Work Text:
"Mmm. Babe, it smells amazing in here. What'd you-"
Kirishima stopped in the doorway.
There were cookies covering the counter.
Not one batch of cookies.
Several.
There was a cake cooling beside them, two trays of brownies, something that looked suspiciously like muffins, and enough pastries to stock the break room at his agency for a week.
Kirishima slowly looked toward the kitchen, "Katsuki?"
"What."
"How long have you been baking?"
"Don't worry about it."
Kirishima smiled, "Okay."
He set his bag down and crossed the kitchen without another word.
Bakugo barely glanced up when Kirishima stepped behind him.
His arms slipped around his waist, pulling him gently back against his chest.
Bakugo tensed for half a second.
Then Kirishima pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "Bad day?"
Bakugo's shoulders tightened, "It's handled."
"Didn't ask if it was handled."
Silence.
His hands moved up, settling over Bakugo's shoulders.
His thumbs worked slowly into the tense muscles there, pressing firmly enough to make Bakugo's head dip forward.
Kirishima followed the movement, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck.
Then another just below it, his lips brushing over the same muscles his fingers were kneading.
Bakugo let out a quiet breath.
Kirishima smiled against his skin and moved slowly across his shoulders, leaving a few lazy kisses wherever his hands had just been.
"Just asked if it was a bad day."
Bakugo mumbled something Kirishima didn't understand.
"That bad?"
"Shut up."
Kirishima only hummed, rubbing his shoulders in slow circles.
He didn't ask what happened.
Didn't ask why Bakugo had been baking since apparently the beginning of time.
Didn't tell him he needed to relax.
He just stayed there.
After a minute, some of the tension finally left Bakugo's shoulders.
Kirishima smiled and rested his chin against his shoulder.
"These cookies look really good, by the way."
"Obviously."
"I think I'll take some to the agency tomorrow."
Bakugo snorted, "Take all of them."
Kirishima looked around at the ridiculous amount of baked goods, "Gladly. My coworkers are going to love you."
"They don't need to know I made them."
Kirishima laughed softly, "Fine, your secret's safe with me."
"Good."
He slipped his arms around Bakugo again, resting his chin against his shoulder.
"Although, for the record, I think it's really cute."
Bakugo groaned, "Don't start."
"I'm not starting anything." Kirishima pressed a slow kiss beneath his ear, "I'm just saying I like when you bake."
"You're fucking weird."
"Maybe."
Another kiss, this one against his neck.
Bakugo's eyes drifted shut for a moment.
Kirishima's hands settled over his shoulders again, thumbs working gently into the lingering tension.
Bakugo exhaled and leaned back into him.
Just a little.
Kirishima didn't comment on it.
Bakugo didn't have to acknowledge it, and Kirishima wasn't going to make him.
It was just Kirishima, quietly reminding his husband that he didn't have to hold himself together every second of every day.
Instead, he kept rubbing his shoulders and started talking about what he could take to work tomorrow.
Cookies for the break room.
Brownies for the afternoon meeting.
Maybe the muffins could go to Bakugo's agency.
Kirishima stayed close the entire time.
Nothing was asked of Bakugo.
He didn't have to talk.
He didn't have to explain.
He just had to let Kirishima be there.
Bakugo stayed there for another moment before reluctantly pulling away.
He glanced around the kitchen.
"Come on. We should probably clean up this mess."
Kirishima picked up one of the empty mixing bowls, and Bakugo started gathering the baking sheets.
By the time they started cleaning up, Bakugo was actually talking back.
The clipped answers had turned into complaints, then commentary, then the occasional reluctant laugh.
They fell into an easy rhythm.
Kirishima kept talking as they worked, mostly about nothing important.
He told Bakugo about something stupid one of his sidekicks had done that morning, complained about a report he'd have to finish tomorrow, and periodically held up a container to decide whether it was going to his office or Bakugo's.
Every so often, he reached out.
A hand on Bakugo's back as he passed behind him.
Fingers brushing his wrist when he handed him something.
A quick squeeze to his shoulder.
A kiss against his temple when he happened to be close enough.
By the time the last baking sheet had been washed and the counters were finally clear, Bakugo's shoulders had dropped considerably.
Kirishima leaned against the counter beside him.
"Help me decide what we're keeping."
Kirishima grinned, "Thought you said I could take all of it."
"I changed my mind."
Kirishima's smile grew, warm and bright, "I was hoping you'd say that."
Bakugo rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it.
"Yeah, well…after everything you put up with, the least you deserve is some damn cookies."