Work Text:
Katsuki storms his way to the kitchen, ignoring any stragglers in the common room. It is getting close to curfew after all, not that Katsuki gives a shit about that right now. He props his phone up on the toaster, triple-checking that his do-not-disturb is off. Katsuki, then, grabs the ingredients he needs out of the fridge and cabinets.
He quietly–because it probably is past curfew and like hell is he going to get kicked out–extracts a pan and sets it down on the stove. He opens up the package of bacon and slaps them into the pan while it heats up. Soon, sizzling and popping fills the air. Once the bacon crisps up, Katsuki pulls them out and chops them up. He sets that aside and grabs a block of cheese he stole from the twinkling bastard that didn’t smell like rotting feet. He grates it in sharp movements, back and forth until half is shredded. His phone lights up. Katsuki’s eyes snap to it, and he rushes to grab it before realizing it was a text from his old man. He thought he muted all his text threads besides one. Katsuki mutes him and turns back to the cheese, placing the torn up remains in a bowl with the bacon.
After that is prepared, Katsuki makes the dough. He pours hot water into a large bowl and sprinkles yeast over the top of it. In a few minutes, the yeast froths up like a rabid dog. Good. He dumps in a tiny bit of salt to fight the awakened yeast while he measures out the flour. Most is dumped into the microscopic battlefield, and a handful is tossed into the bacon and cheese to coat it thoroughly. Katsuki vigorously stirs the flour and water into a sticky mess. He tosses the floury bacon and cheese in and evenly distributes the key ingredients before tossing a towel over the bowl.
Now, he has to wait. Not that he’s ever been good at waiting. Katsuki taps his fingers on the counter glaring at the timer he set, wishing it would tick down faster. After a few seconds count down, he gives in and reaches for his phone. Katsuki looks at the numerous news apps he’s downloaded the last few days. None show anything alarming. There are articles on a few battles some random heroes fought today, as well as some bullshit gossip about who Mount Lady might be dating. Useless.
Before he tosses his phone back down, Katsuki hesitates over the location app. Fuck it. He presses it and clicks on Kirishima’s name. There’s no change. Kirishima’s phone is still at Fat Gum’s agency, probably trapped in his locker. Meanwhile, Kirishima is somewhere out there. If his shifty behavior the last couple of weeks was any indication, he’s probably on another mission.
Katsuki remembers his last one. The one that hospitalized him. Granted, Kirishima wasn’t severely injured. He’s too strong to go down like that. But, there’s never a guarantee, especially not in this line of work and especially with the kind of person Kirishima is. He would never stand down if it meant someone else would get hurt. Katsuki checks the news apps again and again until the timer beeps and startles him.
He tips the bowl over onto a floured cutting board and gets to work. Katsuki angrily punches and pulls and pushes to beat the dough into submission. Despite letting his frustrations out, Katsuki is still distracted. His eyes always drift back to his phone, waiting for breaking news notifications. Eventually, his attention refocuses on the dough no longer clinging stubbornly to his hands. Katsuki picks up the lump and smacks it onto a baking sheet, forming it into a round shape.
He lets it rest for thirty more minutes. This time Katsuki turns on his text messages and looks at his conversation with Kirishima. It’s filled with requests for study dates and other outings, as well as random stories or pictures Kirishima sends him. The last message was a few days ago when Kirishima sent him a picture of a weird looking rock he found on patrol. Katsuki types out and deletes several messages, like ‘where are you,’ ‘what the hell’s happening now,’ and ‘are you ok’. He never sends any of them; he knows there won’t be an answer except to maybe the last one. Although, by the time he gets a reply, he should have seen news about the mission anyway.
The timer goes off again, and Katsuki sticks the sheet into the oven. Instead of worrying more, he forces himself to wash the dishes and clean up. After wiping the counter clean, the bread is done. He breathes in the savory smells and leaves it out to cool with a note threatening death to any who dares eat it. The only one who should eat this isn’t here.
Katsuki looks back at the bread before heading to bed. The damn idiot better be around to eat this. And, a day later Kirishima is, with only a few bruises. His tired, slightly forced smile turns brighter as Katsuki shoves the loaf at him once his classmates are distracted by something else.
A few months pass and Katsuki forgets all about his impromptu gift until Kirishima reminds him.
“Hey, Bakugou!” Kirishima catches his attention as he runs towards him. He leans over panting to catch his breath before saying, “I’ve been meaning to ask you… if you could make me some more of that bread. You know. The bacon and cheese one.”
Kirishima asks with an intense look. His eyes burn into Katsuki’s as if trying to brand a message into his brain. Katsuki stares at him, trying to figure out what that message could be. He made that bread, because Kirishima was away on a mission…. Ah. Shit. A feeling Katsuki refuses to call worry courses through him. Although, it is tempered by the relief of being given a warning and fondness of his friend trying to warn him. He doubts Kirishima would try to subtly inform anyone else about a secret mission. Katsuki wonders if Kirishima could tell what he was secretly worried. His friend has always read him better than most, so probably.
“When do you want it?”
Kirishima’s eyes brighten in happiness instead of determination. He flashes his teeth in a broad grin and delightfully declares, “Next week won’t work. But it’d probably be nice to have some on Tuesday.”
So, the mission should be over by Monday, maybe Tuesday at the latest. At least, Katsuki knows when he should be checking the news for any information. Although….
Katsuki agrees with a condition, “Fine. But only if you text me when you’ll be at the dorms. I can’t fend the idiots off forever.”
Kirishima promises to text him. And, just like they promised, Katsuki bakes the bread and Kirishima texts him once he has his phone again. They continue that tradition until they retire.