakugo’s eyes.
So Shouto allowed himself to be brought to his apartment, and when he opened the door, to his couch, before Bakugo finally seemed satisfied.
Bakugo stilled then, looking curiously at Shouto for a second before saying, “So… tomorrow is a day off, remember?”
Shouto minutely nodded, eyes lighting up as he looked up at Bakugo, like he knew where this was going. It had been a while since he and Bakugo had the chance to be alone, with Shouto having frequent doctor’s visits recently and Bakugo working on a long case.
He continued, “I could come tomorrow, and hang out… get you groceries because your cabinets are filled with fucking spiderwebs… all that shit,” he ended weakly.
Shouto had already been looking at him, eyes crinkling at the corners with the impression of a smile, before breaking eye contact with a, “Of course, Bakugo, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
--
The next day started with a warm, hazy light, filling Shouto’s room, along with faint clinking coming from the kitchen. Usually Shouto dreaded getting up, waiting for Bakugo to come and drag him out of bed and to the office, shoving his breakfast at him. Even if he grumbled and complained the entire way, it was nice, Bakugo was always nice to him, but especially so after the incident. Sometimes when he stayed over to have dinner, Shouto would find himself staring a little too at him, always accompanied by an annoyingly fond glare from Bakugo when he realized. Shouto wasn’t exactly sure when he found himself more grateful than annoyed at Bakugo, but his presence had become one of the few anchors in Shouto’s life, something to look forward to beyond the white walls of the hospital room, and later the dull migraines that working before he was technically supposed to brought him.
This morning Shouto let himself relax again in his bed, reluctant to break through the warm haze of memories and familiar, comforting sounds from the kitchen. Of course, his peace was broken the way it usually was these days, with Bakugo toeing open the door to his room and walking over to obstruct the light filtering in through the blinds. Shouto let himself blink up at him, hazy and illuminated like some kind of angel from the backlight. It was a funny thought, something that made his eyes light up behind their bleary film and Bakugo to scoff at him, “What are you laughing at half and half?”
Shouto let the words hang for a minute, floaty in the morning light, before replying, “I was just thinking about how you’re sort of my guardian angel.”
Bakugo flushed a muted red, scoffing again and looking away from him before saying, “You’re such an idiot,” followed with a “Breakfast is done, so it’s time to get out of bed princess.” The second half of the sentence lilted with a grin.
After letting Bakugo struggle to pull his dead weight from the bed, Shouto finally acquiesced and let himself be dragged from bed and led down the short hall to his kitchen, where the table was already set and ready.
--
Later in the day, after he and Bakugo had worked their way through a few episodes of particularly trashy tv and complained to each other the whole time, Bakugo, from his perch at Shouto’s side, paused the tv after the end of an episode and said, “Hey, uh, I was thinking of taking you to that park with those annoying ass pigeons you always insist on feeding.”
Shouto’s head had perked up at that, as he twisted out of Bakugo’s side and his eyes took on a subtle wonder and excitement that replaced what would be his version of wide smile and replied, “Did you buy any bread? I just know that Cream and Cookie will be hungry.”
Bakugo replied with an exaggerated eyeroll and a, “It’s not the same fucking pigeons there every time, but yes, I bought that one baguette the pigeons always seem to go feral over.”
“But every time we go to the park I immediately get surrounded by pigeons, so it must be the same ones,” Shouto, a little petulant, replied.
“Yeah because you’re the person who comes basically waving a baguette around and staring at them like they’re your fucking kids or something,” Bakugo had playfully bit back.
“If they’re my kids then Cream would be my favourite,” Shouto replied, a tiny smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
Bakugo had laughed then, loud and bright like all the sunshine in the room had coalesced around him, it was blinding, and Shouto couldn’t find it in himself to look away. When Bakugo had been coming down from the laugh, smile wide, he paused when he looked at Shouto again, eyes fixed on his lips where the hint of a smile lay. The moment lasted for a while, each staring at each other smiling, before Bakugo flushed again and looked away, muttering, “Come on princess, let's go feed your kids.”
--
The day was bright and sunny at the park, light falling through the leaves and staining the ground in a dazzling array. It was a beautiful day, people milling about around the big lake in the center of the park, joggers going steadily around and dogs racing to get ahead of their owners. Shouto had, of course, immediately gone for his favourite bench right at the edge of the lake and immediately a gaggle of pigeons flew down to surround him. Bakugo had let him walk ahead, with the excuse of not wanting to be shit on by any of the pigeons, and watched from a slight distance as Shouto laughed lightly and began speaking to the pigeons as if they were truly his kids while he tore pieces from the baguette to feed to them. It was beautiful, he was beautiful, Bakugo thought, so clearly entranced in the birds around him that he seemed to forget himself a moment, before looking back at Bakugo, smiling, and said, a little louder than normal due to the distance, “Cream’s back!”
Cream was an albino, so it was easy to spot him in the crowd at Shouto’s feet. The pigeon had been a constant since Bakugo had started bringing Shouto here, from when he was still in a wheelchair, till he relied on crutches, and still now, when Shouto could finally walk for himself and got to coo at the little birds by his feet.
Bakugo let himself look for a split second longer before moving to join Shouto with a matching smile, shaking his head slightly as he approached and shuffled Shouto onto the bench.
“Bakugo do you think we could take Cream back with us?” Shouto asked, with just a touch of a joking tone.
“It’s a wild animal, Sho” Bakugo had replied after fixing him with a slightly incredulous stare. After he blurted out, seemingly unconsciously, “And call me Katsuki… idiot.”
Shouto froze for a second, before turning to look at Bakugo with an actual, true smile, and said, “But we could take joint custody of her Katsuki, imagine it.”
Now it was Bakugo’s turn to freeze, before he grinned and spoke before he could regret it, “So you acknowledge that we’re basically in a relationship, eh?”
Shouto blushed at that, something Bakugo had never seen before, and fixed his eyes on Bakugo while saying, “If you want to be, yes.”
It was so stupid that his confession had come out like this, Bakugo thought, he’d been planning some sort of nice dinner to have this conversation over, and was stressed about the answer he would receive for months. To think that it was this simple, this easy, and Shouto had agreed, was still looking up at him with a soft but serious expression on his face.
“Of course Sho, why do you think I’ve been taking care of you for the past year if I didn’t love you?” Bakugo replied, surprisingly soft.
Before Bakugo’s reply, Shouto’s smile had frozen in anticipation, but now it seemed to widen just an inch further as looked up at Bakugo and said, “So this makes us boyfriends now, right?”
Bakugo had replied with a tiny huff before taking Shouto’s face and looking at him steadily, bringing their mouths close together, asking a silent permission. Shouto nodded, just barely, and Bakugo closed the distance, it was short, sweet, and just as magical as Bakugo had been dreaming it would be, that final piece of the puzzle clicking together after all this time.
When they pulled apart, Shouto was still blushing and smiling, his eyes drifting down before they landed on Cream, who had her head cocked to the side and was staring up at them in apparent confusion. This led into Shouto laughing, Bakugo pulling him flush to his side as he reached for the bread again to continue feeding the pigeons, this time significantly warmer in both heart and mind.