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    Summary

    "Fucking bastards, I'm getting sick of this shit," Bakugo said, standing, his eyes darting down between the two, with a glare that could have set them ablaze. "Neither of you have been exactly fucking subtle. Sizing me up at my goddamn job like a couple of mutts in heat for months. You’re both absolute shit at whispering, by the way."
    At that moment, Kirishima was ninety-nine percent sure they were both about to get a fist to the face.

    He's down so bad he'd accept it with a 'thank you' and a smile.

    Instead, Bakugo shifted his gaze back and forth between them hard, with a look of contemplation. Suddenly, he let out a slight snort that bordered on laughter, with an ominous grin slowly creeping across his face. Lowering onto the coffee table, he leaned back on the palms of his hands, legs spread like an invitation.

    "Kiss."

    Kirishima and Tetsu have a mutual fixation on the mean barista at their local coffee shop.

    Language:
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