Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Joining the King Explosion Murder agency wasn’t a decision Kirishima Eijirou regretted.

He has an indisputable battle chemistry with Bakugou that even the hot headed loner acknowledged, leading to him being the one to extend the offer of partnership eight months after they graduated. They're able to draw out each others strengths to the highest potential, and with him there to reel in the temper of the King of explosions and murder, they're even able to excel in the delicate art of rescue missions. However, Eijirou wasn't so naive to dismiss that most importantly his quirk allowed Bakugou to go all out while fighting without having to worry about his comrade's safety.

He was fine with it, flattered even. Being able to serve a purpose like that and take the weight off his partner is something he is proud of, and even though they bicker loudly about strategy and keeping Bakugou from self-sabotaging everytime they go out on the field, their shared drive for greatness never fails. No matter the odds or the height of the walls they face, together they win. With Bakugou there to weaken the structure, he’s able to smash through any foe.

Eijirou is unwilling to even entertain the idea of following someone else, which is only partly because he's always been in love with the short-fused, victory obsessed hero. At least that's what he tells himself as he determines there's no point in fixing something that isn't broken. His personality and quirk are flexible enough to work with anyone, but Bakugou doesn't have such luck with either. He knows he'll never hear it out loud, but Bakugou needs him, and if they work so well together then he sees no benefit in leaving.

However, being together so often has complicated the unspoken tension between them when Eijirou made the mistake of getting too drunk one night after an encounter that changed everything. He knows he can't control himself when intoxicated, but maybe he just wanted to lay it all on the table once and for all. It was becoming almost impossible to focus on missions, and he could feel Bakugou beginning to get fed up with his stupid mistakes in the middle of combat that nearly cost them the upper hand on several occasions.

Could he really be blamed, though? As time went on, Bakugou seemed to only get more breathtaking. If it wasn't already impressive as a teenager, his muscular definition is something to marvel at. Intimidating to villains that stood before him and intoxicating to his endless drooling fans of any gender. When he wasn't at the office dumping reports that needed to be filled and filed to the government on Eijirou's desk, or investigating and challenging villains in the field, he could almost always be found at a gym or in the pro hero quirk training facility enhancing his strength and abilities. Eijirou would join him now and then, but watching Bakugou sweat and push himself made it justifiably difficult to focus on his own performance, so he opted to go alone more often despite his primal desires to chase and fuel his fantasies.

Falling behind isn’t an option, his partner makes that very clear on a daily basis, but every now and then he’s able to get Bakugou away from his strict regiment and let loose.

As indifferent to human company the stubborn brute likes to pretend he is, he rarely puts up any resistance when Eijirou suggests going for drinks after work or hitting up karaoke bars with their high-school friends. Long as it isn't a frequent occurrence, even Bakugou Katsuki needs a little down time in his life.

Eijirou, on the other hand, should really learn when to reign things in.

The aforementioned night.

Eijirou is in high spirits, and he decides that today is definitely worth a celebration.

They had finally tracked a small but troublesome group of villains that had remained one step ahead of them for the past three months and literally blew the roof off of their whole bank robbery organization. Bakugou had been especially frustrated by their evasiveness, so when he blasted the door of their hideout off the hinges and stomped in with his gauntlets already pre-loaded, he looked deranged with blood-lust.

“You slippery fucks are in for a serious slaughter for making me work so damn hard. Don't worry, I'll be sure to let your families know how much you low rate shit-stains deserved it.”

Eijirou shivers at the memory, a smirk pulling at his lips as he flicks his eyes fondly to the desk across from him where a pensive frown is steadily gnawing the end of a pen he isn't even using to pieces as Bakugou forces himself to finish his diluted report on their brutal capture. He could have gotten lost staring at the matured, focused features of his best friend until his phone vibrates on his desk and steals away his attention.

HARDBRO2: Oi, Eji! Saw your bust on the news today! Was that the one?!

His lips part into a wide grin at the message from his undefeated drinking rival that can only lead to an invitation. One of these days he will out drink that guy's steel stomach.

HARDBRO1: Yah! Finally caught those jerks! Man it was so awesome Bakugou went a whole new shade of crazy. I'm glad they didn't show the whole thing on tv cause it would def put a dent in his reputation he was savage haha even I was a little scared xD

HARDBRO2: No joke I bet! Knew youd get em! Good job guys! Victory drinks?! 8D8D8D

HARDBRO1: You know I'm down! I'll see if Bakugou wants to come! :D:D

“Hey, Bakugou! Almost finished your report? Tetsutetsu and I are going for victory drinks, you feelin’ it?” Eijirou’s excitement isn't faltered when Bakugou flicks his narrow eyes over in an exasperated glare that screams “again? That’s three times this week.” while his desk shakes slightly as Eijirou bounces eagerly with his hands planted firmly on the wood. He's fully aware it’s painting an even more annoying picture and Bakugou might just say no out of spite, but he doesn't care.

Tonight, he wants to drink. He wants to distract himself from the overflowing emotions he's been struggling with keeping in check lately and just have a good time. He needs this, and even if Bakugou isn't interested, he’s going. He can at least count on Tetsutetsu to keep his thoughts where they need to be; not agonizing over how soft Bakugou Katsuki's lips look when he's calling him a headstrong idiot with no battle sense to save his life.

It must have been apparent in his gleaming determination, because after glaring into him for a few extra seconds, Bakugou cedes with a roll of his eyes and a harsh sigh before sending his work and pushing himself up. “Fine. But I'm only going to make sure you keep your damn shit together. You turn into a fucking animal around that brainless troll and we have to do another bust tomorrow. If you get in my way again cause you're hungover I'll fucking fire you this time, I swear.”

“Complete control, boss, cross my heart!” grins Eijirou through his bullshit, knowing from the many times he's heard it before that it's just an empty threat and it would take a lot more than that for Bakugou to kick him out. He's gotten away so far with a lot of stupid mistakes in the past only to receive an hour long scolding at top volume as punishment. He knew his place well, and he used it.

He is definitely going to get in the way tomorrow, because tonight is about forgetting, and that requires too much alcohol to maintain next day coherence.

It would be completely out of character if Bakugou didn't see right through it, shooting a severe snarl of warning along with a “Watch yourself, shitty hair. I mean it.” Eijirou's way that he just bats his eyes innocently at with a feigned, “Nothing to worry about here~” as they power down the office and grab their jackets.

As much as he knew Bakugou, Bakugou knew him. Sometimes, he wondered if his partner knew about his feelings and chose to just ignore them for the sake of professionalism or simply disinterest. It's not like his crush was something he protected with his life, but more something he had just never admitted out loud or acted on too forwardly. If Bakugou wasn't so indifferent to people pining after him-it was his job to trash the endless flow of fan mail, after all-and asked him about it, he wouldn't deny it.

But whether Bakugou had suspicions or not, the question never came up, and when his praises became too wistful, he was treated with a clenched jaw and minimal conversation until they parted ways.

He wouldn't blame him for it, but the thought hurt to entertain regardless. When it came to deciphering Bakugou's anger and understanding his language in battle, Eijirou was a King Explosion Murder expert. On an emotional level, though, he was a complete mystery. Bakugou kept his personal feelings buried and locked up where nobody could see them, and as hard as he tried to get closer than just colleagues, it was always a fruitless venture.

Not even under the influence would his stoicism bend, and although he wanted to see the other sides of the man he adored, a part of him cowered away from digging too deep because he knew that would be the end of his ability to only be Bakugou's friend .

The cab is already waiting when they exit the building, so they waste no time in shuffling into the back and buckling up. Out of the corner of his eye, Eijirou notices the way Bakugou slumps against the window and stares out at the streets boredly, indicating the wall he’s already putting up to keep the energetic pair he was going to be faced with at bay. It bothers him, sure, but it's nothing out of the ordinary and Eijirou knows he'll at least be able to get Bakugou to lighten up after a few drinks.

“To The Ronin, my man!” he cheers with a jagged grin, then turns to the thick blonde spikes facing him and slides his foot over to nudge Bakugou's leg, earning himself a vicious partial snarl. His smile softens now that he can see his face. “Come on, Bakugou. Relax a little, we earned this!”

“Che! The only thing we earned is the satisfaction of those scum being behind bars. This is you shamelessly indulging. Get a grip on yourself and keep your filthy shoes off my pants.” Bakugou turns his face back to the window, and Eijirou feels his lips flatten into a frown.

Was something actually wrong, or was Bakugou just being abrasive by nature?

He decides on the latter for the sake of maintaining his good mood and returns a smirk to his lips, his eyes rolling as he teases, “You're just allergic to having a good time. I'll get a grip when you lighten up.”

“Shaddup, idiot. I don't need your death on my record. “ scolds Bakugou through clenched teeth, and Eijirou snickers cheekily, concluding that everything was fine after all.

Nothing was going to go wrong. Just three manly bros having a night out after a stressful week.

So then why, as he looks over longingly at the closed off body beside him, does he feel so uneasy? Like something is close to the breaking point, and he can't get his hands to close around it.

It will be fine. You'll have Tetsutetsu there to keep things stable. Get a grip, idiot, just another night out. Nothing out of the ordinary. But fuck me if Bakugou's hair doesn't look soft today..

“Eijirouuuu!!! Get your brittle ass up here before I smash your head in!!”

He’s already beaming, barely out of the cab yet with an impatient Bakugou shoving at his back when he snaps his head up to the balcony of the club and sees Tetsutetsu practically hanging off the rails awaiting their arrival.

“Tetsutetsu!!!” he practically sobs from endearment before straightening up from his stumbling caused by his partner and raising his fist. “I’d like to see you try, tin man!! It’s on, now!”

In the presence of one of his closest friends who never fails to lift his spirits perhaps a little too high, Eijirou nearly forgets about Bakugou who’s paying the driver behind him. He’s just about to go running into The Ronin when the back of his jacket is being grabbed and Bakugou is growling quietly, “Get a hold of yourself, moron, you’re causing a damn scene.”

Eijirou blinks in surprise, then arches a quizzical brow and flicks his eyes around with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? Guys get riled up like this all the time at these places?”

“Low-life nobodys, maybe.” He grumbles back, narrow eyes suspiciously surveying the crowd without caring to control his volume, but luckily the men gathered around the entrance smoking are already too intoxicated and shouting too loudly to notice. Bakugou locks eyes with Eijirou, and Eijirou feels his throat tighten at the look he receives. Then, he’s being shoved forward as Bakugou spits, “Whatever. Your fuckin’ funeral. Don’t expect me to be there, cause I warned you.”

He can barely focus on his surroundings as they make their way into the crowded building that reeks of overlapping cologne, B.O, and testosterone, a true man’s world and a place that normally gets Eijirou’s party nerves buzzing out of his skin, unless he’s distracted by the fact that Bakugou was just worried for his fucking safety. He ends up bumping into several large and intimidating figures, but luckily he’s got enough charm that a smile and a shy apology are enough to save his ass. Bakugou on the other hand, who is keeping no less than a one step pace behind his partner, is the one being apologized to even though it’s his shoulders slamming into anyone close enough without remorse.

Eijirou feels like his heart might just stop when Bakugou’s hand flies above his head to grab the wrist of a wasted jackass that was about to mindlessly smash his beer glass on top of it. Splashes of ale rain down above him, and he watches with wide eyes and halted breath as Bakugou digs his fingers into the man’s flesh and says in a low, vicious growl, “Oi, pisshead. You better watch what you’re doing before you cross the wrong person. Oh, hah. Too fuckin late. ”

Time seems to slow for Eijirou, and for a moment, he’s completely stunned. Not only was Bakugou worried for his safety, but he was protecting him. Jumping to his aid while they were working was one thing, but instigating fights for him in a bar filled with belligerent men fueled by liquid courage was practically a death wish for not only their lives, but their careers. Bakugou was not somebody who let quirk use laws hold him back when he was heated up and looking for a fight. If this guy misjudged how terrifying the man grabbing him was, Eijirou feared for the entire bar.

“The fuck you say to me, cockrod?” slurred the man as he spun in his stool and stood, towering above Bakugou, who at twenty five was 190, by about ten centimeters.

As Bakugou grinned and gripped the wrist even tighter and Eijirou saw the man’s fist balling at his side, his shock was shattered and he was in between them in an instant, facing Bakugou with a pleading look and grabbing two fistfuls of his jacket to try and physically shake some sense into him. “Knock it off, Bakugou! You’re going to get us in serious trouble!”

“Who gives a fuck. This scumbag has a thirst for blood, I can tell. Hope he likes the taste of it.” He sneers back, his taunting eyes never breaking from the fuming foe behind Eijirou’s shoulder.

“That’s IT! The fuck out of my way, punk!” Shouts the drunk behind him, and everywhere but the skin exposed of Eijirou’s body hardens in an effort to remain subtle as he’s shoved at roughly, his feet planted firmly and his eyes wild with panic as he watches Bakugou’s other hand begin to ignite and reaches for it with his own, unhardened.

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck this is so bad what do I do ! We can’t use our quirks in public! STOP YOU IDIOT!

Just as Bakugou is about detonate his attack and destroy everything they’ve worked so hard for, the enraged drunk is suddenly being pulled backwards onto the table he was sitting at. A loud slam follows the sounds of shattering glasses and a few shrieks from nearby patrons, and then Eijirou could swear the entire bar went silent. When he looks up and realizes what they’re all smiling at, tears begin to well up in his eyes.

He was no stranger to this bar, it was his favourite in the city, but Bakugou kept him on a short leash to make sure he was always performing at his best. Tetsutetsu on the other hand, was in here nearly four times a week. He had diffused many bar fights here single-handedly, and he had become a force more feared than any bouncer they had. One time, Tetsutetsu was even offered a part time security position, but he politely denied because the only time he came there was to unwind, but he assured them he would dutifully continue to guard the place as long as he was there.

“Tetsutetsuuu!” Eijirou actually sobs this time from the weight of relief and admiration at the brazen manliness, and beside him Bakugou glares and spits at the lost opportunity to express his rage.

“Eji, Bakugou! This lager lout giving you guys a hard time?!” Barks an inflamed Tetsutetsu from above the man, his wild eyes dropping down as he lowers his face inches away and growls, “You wanna act so disgracefully, do it somewhere other than this fine establishment or you’ll have more than just pro heroes to deal with, got it, booze-head?! Now get out! ” To punctuate his point, Tetsutetsu throws the large man onto the ground at the bouncer’s feet and turns to his friends with a proud snort. “Guys like that just piss me the hell off! You two alright?”

“Keh. We were just fine. You didn’t help us at all, I had it handled.” grumbles Bakugou with a sour scowl, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders slumped.

“ You were about to blow up our damn careers, Baka gou! You know you can’t use your quirks outside of permitted combat! Don’t be such a damn hot head all the time!” reprimands Eijirou sharply, stepping forward and smacking his forehead into Bakugou’s to return his provoked snarling.

“You guys are too damn much!” When Tetsutetsu’s hands are slamming down into the middle of their backs with a boisterous laugh, the force is enough to jolt them forward, and oh god their lips fucking brush.

There’s a moment of wide eyed realization shared between them, and before Eijirou can even process what just happened let alone form any response, he’s being shoved roughly onto the bar’s floor by his solar plexus and left there spinning and pained as Bakugou storms off to go find a table.

He lays there for a moment, and although he hasn’t a single thing to drink yet, he feels completely disoriented. His lips tingle, his stomach flips and clenches inside of him while his chest aches from the strong strike and fuck he knows he’s blushing and staring off after Bakugou like a scolded puppy but they practically just kissed and damn he was right about those lips being soft.

“Eji, you okay, dude?!”

His eyes flutter and snap out of his trance to find Tetsutetsu dropping to his side with wide, concerned eyes. “Man, I’m so sorry! That was so uncool, I didn’t think! Agh, I’m a shit wingman when I drink! You think.. You think you’re gonna be okay?”

It takes Eijirou a few moments to gather himself from the recoil of that intensity. It’s true that Tetsutetsu knows about his feelings for Bakugou that stem all the way back to their second year at Yuuei. After a particularly rough night, the alcohol and earnest prying of his brother broke him down and he spilled everything. Now, he was a safe haven for Eijirou. Someone he could vent his feelings on without having to worry about consequences. It helped a lot, to be able to relieve the pressure.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he feels his fingers against his lips, and then he’s smiling. He wasn’t imagining it. For a brief second there, Bakugou was caught off guard and let his vulnerability show. That wasn’t anger behind that shove.

Bakugou felt it, and he ran because that’s just what he does, maybe what he’s been doing, but it’s enough.

When he looks to Tetsutetsu, there’s a fire lit in his red eyes, and he’s grinning fiercely when he grabs his friend’s hand and lets himself be pulled up. “Yeah. I think I’ll be just fine.”

Chapter Text

Bakugou looks as if he’s trying to melt into the wall of the booth when Tetsutetsu and him finally track the evasive man down, his side pressed firmly against it with his chin resting in his hand and his disgruntled gaze burning into the drink menu like he isn’t even seeing it. To neither of their surprise, Bakugou had picked a table farthest away from the main commotion surrounding the bar. A secluded area with an unspoken courtesy of quiet for those who wanted to escape the craziness most came here for.

Even though he comes along, Bakugou isn't a party person. That would require being able to let his guard down and relax; two things the overly-serious pro hero knows nothing about. For Bakugou, there is no such thing as time off and no place is safe enough to get comfortable, including his own apartment.

Eijirou suspects it’s a deep rooted paranoia left behind by the league of Villains they faced several times throughout high-school. He doesn't share the same lingering anxiety, but he does understand it and respects it. He wasn't the one dragged through a portal from a destination that was supposed to be untraceable, after all. Of course that would leave behind some trauma, even if Bakugou refuses to admit that's what it is.

Though, none of that stuff compared to what happened just after their first year of being pros. Bakugou was unstoppable. Rapidly gaining momentum and making a big reputation for himself on his warpath to the top. Eijirou had aided in taking down an infamous gang leader who opposed even the Yakuza. He wasn't alone, it shouldn't have just been him, but Bakugou was always destined to be the center of attention with his foul mouth and flashy quirk.

The incident had been on every news channel broadcasting in Japan. He knows because just seconds after it aired everybody who knew Bakugou and him were calling to ask if he saw what happened. The whole country had been informed of Bakugou Katsuki's carelessness that resulted in his mother fighting for her life after a villain with a bone manipulating quirk targeted her seeking retribution for the fall of their leader.

When he had gotten to the hospital that night, Bakugou Mitsuki was in the E.R. having the majority of her bone structure reconstructed while Katsuki had his father, Masaru, pinned against a wall in their private waiting room. Tears were pouring down his agonized fury as he tore into his father, and from the way Masaru’s cheek was swelling and his glasses were clattered and smashed on the other side of the room, it was clear how his son had greeted him.

From what Eijirou heard, it wasn’t because Masaru had cowered from saving his mother. Instead, it was because when he got home from shopping to find his wife’s body being mangled and broken on the floor of his living room, he embodied his son’s ferocity and did, and that meant Katsuki couldn’t.

Eijirou was thankful for his dull quirk that day, because if he couldn’t harden himself against Bakugou’s explosions, he probably would have been killed when he wrapped his arms around his devastated partner’s chest and forced him off his sobbing, apologizing father. Bakugou didn’t hold anything back when he blasted himself backwards and nearly broke through the wall with Eijirou’s unbreakable back, and it was in his strongest form that he refused to release him until he stopped fighting and just let himself fall apart in his arms over what his arrogance had done to his family.

Mitsuki survived the excruciatingly long procedure of repairing her skeleton. She was in surgery for three days, and then in a medically induced coma for another six to speed up healing. During this time Eijirou had to visit the hospital daily to bring Bakugou, who was refusing to leave for any reason, fresh clothes, food and company that wasn’t wanted and barely acknowledged. It was a difficult time for everyone, but nobody was taking it as hard as Bakugou who numbly dismissed any attempts made at telling him it wasn’t his fault.

When she had finally been cleared to be woken up and regained consciousness, despite the pain she must have been in, she was in high spirits over still having her life. Telling the tale of how her meek, overly polite husband had screamed “Eat my dick, bastard!” as he rubbed his hands together to ignite his sweat and grabbed the villain’s neck with a sizeable explosion to anybody who would listen. Nothing compared to his son’s capabilities, but it was enough to render the villain unconscious long enough for authorities and paramedics to arrive. She required intensive, long-term physiotherapy after the damage that had been done, but she was alive.

However, something in Bakugou died that day, and he was never the same after that one.

On the bright side, he called his mother daily and tried to visited them weekly ever since. Even helped his dad, who he had a begrudging respect for once he stopped being pissed at him for denying him vengeance, come up with a few moves for his particular explosive quirk so he could sleep a little better knowing his mother’s safety wasn’t just riding on luck. His relationship with them, although still disturbing from the outside, was better than it had ever been.

Maybe that was his way of trying to make up for his failure.

“What's with this solitary, Bakugou? The energy here is all wrong for a celebration!” questions Tetsutetsu as they approach, hesitating to sit down and looking back at the buzzing crowds farther in with a longing pout.

“Go on, then. I don't give a crap where you sit. I'm fine right here.” responds Bakugou curtly without even looking up as Tetsutetsu bristles woundedly and cedes to sinking in on the opposite side.

Eijirou sees his chance and takes it. With a whooped, “Here is perfect, bring on the booze!”, he slides smoothly along the leather bench beside Bakugou, intentionally close enough that their knees brush under the table but not so close that their arms have no room to maneuver. He notices it then out of the corners of his eyes as he picks up a menu and gazes at it inquisitively to remain aloof even though he already knows what he wants. The line of tension along Bakugou’s jaw as he decides whether or not he should snap away or lash out against the contact, the strained contemplation in his angular eyes that flee away from his direction, and Eijirou nearly turns his head in disbelief when he notices the tips of his ears darken in colour.

He's blushing..? As if he’s ever witnessed anything more endearing than that.

A smug smirk betrays him, but being perceptive as ever, it doesn’t go unnoticed as Bakugou makes his decision with bared teeth. “That wasn't an invitation, dumbass. Change sides.” Eijirou takes note that their knees are still pressed together, and his smile widens as he leans closer out of spite and teases, “What, and sit next to a loaded Tetsutetsu? That's just asking for trouble. Thought you wanted me to control myself tonight.”

Bakugou has nothing to say that but a hiss through his teeth and a roll of his eyes, attempting to lean away from the intruding body assaulting his personal space only to find he's already pressed against the wall. He shoots a glare his way and goes to voice his discomfort, but he's too busy hailing a server over to notice so he just grinds his elbow into his ribs instead to receive the desired effect of Eijirou jerking his torso away with a grunted laugh. Maybe he doesn’t realize, but with that movement, his knee applies more pressure against Eijirou's, and Eijirou feels his stomach flutter as he resists the urge to press back.

He knows if he goes too far, Bakugou might catch on and shut it down. He can't be too eager when dealing with such an immovable pride.

A busty female server with bright eyes and shoulder length hair arrives, making Tetsutetsu jolt upright at attention and put on his best cool guy face to try and appeal to her. It looks more like he's constipated, though, and Eijirou holds back a chuckle at his expense. He's thankful he's too gay to lose his senses over anything in a skirt as he makes eye contact with her and orders in his enamored friend's stead. “Heya! We'll start with twelve shots of the strongest stuff you guys have. Surprise us! And uh, Bakugou? White sake?”

If it wasn't going to be that, it would have been some type of ale with a low alcohol content. In the many times he's gone drinking with Bakugou, he’s never once seen the blonde get so drunk he lost awareness. He either orders something weak, or spends the whole night sipping the same drink he started with. As much as Eijirou would love to see a wasted Bakugou Katsuki, he appreciates the security that his self-control provides especially when it comes to getting him home.

He lives fairly close, about a thirty minute jaunt from the bar, and despite the many times Eijirou has insisted through slurred giggles he can get there just fine in, Bakugou has never surrendered, making sure he's all the way in his bed before leaving to his own apartment an extra thirty in the opposite direction. All the while berating him for being stupid enough to get so drunk he can barely stand let alone defend himself if an affiliated villain decides to get payback against them. It’s never happened, but Eijirou isn't about to seriously refuse the opportunity of being aided home by his abrasively considerate love interest.

Bakugou gives an affirming grumble, and then the server is departing with a last minute wink in Tetsutetsu's direction and a flirty flip of her hair that drops both his and Eijirou's jaw. No way, that weird ass attempt of a smolder worked for her? Their eyes lock, and then their hands above the table as they trade jagged grins. “Nice going! You gotta get her number now , dude!”

“I knew she was crazy about me! It's only natural, women are helpless against my rugged charm!”

“You lousy ladykiller! Good on ya!”

A degrading snort next to Eijirou breaks up the giddy energy, and then it’s shattered when Bakugou cuffs abruptly, “She’s just trying to get more money out of you. Like anyone would actually fall your ugly mug. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Tetsutetsu gapes for a moment at the uncalled for insults, then his lips twist and he slams his hands down on the table to push himself up so he's towering across from the glaring antagonist. Eijirou sighs, he’s way too sober for this. “The hell?! Coming from you, Mister Never-Been-In-A-Relationship! Just cause you hate love doesn't mean the rest of us do!”

“Shut up! That's a personal choice, and a fucking smart one you brainless wonder!” Bakugou snaps without standing but returning the slam of his fist on the table, making Eijirou flinch at the sound and pale at the raw anger in his voice. Then, his mouth goes dry and his eyes drop ashamedly as Bakugou continues. “That shit is nothing more than a distraction and a weakness! Why do you think most pros are unmarried?! Because they aren't selfish enough to go risking someone else's life if a villain decides to take some leverage!”

“And you aren't confident in your ability to protect them if that should happen?! Or even their ability to defend themselves?! Why deny yourself simple joys in life over a damn hypothetical?!”

“You obnoxious idiot! ” Now Bakugou is standing next to him, and Eijirou has never felt smaller. He can't bring himself to even look at either of them let alone intervene. Despite their ambiguity, he knows exactly who they're both talking about, and it’s now painfully clear that Bakugou had been ignoring his feelings, and that the brush of their lips must have pushed him over the edge finally. Was this his form of rejection? Shouting loud enough for the whole bar to hear and not even directed at him? It was a little harsh, even for Bakugou. “I don’t need the fucking burden of the risk! Being a hero means putting your own needs aside for the safety of others, no matter the price! Or have you seriously learned nothing? ”

He feels rather than sees Bakugou dropping back down to punctuate the end of his point, his legs now closed tightly away from Eijirou's, and there’s an almost unnoticeable sadness in his voice when he mumbles in finality, “It's not about what we want.”

The air leaves Eijirou's lungs at that last statement, his eyes widening like he's just been slapped as they drift over to find Bakugou glaring at the trembling fist in his lap with furrowed brows and clear anguish in his scrunched eyes.

It’s not a rejection, he's scared . The realization sinks in deep, and he digs his fingers into his thigh to stop himself from doing something stupid like confronting him right then and there. He knows if he did, Bakugou would mostly likely leave the bar and text him later that he’s fired for humiliating him. Probably add something about his things already being incinerated so he didn't have to see him again.

He inhales deeply to steady himself and decides he'll do it when they aren't about to get shit faced so he can approach the issue with the delicacy it requires. Then, as it occurs to him how quiet it is, Eijirou lifts his attention to a chastened Tetsutetsu visibly kicking himself for potentially trampling his chances with Bakugou even worse. The pure sincerity of his best friend's regret in addition to the implication of his love not necessarily being unrequited is enough to lift his spirits, so he's smiling assuredly when he kicks Tetsutetsu’s foot and says, “If you two are done your obligatory ball busting, can we get on with the celebrating now?”

“‘Bout damn time. I was just about to blow this shithole.” gruffs Bakugou hotly, but across from him Tetsutetsu clenches his jaw tightly to hold back the moved tears at Eijirou's commendable strength before nodding fiercely and choking out, “You're seriously too fricken’ cool, Eji. Of course we can, I hope you're ready to drink away another salary, cause there's no way in hell you're out drinking me this time or any!”

With that the mood is restored, and once the drinks are delivered all hell breaks loose-on their side of the table, at least. The next hour passes with two more trays of mystery shots and a couple of Jager bombs against Bakugou's nearly turned violent opposition that was only acquiesced by Eijirou's best puppy eyes. A trick he’s learned he can only resort to successfully when Bakugou is almost finished his second guinomi of sake.

It was everything Eijirou was hoping for and then some as he peers through swimming vision at Tetsutetsu struggling to keep the last bomb steady at his mouth, a look on his face like he's either going to hurl or pass out any second. He isn't far off from that, himself, but at this very moment as his empty glass slams off the table and he stands with his fist raised in victory, he feels like he could keep going for hours more. Tetsutetsu curses dramatically, dropping his forehead onto the table with a loud thunk while incoherently chastising himself for the drinks he had before they arrived, then grips the full glass too tight in his stupor. It shatters almost instantly, and as the two catch sight of the bloody mess that is now his unguarded hand, the hammered fools lose all sense and promptly freak the fuck out.

While Tetsutetsu stares at the pieces of glass protruding from his skin in pure horror, Eijirou nearly slaps his own hands down on the shards covering the table as he fights for balance and shouts, “What did you do, you magnificent bastard?! You didn't have to go so far just because you lost!! Holy crap, it's getting everywhere!! Go to the bar and have Yatsu clean you up!! Can you get there on your own, cause I really don’ think I can suppor' your weighn..nnh..” His words slur heavily at the end, his eyes rolling as vertigo washes over him and sends him toppling into the spaced out Bakugou intensely trying to tune them out behind him.

The jolt of his full weight against his side causes the last of his sake spill out over his hand, and he turns his body to snap viciously, “That's fucking it, stupid hair! We're out of he-” His voice catches when Eijirou's head falls against his opened chest, and as the inebriated man just hums contentedly at the warmth and nuzzles against his collarbone like the world has just fallen away around him, Bakugou’s rage deflates into mild annoyance and turns his attention to their wounded companion. “Can you walk like that? I would help you, but Kirishima has decided to be an even bigger pain than you.”

“Y-Yeah.. no. Don't worry about me. I'm..mmgh.” For a second it looks like Tetsutetsu is about to be sick, and Bakugou instinctively shifts in the seat so his back is against the wall, allowing him to pull Eijirou's limp body out of the potential splash zone and higher up on his torso. Suddenly uncomfortable, he makes a strained grunt next to the ear now resting in the crook of his neck as he forces his leg under the sprawled ones of his partner and rests a bent knee against the leather backing of the booth. Then, Tetsutetsu is swallowing down his bile and stumbling off to find himself medical assistance, leaving the two alone for the first time since they arrived.

With his forehead so close to Bakugou's cheek, Eijirou's eyes flutter at the growing heat he feels suddenly radiating against his skin, and he isn't particularly thinking about anything when he leans into it fully and hums at the pleasance it spreads through his chest. He can feel Bakugou's chest raising and falling against his back, and the slightly tingling feeling of his breath on his neck puts a mindless smile on his lips. If he had any brain cells left to talk some sense into him, he might have realized the position he was unintentionally putting his teammate in.

“You really are a selfish moron, you know that. I told you not to get so drunk. Why do you have to do this now? ” Eijirou forces his eyes open with a quizzical hum at the gritted whisper, and he turns his head to find Bakugou glaring off to the side with visibly red cheeks and a solemn pout on those lips he suddenly can’t take his eyes off of. It's breathtakingly beautiful, and as soon as the scowling man makes reluctant eye contact with him, his muddled mind abandons rationality over desire and he moves.

The lips against his don’t respond, but they also don’t move away either. Eijirou suddenly isn't sure if that's a good sign or a very very bad one. He can somehow feel those narrow red eyes burning through his eyelids, and the mixing heat between their faces causes his heart to twist sharply in his chest. When he pulls away, he doesn't meet Bakugou's unreadable scrutiny. Embarrassed and uncertain, his voice is hushed when he hides in his neck and mumbles below his ear, “You.. You knew, didn't you? The whole time? That I was in love with you?”

“Don't. We aren’t doing this. Just shut up for once.” chides Bakugou, and Eijirou can feel him tilting his hips away from the small of his back in an obvious attempt to hide what this is really doing to him. Something shifts inside of him, and with a fed up frown Eijirou flattens his back against the stiffening bulge and slurs back hoarsely as Bakugou digs his fingers into his waist to try and stop him, “Yet you’re doing this? Why..? What are you so afraid of?”

He knows as soon as the word leaves his lips that he fucked up. Implying Bakugou Katsuki is scared of something is like asking him politely to kill you, but his head is too heavy and his heart is pounding too hard to let that stop him even as he feels the infuriated grin stretch shakily against his forehead. “The only thing I’m afraid of is what I’m going to fucking do to you, you persistent jackass.”

Normally that might have made Eijirou flinch away and concede, but with the presence of Bakugou’s erection against his back and his toned body twitching and tightening against him, it just drives his exhilaration forward. He can feel the heat pooling between his own legs, his pants beginning to grow uncomfortably tight as he grinds down past the resisting fingers and drags his lips across Bakugou’s neck while breathing sharply, “And what’s that, Katsuki..? What do you want to do to me? Cause I’ve got nine years of ideas for what I wanna do to you. ”

A part of his brain is screaming for him to stop, to back off and see what he’s doing, but it’s barely a whimper being drowned out by the alcohol and overwhelming need in his system and doesn’t reach where it needs to. When he’s suddenly being shoved out of the booth and onto all fours on the dirty floor, however, he begins to gain some clarity to his own dismay. He watches without lifting his head as Bakugou’s feet stomp beside him, and he can barely see through blurring tears when he hears the toneless, “Get up. I’m taking you home.”

With Tetsutetsu out of commission and Eijirou struggling to stay on his feet while refusing to even look at him, Bakugou takes it upon himself to pay the atrocious bill with the intention of taking half from his partner’s next paycheck, before guiding him out by the back of his jacket. Once they’re passed the doors, however, Eijirou breaks away roughly from his hold and nearly falls over onto the cold pavement as he spins around and faces the deadpanning Bakugou with an agonized glare. “No! You know wha’ Baka gou?! Screw you! You don’ fuckin’ deserve me, anyways! I’m m’mazing, and you suck! I don’ need you, just stay away from me! An’ I’m not coming in to work tomorrow, maybe not e’rver again! So you just do what you do best and do everything alone! ”

He wipes clumsily at the tears that started pouring down his face somewhere through that speech as he turns, pausing to try and slow the violent spinning of his head before stomping hastily in the direction of his home before he can come to his senses and try to take it all back. If he did that, he would lose the edge he had. Now, it was up to Bakugou to work out his issues and decide what was important to him. If it wasn’t him, well then at least he could say he left with his pride in tact.

As his legs give out in the hallway just outside his apartment, however, with his hand digging into his chest and his heart threatening to collapse, he questions his decision through painful heaving sobs. What the everloving fuck did he just do?

Chapter Text

When Eijirou finally begins coming to, it’s nearly three in the afternoon. By the aching in his back that only his cheap couch can cause him, it’s painfully apparent how overboard he went if he couldn't even make it to his bed just ten steps away. Grunting, he lifts his face from the sizable puddle of drool with a grimace and groans at the way his head pounds.

Why he continues to let Tetsutetsu influence him is beyond him, it’s never worth it the next day. He's pretty sure he won this time, though, so at least he has that.

It takes him a while before he can actually get to his feet, nausea hitting him in furious waves that makes him seriously consider just going back to sleep and trying life again tomorrow. As he clicks on the coffee machine and focuses his eyes on the illuminated time, his heart sinks and he hisses loudly.

Fuck. The bust. Bakugou wanted to meet at the office at two for debriefing and final strategizing!

Knowing he's in no shape to work but unwilling to give Bakugou another reason to belittle him for being right, he barrels into his room and changes into fresh clothing as quickly as his sluggish movements will allow before charging into the bathroom to wash his face, fix his crushed apart spikes and brush his teeth. He can always use deodorant and cologne to mask not having a shower, but he can’t be any later than he already is.

He grabs his phone that he apparently neglected to charge considering it’s at fifteen percent and opens his messages as he pours some coffee into a travel mug. Seeing that there's no missed calls or texts from Bakugou, his eyebrows knit into a perturbed frown.

Normally when he over sleeps after a night out drinking he's being woken up to his phone ringing incessantly. He's an hour late now, and Bakugou hasn't even asked where he is. Maybe he realized he didn't need him right away and took pity on him? No, that doesn't sound at all like his demanding boss.

He makes the decision to ask about it when he gets to the office and leaves his apartment hurriedly, getting all the way to the lobby before reality hits him.

Last night… He quit, didn't he?

He got too drunk, advanced on Bakugou like a wild animal in heat, and then fucking quit when he shoved him away and tried to get him home like any respectable person would do in that situation.

It had to be a dream. He wouldn't actually do that, surely. He's hopelessly in love with him, yes, but he's managed to keep it contained without incident for the past...

Suddenly, he feels sick. Tetsutetsu smacked them. Their lips brushed.

For too long Eijirou just stands there between the doors, his fingers gripping his phone so hard that the tips have gone white and he prays for anything. A chance to explain himself even though he wouldn't have the slightest idea where to begin, or even receiving a merciless scolding would be better than the cold silence he’s being treated with. At least then he would know what Bakugou is feeling about it all.

Surely Bakugou understands he was just drunk, right? That he wouldn't actually quit over something so stupid? But it isn't just about that for the proud man who let himself be vulnerable and watched it blow up in his face, and Eijirou knows that as he drops his phone to his side and turns back to the stairwell with his sharp teeth bared in tormented regret.

If he ever had a chance at convincing Bakugou to face his fears and take a leap of faith with him, he destroyed it last night. It’s suddenly a weight too heavy to deal with standing as he sinks down against his front door and hugs his knees tightly. Seeking comfort in the crushing loneliness and loss he feels.

It was all such a blur. He had intended on waiting until he wasn’t off his face and could think . So what had happened? How did he lose control so spectacularly?

Pressing his pounding head for answers, he begins gathering the pieces. He was laying on Bakugou’s chest. He remembers the heat of his face as his feelings betrayed him against his back, the unsatisfying sensation of his unresponsive lips that had warned him to stop what he was doing, and Eijirou buries his hands in the stiff roots of his hair as he relives his relentless defiance. He’s humiliated, disgusted with himself and so ashamed it physically hurts, but he has a feeling it's nothing compared to how Bakugou must feel.

At some point tears began soaking into his pants, only partially from his own broken heart.

Bakugou’s emotions might have been a mystery to him, but experience taught him that subversive to his tough and manly exterior, inside he was sensitive and soft. He was certain he hurt him badly, and he brings his phone up to his face for the seventh time in the past ten minutes to try and force himself to say something. He types out the beginnings of several apologies, erasing each one when they all just seem like hollow excuses and surrenders himself to waiting.

It's not like Bakugou would listen if he didn't want to talk. Trying to force it would be like stomping on a landmine and expecting it not to explode. After the way he departed last night, he would be surprised if the man he loves ever felt like facing him again after he practically spat in his face for putting his honour above his desires. Forgiveness never has been his strong suit.

Eijirou remains there on the floor until his phone alerts him it's at one percent battery and will shut down soon. He doesn't want to move, but in the rare chance that Bakugou comes around his phone needs to be alive. Gingerly, he unfolds his legs that fell asleep a while ago and hobbles across what feels like walking on needles to the charger in his room.

Five minutes later, he realizes he’s still standing over it like a teenager who just had their heartbroken for the first time and mumbles at himself to get it together, annoyed. He turns, deciding he might as well bathe as he reaches up to scratch his head and feels how grimy it really is. Just because it’s Bakugou’s move doesn’t mean he has to put his life on hold waiting for him.

As he passes a framed picture on his dresser of Bakugou and him in their hero costumes grinning proudly over their first take down as pro heroes, he wonders what his life is now if he’s no longer welcome at their agency.

Sure, he could probably join the agency Kaminari, Jirou, Sero and Ashido had formed together. Despite their deviation, the Baku-Squad was still very much united. They were his most dependable friends, never failing to have his back or coming to their aid when they were up against something the two of them alone couldn't handle.

He only wasn't with them because Bakugou had approached him first, and the solo artist refused to follow anything but his own path. Claiming that too many people would not only diminish his light, but would complicate most situations. Kaminari had wanted to join them until Bakugou told him he would rather hire a goldfish cause it was smarter.

Eijirou scolded him harshly about that one, especially after he overheard Kaminari later asking Jirou depressedly if he really was as stupid as everyone said he was. She must have been moved by the sincerity and dropped her cool chick act, because it wasn't too long after that those two became the first of their group to pair up and finally start dating. It took Sero and Ashido a couple of years of working closely together to grow feelings naturally and become attached. They were sweet, a good balance of outwardly and subtly bizarre.

He knew they wouldn't turn him away and he would probably really enjoy working with them, but would it be enough after spending so long at Bakugou’s side? Could he really fight at his best without him there?

Pausing at the doorway of his room, he backtracks for a second to make sure his phone is at full volume and then forces the heavy question away as he goes to run himself a bath. Nothing is set in stone until he hears from Bakugou. If he doesn’t reach out by the end of the week, three days from now, then he would revisit those thoughts. For now, he’ll wait.

The water burns against his skin at first making him hiss sharply through his teeth, but then he’s melting with a long sigh as it washes over his aching body and makes his head feel fuzzy with relief. After a good scrubbing to remove the thick styling gel, grime, and traces of smoke from Bakugou’s explosions after yesterday’s fight, his wet hair falls around his face and he lets himself sink a little further into the comfort of the water as he stares at the tips of his toes with distant eyes. Bakugou must be moving on those villains by now.. He let's them drift over to the door, and for a moment he considers getting out and going after him, if anything to provide him with some support. It was only a group of four, a situation Bakugou could surely handle by himself, but he couldn’t help questioning where his head was after last night, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip and his chest tightening from a quietly building anxiety.

If Bakugou got hurt because he messed with his head, he would never forgive himself. But also he knew that showing up there uninvited and probably unwanted could only make things worse for both of them, so he surrenders to the helplessness of his position and settles to putting his faith in his undefeatable partner. Ex-partner? No, not yet. Don’t go there, yet.

Eijirou stares at his tv with listless eyes through his bangs, pyjama pants curled up to his bare chest on the couch and his chin resting between his knees. He’s been watching the news for the past hour and a half hoping they’ll do a story on Bakugou’s capture and give him some semblance of closure that it all went well. Or that it didn’t, and he needs to rush to a hospital immediately. His phone sits closely beside him, and everytime he taps it to make sure the notification just didn’t go off and he missed the text he’s been waiting for, he mentally kicks himself at his foolishness to mask his painful disappointment.

It’s now nine thirty at night, and he’s emotionally spent. His eyes begin to grow heavy and fall, his hold on his legs weaken as his body tries to relax and he’s just toppling over when he hears Bakugou’s hero name being uttered in the flat tone of a newscaster. He jolts upright with a gasp, his wide eyes fixing on the scowling picture of his partner as they review the story in past tense.

“Just over an hour ago, the well known Explosion Hero: Baksatsuo single handedly infiltrated and apprehended a small handful of villains who had been responsible for twenty three injured, and three fatalities in the past two weeks. Although outnumbered, the ferocious hero with an alarming take down rate managed to complete his bold mission with barely a scratch, and we’re happy to report the villains are currently in the law’s custody and the streets of Musutafu are all the more safe thanks to his efforts. In other news..”

Eijirou feels his eyes fall closed as relief shakes through him fiercely, the tension he hadn't even noticed winding throughout his whole body releasing in an intense shudder, and then they open slowly as sorrow sweeps in almost immediately behind it. Did Bakugou ever really need him, or had he just been convincing himself they were on the same level so he felt useful? The question lingers heavily in his mind, and he nearly laughs at how naive he was to think for a second he had an upper hand.

He glances at his phone once more, the last shreds of his hope falling away as the notification light remains dark, and then gets up with defeated tears stinging at his tired eyes. Bakugou wasn’t going to say anything, was he?

Why would he, that would mean he needed or cared about him enough to bother.

Resigning from his painful thoughts for tonight, his bedroom door is just about closed when a loud string of forceful knocks is echoing through his apartment and making his body jerk in alarm. He freezes, the colour draining from his face and his heart suddenly thumping against his rib cage in rapid apprehension. The second time the knocks hammer against the door, they're more demanding and impatient and Eijirou forces his legs to move.

He pauses when he gets there and gulps, staring at the wood panel and trying to steel himself against what could possibly be out there. The final knock hits the door more like a hefty punch, and after flinching back in startled caution, he lunges for the knob and feels his heart sink at the sight of a fuming Bakugou Katsuki glaring into him immediately.

“Took you long enough. I was about half a second away from blowing your shitty door down.” barks the blonde shortly, and Eijirou gapes like he doesn't believe his eyes.

His lips part and close like he's going to say something, though his mind is a blank slate. He spent the whole day failing to come up with an explanation over text message, and now he was supposed to pull something together out loud?

“B-Bakugou..? I..  Y-You came..? But.. Last night..? And then the bust?” he sputters nervously, internally slapping himself in the face as the blonde arches an unimpressed eyebrow, and somewhere in the back of his head he wonders how Bakugou even got passed the lobby. “I should have been there, b-but.. I didn't know if.. Did it go well?”

“I wasn't going to.” cuts in Bakugou finally, relieving Eijirou of his floundering with a bittersweet edge that makes his jaw snap closed and his lips twist into a wobbly frown as he prepares himself for the worst. Bakugou notices this and huffs out a short sigh, allowing some of the tension to leave his shoulders even though the animosity in his expression and voice remain.

“I had decided to say to fucking hell with you and your revolting overuse of hair gel that makes the office reek like the set of a damn old spice commercial. Yeah, I went to the bust alone like you told me to, and you wouldn't believe how fucking refreshing it was to not have to carry the weight of your brazen foolishness constantly getting in my damn way and making everything more difficult than it has any right to be! I certainly couldn't believe how fucking easy it was!”

Eijirou had dropped his eyes to the floor when Bakugou immediately went for his hair in true to form pettiness that never seemed to sting any less. When his digs grew more personal and degrading, his arms moved to shield his bare torso as the words that weren't totally baseless ripped into him and made him feel raw and too exposed.

Now, his nails are creating deep crescents on the skin of his sides as he bites into his lip and restrains himself from crying or saying something in his own defense. He doesn’t deserve it after what he did, and he doesn’t want to give Bakugou a reason to leave now that’s he’s here. Even if it breaks him, he needs to hear what he really thinks of him.

“And that’s exactly the thing that pisses me off the most about you..”

The drastic change in tone from inclining rage to gritted pain makes his eyes flutter and widen slightly, and his breath catches when he lifts his timid gaze to find a seething Bakugou stepping closer to him so that they’re inches apart in the doorway of his apartment. He considers leaping back but his legs don't respond, then a hand raises towards his face and he instinctively flinches with tightly closed eyes, the half closest hardening in anticipation of an assault. As it instead brushes his naturally set hair aside and trails down the jagged edges of his cheek, the unanticipated tenderness sends a shiver down his spine and he opens his eyes wondering if that's actually still Bakugou.

His chest tightens at the look of turmoil staring into him, and he doesn't even realize a tear had left his eye until Bakugou’s thumb is swiping at it as he growls, “You're nothing but a damn pain in my ass. Jumping in all the time to try and save me as if I need it, or getting too drunk and making a fool out of everyone around you. You’re the fucking bane of my existence, and yet.. and fucking yet. ”

Bakugou lunges forward, pulling him roughly by his face, and his startled gasp is muffled as their lips clash almost painfully. This time it's Eijirou that doesn't respond, his head spinning in attempt to process what the fuck is happening right now.

A second hand wraps around his naked lower back, sealing their hips together as Bakugou's overwhelming assault on his lips continue, and it isn't until he feels the presence of the slightly taller man's need against his thinly covered groin that he starts to understand with a guttural moan and opens his mouth to the hunger of Bakugou's tongue. His eyes roll closed at the feeling of the wet muscle prodding against his own that sends tremors of heat into his stomach and makes his knees feel so weak he has to wrap his arms around Bakugou’s slim waist just remain standing, and then he’s returning his efforts with matched fervor despite the thousands of questions screaming in the back of his head.

The fact that they’re still visible to anyone who has the misfortune of walking into the hallway right now is lost to him as Bakugou’s hand drifts down his back and grabs his ass firmly to grind his erection against the one steadily growing between his own legs, and the breathless moan he feels in his mouth makes him suddenly dizzy.

Although he can’t taste any alcohol and he doesn’t want it to stop, he can’t help but be suspicious of the sudden advancement. Pulling his lips away with a gasp for air, he lifts his glazed eyes to meet Bakugou’s similar state of disheveled want.

He shudders and then pants, “Are.. Are you the one that’s drunk this time? Wha.. I don’t get it. You were just telling me what a shitty partner I am.. And you didn't even say anything to me all day. What happened? Why are you doing this now?”

Bakugou smirks, and it isn’t malicious or scathing. It’s genuinely amused if not a little adoring and incredibly sexy as he pushes Eijirou back into his apartment and breathes, “Shut up. That’s my line, idiot.” The door slams closed, and he melts into the wall he’s pressed against and tangles his fingers in the thick blonde spikes as their lips lock once again with less force and more passion.

Whatever is going through Bakugou’s head, he’ll figure it out later. Right now, the only thing he cares about is making the most of the opportunity to feel and taste every inch of the man his heart and body aches for as he latches his lips onto Bakugou’s neck and the taste of caramel makes him hum in delight. He fucking knew it. As if it wasn’t enough of a clue that whenever they fought, all he could think about were candy apples.

He sucks and licks at the sweet skin appreciatively, then scrapes his pointed teeth down hard enough to leave behind a few shallow lines of broken flesh.

The hissed out moan he receives makes a devilish grin spread against the damage, which he doesn’t try to hide when Bakugou pulls his head back by his hair and fixes him with an attempt at warning that comes off more as erotic demand.

He doesn't think he's ever seen anything hotter, and Eijirou's lips fall apart at the sight with a shaky sigh as he takes a second to drink it in and whispers, “Ohh, I want you.. So bad. Everywhere. ” Then he's grabbing and shoving at Bakugou's jacket as his uncomfortably hard arousal strains and twitches in his pants, a pleased smirk resting on the lips he reattaches to Bakugou's when he receives assistance almost immediately.

He only pulls away long enough for Bakugou to shed his undershirt, and then he's latching onto the finely sculpted torso with an insatiable hunger that's had nine years to develop. His tongue and hands work their way down, tasting and worshiping every groove of muscle like he's only been able to fantasize about, and a breathy snicker slips out when Bakugou moans, “Nn, fuck, Kirishima..” and stumbles so his back is now leaning heavily on the wall for support.

When he reaches the line of thin blonde hair above the hemline of Bakugou's pants, he slides his hands down to grab and feel at the ass that's been the fault behind many of his past mishaps before beginning to grind his face against the thick erection trapped by black jeans. Bakugou sighs encouragement above him and tilts his hips into the pressure, and Eijirou feels saliva pool in his mouth as he hurriedly tugs open the button and drops underwear and pants alike with a fluid, experienced sweep.

Just because he’s been pining over one man since high school didn’t mean Eijirou was out of touch with his needs, and he knew it was the same in Bakugou’s case from the many times he had seen him shuffle into the office with poorly hidden hickies poking out of his collar. He had come to the understanding with himself that as long as he wasn’t willing to air his feelings, he wouldn’t let it bother him and it worked well enough.

His tongue is sliding along the glistening slit of Bakugou’s head the instant his erection springs free, tasting the building precum with an appreciative groan to match the eager hum above him and wrapping his fingers around the base to hold it steady. He's just about to wrap his mouth around the inviting cock when it's abruptly being jerked away.

He blinks, confused, and looks up with a questioning pout to find Bakugou glaring suspiciously at him.

“You.. You know what you're doing, right?”

Eijirou opens his mouth to respond, then closes it as his eyebrows knit together and he searches the question for some ulterior meaning.

Does he know what he's doing? Does Bakugou seriously think he's never sucked a dick before? It’s not like he didn’t know his sexual orientation. As far as he knew, the whole squad did. He didn’t exactly try to keep it a secret around them.

“I.. I don't get it. What are you talking about?”

Bakugou snaps his eyes away and blushes, and Eijirou smirks at how utterly adorable it is. He bats his eyes expectantly as Bakugou's hand gestures flippantly towards his mouth, and he can just barely make out what the abashed man is saying when he mumbles impatiently, “You know. Your fucking.. Your freakish bear trap teeth. I’m not interested in getting blown by Jaws, thanks.”

After a few moments of staring in disbelief, Eijirou slaps his hand over his mouth and laughs hard enough that tears prick at his eyes, awarding himself an indignated punch to the top of his head that only makes it worse even as he winces

“Shut up, asshole! There's nothing about a mouth full of razor blades heading straight for your dick that puts someone at ease! Stop laughing or I'll blow your stupid face off!”

“Okay, okay! Jeez, you didn't have to punch me you kno-ow!” he chokes back through the hand muffling his laughter, breathing deeply to try and get a hold of himself so he doesn't embarrass Bakugou so badly that he leaves.

Once he's gotten himself to the point of quiet snickering, he looks up with a confident grin and says, “Don't worry, Bakugou. This is something I know I'm good at. Trust me, I won't bite your di-ick off.” The laugh at the end that slips out earns him a vicious glare, but finally Bakugou surrenders however reluctantly and allows Eijirou to return to his weakened cock.

He flashes one last teasing grin at the narrow observation focused on him and then moves. His lips sheath the points of his teeth and close around Bakugou's glans, his tongue massaging along his frenulum while his fingers knead and twist along the re-stiffening shaft, and the sound that rumbles out from Bakugou’s stomach makes his own ache in desire.

A hand fists in his hair, and he takes the pulsing member fully into his mouth with a sharp inhale through his nose and a satisfied whimper. To his own delight, it’s thicker than he imagined it would be, and the muscles inside his body clench in greedy anticipation.

The feeling of his own cock twitching and throbbing against the fabric of his pyjama pants--that have no right to still be on--is distracting if not slightly painful, so he wastes no time in using his other hand to push them down his legs and shakes them away before stroking himself in rhythm with the treatment of his mouth. The deeper rooted desire building inside of him is beaten out by a sudden craving to taste everything Bakugou has to offer, and his lips make a sucking pop when he pulls off to catch his breath and peers up at the practically drooling man panting heavily and transfixed by his oral skills.

“Fu-uck, don’t stop !” Bakugou begs even though his legs are trembling and his fingers are digging into the wall to hold himself up. “H-Holy shit you are good at that… Just a little more.. Then I’m going to fuck you till you die for humiliating me last night.”

“O-oh, god.. Seriously isn’t that a little much..? Couldn't you be a little more gentle about it?” Eijirou shudders breathlessly, and he can’t help but laugh even as the salacious promise makes him burn with excitement.

Bakugou bristles at the amusement, the colour of his cheeks darkening as he twists the hand in Eijirou's hair and barks, “Just shut up and keep going before I change my damn mind and leave you here with your hand, you cheeky bastard!”

“Ahh, alright! Jeez..” he cedes with a smirk, not surprised in the slightest that Bakugou is just as vulgar and clamorous even when turned on and finding him all the more intoxicating for it. If he didn't love the thrill of a constant challenge, he wouldn't have fallen in love with him , after all.

He's taking Bakugou back into his mouth in an instant, sinking down and burying his nose in the patch of blonde hair as he meets the demands by beginning to swallow. His throat screams, air flow cutting off completely and making his nails dig into the top of Bakugou's thigh as he fights to hold it.

Bakugou seems to struggle just as much, his leg shaking and buckling against Eijirou's hand as he smacks his head against the wall and nearly wails through loud gasps at the blinding pleasure.  As soon as Eijirou pulls back with a sharp gasp and dives back down to bob and suck heatedly, his own hand stroking rapidly between his legs and bringing him desperately close to the edge, Bakugou makes a high pitched whine and slaps at his head to express his pleading. “F-F uck me, Kiri..! Don’ stop! I'm gonna..! Ahh hhnngh!”

The sudden stinging tension of the fist in his hair makes Eijirou sees stars, and as the cock in his mouth pulsates and covers his tongue in thick, sweet and salty release that he eagerly swallows and sucks for more, he finds his own climax with a nasally whimper. His own climax coats the back of his hand and dribbles down between his strokes, and the fact that it’s Bakugou bringing him to this finally sinks in fully.

He's panting and trembling from the aftershocks when Bakugou finally collapses and slides down the wall in front of him, and for a second Eijirou is scared to look up. As if doing something so simple would shatter whatever this is supposed to be. Was it even anything? Was Bakugou just giving him what he wanted to get him off his back finally?

The pleasant taste lingers on his tongue, coating his throat and making it difficult to swallow anything else, and he doesn't even realize how expressive he's being until Bakugou is poking his chest with his foot and asking bluntly through ragged breaths, “You aren't seriously about cry over a blow job, are you? God, you're worse than fucking Deku. ”

His head snaps away like he was slapped, his face burning as the cold acknowledgment only makes his throat tighten more, and he grabs Bakugou's foot with two hands firmly like it's the only thing that will keep him here. He wants more than that, wants to feel him wrapped around his over sensitive skin and bury his face into his neck to breathe him in, but after the lines he crossed last night he's hesitant to push too far.

“So, what..?” He whimpers when he finally finds his voice, still unable to meet eyes. “Today was.. I didn't know if you were ever going to talk to me again.” His voice cracks, and his fingers press in harder to the foot in his grip as tears sting and fill the corners of his eyes quickly.

His chest aches, he knows he's probably ruining this, but he can't continue unless Bakugou understands.

“I thought you hated me before I could even fully accept that you might actually like me. And when you went and did that bust without me at first I was so scared what might happen, but then you were fine and somehow that made it so much worse cause you don't even need me, do you?! You’ve just been humouring me this whole damn time , haven’t you?!”

He didn't realize his voice was raising until he lifts his head finally and sees Bakugou staring at him with wide eyes and a thinly pressed frown. His own numb lips part in a pained snarl, and he watches as a few of his tears fall onto Bakugou's foot. He releases a turbulent breath, and he would give anything he had for something as simple as a hug.

“Baku.. Katsuki, I.. I love you. I've been in love with you since Yuuei, and I get that you don't do relationships because you’re still beating yourself up over what happened to your mom, but we have something! It’s always been there, and I know you felt it last night, too, so why can’t you just.. Just..! ” He can feel his point getting lost as he wipes at his face with the back of his hand, smearing his own cum with his tears accidentally and hissing as it burns into his eyes.

He whines in embarrassed distress, and he almost wishes Bakugou would just leave and spare him his dignity.

He's about to tell him to when he's suddenly being pulled forward and enveloped by strong arms. Bakugou's chest is warm , and he can feel the increased beating of his heart through the contact of their skin and oh god he never wants to leave.

He only hesitates for a second before turning into the embrace and wrapping his own arms around Bakugou's ribcage with a stifled sob, and he jerks involuntarily as he buries his face into his neck and let's the heat of their naked bodies overwhelm him. Eijirou knows this level of intimacy must be difficult for Bakugou because he can feel the tension raising against him, and that's why he can't bring himself to refrain.

If he's about to be rejected again, he’s going to take as much as he can while he's permitted.

His hands press into Bakugou's relaxing back posessively when he feels his face rest in his hair and hears him breath in the smell, sending shivers of fragile hope through his nerves.

“You know..” Bakugou hums quietly, absently brushing his fingers along Eijirou's tensing side as he holds his breath. “Your hair is a lot less obnoxious like this. I like it. Keep it this way.”

Fucking hell this infuriating prick.

He growls, but it's more like a frustrated whine as he hardens his fingers and digs them into Bakugou's back, forcing down the smirk trying to tug at his lips under his desperate need for validation. “Dammit you're relentless. Leave my hair alone! It's cool and manly and I like it! Why won’t you just take me seriously?”

“Ow shit stop it! I am, you spikey doofus!” grits Bakugou through his pained struggling, and Eijirou can fucking hear the snickering in his grunts as he tries to pry the fingers from his skin.

He sits up and straddles his hips, trapping Bakugou's legs with his own and removing his hands to pin his shoulders against the wall with a fiercely determined pout. Their eyes lock, and he hides his vulnerability with a curl of his lip when Bakugou’s roll in exasperation with a dramatic sigh.

“Kirishima. I'm here, aren't I? Doesn't that make it freaking obvious, or are you really that dense?”

Eijirou opens his mouth to scold Bakugou for the unnecessary insult, but the words fail when he realizes what was really just said. The pressure on Bakugou’s shoulders loosens slightly, and even though he kind of understands, he wants to hear Bakugou say it. Feigning ignorance, he shrugs and says, “I must be, cause you’re a total mystery to me, man.”

It takes every bit of control he has to not let the grin twitching in his facial muscles expose his act, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek when Bakugou groans, “Uggh why me?! ” and intentionally thunks his head on the wall. Eijirou’s chest is buzzing with ecstatic suspense, and he doesn’t even notice when he eagerly shifts and ends up resting his ass over Bakugou’s groin.

The blonde’s face darkens slightly as he tenses underneath him, and he’s pouting when he drops his eyes down his nose and continues stiffly, “I came here because I need you. I didn’t want to, but you just have a way of getting under my damn skin and no matter what I do I can’t get you out of my fucking head. It makes me sick how much I think about you, how much I want to be with you even though I swore to myself I wouldn’t make that mistake, and you’re so reckless all the time I’m gonna have a fucking aneurysm one of these days from worrying about you! I don’t know if I can keep saving your stubborn ass forever, and if something happens… ”

Eijirou’s chest clenches so tightly his teeth grind, his restrained excitement dissolving into despair as Bakugou’s voice goes hushed and he watches those captivating red eyes fill with pained fear before closing tightly, drawn eyebrows visibly trembling. Calloused hands grip his forearms tightly, and it’s a neediness he’s never witnessed from the emotionally constipated brute that has his heart in a vice.

It’s so real, so raw and unshielded and finally Eijirou understands.

He moves wordlessly, stretching up and pressing his lips to the underside of Bakugou’s clamped jaw while his hands reach to slide up his neck and cup the sides of his face, pulling the emotional anguish down to confront him. With a tremouring exhale, he tips his forehead against Bakugou’s and looks deep in his eyes as he begins quietly but assuredly, “If something happens, then at least you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life wondering what if. I’m right here, Bakugou, and I’m not going anywhere. I love you, and if you feel even remotely the same way about me, don’t let your fear control you.”

“Us being together won’t change the risk we face everyday as heroes. It’ll only change what we get to come home to at the end of it all. If you’d rather an empty apartment, I can take that and I’ll back off. But if there’s even a small part of you that wishes I was a part of it, then please. Take the risk with me, and I promise I’ll do my best not to burden you too heavily with my stupidity. Or my offensive hair gel..”

He offers a small timorous smirk, but it doesn’t reach his pleading eyes as he searches Bakugou’s intensely while his thumb gently strokes his soft cheek. He watches pain turn to hope, hope turn to doubt, and then doubt turn to tear-filled adoration, and before Bakugou can say anything he tips his chin and catches his lips in an overpowering expression of how much he wants this.

Bakugou’s lips tremble against his, his powerful hands spreading out against his chest, and for a second Eijirou thinks he’s going to push him away and run. Then, Bakugou is releasing a shaky sob into his mouth and his arms are flying around his back to pull their bare chests together as he returns the kiss with blinding acceptance.

Their tongues tangle heatedly, their bodies rocking against each other and hands feeling and grabbing at everything desperately as they surrender themselves to the rigorous wave of their pent up feelings finally being unleashed.

Eijirou gasps and buries his face into Bakugou’s neck when he’s suddenly made aware of the way he’s sitting by the prodding presence of the erection against his entrance, and he whimpers below Bakugou’s ear as he arches his back and spreads himself wider along the length with his own arousal twitching for attention against the other man’s abs. He hears and feels Bakugou sigh jerkily at the invitation, his head lolling over to rest against Eijirou’s as he grabs both sides of the ass around him and works them in circular unison of the rhythmic massaging of his cock .

They pant heavily together, although Eijirou is making high-pitched whines and moans at the building need for contact deeper inside of him that screams everytime he feels the thick tip press in a little harder before sliding away, and his blush makes its way to the back of his neck when he begs, “K-Katsuki.. Nnh.. Please. I need.. I need more. I need you inside of me..!”

Bakugou must have been waiting for that, because as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s being jerked up onto his widely spread knees by his ass. He grabs Bakugou’s shoulders for support with a gasp, and his eyes snap down in alarmed question when he feels the man wrap his arms around his thighs and shift underneath him.

His eyes blow wide, his mouth opening in immediate objection that just comes out as an involuntary squeal as he’s lifted like a child and marched to the more comfortable confines of his bedroom. His face is burning brightly in both embarrassment and wonderment at how easy Bakugou makes it seem to support his weight considering he doesn’t weigh much less than him, and as his heart throbs with devotion and his head spins in delirium, he curls into the straining torso with a stupid grin plastered on his lips.

It was okay, even if it was a little emasculating, because Bakugou was his now, wasn’t he? Anything could be forgiven as long as Katsuki loved him, too.

“Wow, Bakugou, who knew you were such a romantic? I’m actually swooning up here!” He teases as Bakugou kicks open his door, and his breathy laughs turns into a yelp when he receives a harsh smack on his ass in response before being dropped gracelessly onto his bed.

He pouts even though the stinging on his behind returns his arousal in full swing, and when he props himself up on his elbows and shakes the hair from his eyes to find Bakugou approaching briskly with a bottle of lube and a condom in his hand, he bites down on his lip to silence the whine in his throat.

Does every guy naturally keep those things beside their bed? He really was simple, wasn’t he?

“You didn’t forget what I promised earlier, did you?” Bakugou purrs, and Eijirou feels himself shrink towards the sheets, his eyes wide and lips parted in raptured intimidation. Bakugou grins with wild eyes, and Eijirou shivers and feels his toes curl as his legs are raised and placed on solid shoulders.

How can someone be so terrifying and sexy at the same time?

“Ready to get fucked to death, babe ?”

The breath he didn’t know he was holding breaks free in a gut wrenching groan, his whole body jerking as Bakugou’s already slicked finger is suddenly thrusting inside of him.

His back arches off the bed and his head falls back as the single digit prods and twists his mind to a muddled mess, and a dizzy smile pulls across his lips as he says through laboured breaths, “Don’t.. Don’t you dare hold back..”

“You’re going to regret that.” snarls Bakugou viciously, and another finger pushes inside next to the first that’s curling and reaching for his prostate.

Despite the chilling edge to his voice, Bakugou’s consideration is unmissable as he observes his partner closely with focused eyes and works him loose efficiently, and it’s almost too much for Eijirou to handle. The sensation of being stretched mixed with the liquid hot pleasure of his g-spot suddenly being hammered against is enough to make his arms give out with a strangled noise.

His hands fly to fist in the sheets tightly as he becomes wracked with overwhelming stimulation, his hips rolling desperately into the thrusting fingers to try and send them deeper when it's no longer enough. Clouded eyes flutter open in half-lidded ecstasy and fix on his.. His what? Partner? Lover? Boyfriend ? Were they even going to use labels after this?

They fix down on man between his legs, and the concentrated scowl he sees staring at his own steadily scissoring and plunging work tugs roughly at his heart and makes an ardor grin stretch across his dry lips.

“Baku.. Fuck, Katsu.. nnghh.. please. I'm ready. I want it so bad, please.”

Bakugou raises his eyes and licks his lips with an affirming nod, and he gives Eijirou's prostate one last tormenting flick before withdrawing his fingers and making Eijirou whimper at the emptiness. Precum has started leaking towards his belly button from the uplifted position of his body, and he stares in a love-struck daze as Bakugou tears open the package and sucks on his lip as he rolls the condom on and gives himself a few quick pumps. He reaches for the lube, applying a good dollop to himself, and Eijirou hums gratefully as he wipes the excess on his entrance before shifting and lining up.

“Bakugou..?” he asks abruptly, wanting to see those red eyes looking at him as his emotions spill over in the face of being entered by the person he holds in even higher regard than the hero he draws inspiration from; Crimson Riot.

Bakugou grunts in response, his eyes narrowing in impatient hunger at the sight of his cock pressing into the ring of muscle he’s probably desperate for because he doesn't pause and he doesn't look.

The thick tip slides into him with little resistance, and Eijirou makes an almost distressed sound and hikes his knees together to trap Bakugou's face and take his attention by force before he can stretch him any further.

“ Katsuki! ”

“ What?!” he snaps, darting his fuming eyes up finally to reveal his frustration at the need to stop when he's only just begun. When he's met with something that looks like panic, his anger falters and he asks again more sincerely with an apologetic frown, “What is it? Does it hurt?”

Warmth floods his chest when he's given what he wants, and finally he relaxes with a sigh and a pleased smile. Now he was ready.

“No, it doesn’t. I just.. Really love your eyes. I love you.”

What Eijirou had expected, as he prepares to activate his quirk at the drop of a dime despite his enamored gaze, was for Bakugou to get flustered and lash out violently like he's done at so many other smaller scale compliments. What he didn't expect was the quiet, almost pained awe that was suddenly looking down at him, and his heart skips as Bakugou’s lips part with a soft blush that makes the most aggressive man he's ever known look gentle.

What he wouldn't give to hear what was going through his head.

Words fail him, and Eijirou nearly breaks their uncomfortably shallow connection when it looks like Bakugou might cry, cursing himself internally for dropping something so heavy on him too soon. The urge is extinguished when, with two hands wrapped around his lower back to keep it arched, Bakugou leans forward and he's filled completely, finally, and his eyes roll back against his will with a low moan at how good it feels.

Bakugou pauses at the deepest point and shrugs away the twitching legs on his shoulders that fall unceremoniously with a dull thup, then leans down above Eijirou so their bodies are barely brushing.

He feels soft blonde spikes brush against his throat as the heat of Bakugou's face presses into his neck, feels strong arms push under his back and crush against his sides, and as Bakugou retracts his hips and then pushes back inside him slowly, he hears next to his ear in a hushed, shaky breath, “I'm the one that isn't getting out of this alive, aren't I..?”

Eijirou wraps his hands around the broad back above him with a pleading whimper at the undemanding torture inside of him, his legs subconsciously spreading wider and his hips canting to try and increase the pace. He shudders at the words and nods breathlessly in agreement, unable to form words through his mind-numbing desperation. A smile spreads across the skin of his neck, and Eijirou tries to imagine it in his head but fails. Has he ever seen Bakugou smiling the way he is now? It must be stunning.

“Hah.. Then fuck it. I love you too, dummy. And that scares the shit out of me, but you clearly aren't gonna stop chasing my fucked up ass anytime soon, so fine. I'm done running. You better be ready for a wild fucking ride, Kirishima, cause it doesn't get any easier with me.”

With that, Bakugou’s hips slam into Eijirou, pulls back halfway and then returns harder, and Eijirou swears his life flashes before his eyes as he digs his nails into Bakugou's skin and wails in shameless bliss.

If he was capable of responding, he would have told Bakugou that he wouldn't be satisfied with anything else. That he’s never once thought about jumping ship through all the years of fighting each other while fighting others, the endless bickering over the smallest things, the moments of genuine closeness they shared during hard times like when Eijirou had found out Crimson passed away, the countless ways they've put their own safety at risk to save the other, and all the years of watching each other grow and build one another up. He loved all of it, and as Bakugou traps his lips in a fierce kiss and rocks into him with escalating force, he couldn't be more thrilled for this next chapter in their lives.

“O-Oi, pillow princess.. Comfy down there?” pants Bakugou when the strain of holding himself up becomes too much, his curled hands now planted next to Eijirou's head to aid in the progressively sloppier motions of his thrusts, and he's smiling. It's a face of pure bliss and adoration, more gorgeous than he could have imagined, and it's all Eijirou needs to galvanize him into shoving Bakugou over onto his back next to him before rolling his body to follow and throw his leg over to straddle him.

The change of positions leaves him empty and wanting and just a little dizzy, but he wastes no time in reaching between his legs to guide the cock to his swollen entrance and sinks back down on it with a relieved moan. His hands find Bakugou's chest to steady himself, and Bakugou's hand finds his cock and begins stroking it in opposing rhythm to his eager bouncing. When Eijirou peers down at the dazed lovestruck-does even realize what he looks like?-grin staring at him, he feels his climax approaching at blinding speeds.

“O-oh god, Katsuki..! I-I can't..! I'm so close!” he practically sobs, pleasure attacking him mercilessly from all angles.

“Ahhh.. me too! Fuck , Eijirou, harder! Go harder!” Bakugou begs mindlessly, his eyes rolling closed as he chases his orgasm and bucks furiously into the tight heat, and Eijirou just can’t resist.

In order to make sure he doesn't maim Bakugou's dick by accident, he’s conscious to leave his pelvic region out of his shenanigans as he activates his quirk throughout his body and moans through his mirth, “H-How's this..? Nnnh.. Haaahh! Hard enough, or should I go hh.. Harder? I can go much harder.. Ka-atsu.. ahh..!”

Bakugou flashes him a severely unamused glare, his lip twitching into a murderous grin, and Eijirou's merriment is shattered into horror when he feels the hand around his dick heat up. “If you wanna be cute then I get to play, too, fuckhead. Don't test me.”

“Okay, okay! Message received!” he shrieks in panicked surrender, his body returning back to normal, and he's never felt happier-Bakugou just called him cute ! He's cute !-as he does as he's told obediently and ups the intensity of his movements.

Bakugou's rancor is forgotten in an instant with a guttural moan, and it doesn't take much longer before they're crashing into their climaxes together so loudly he’s certain his neighbors are going to avoid him for a few weeks. Somewhere during his blinding orgasm, he hears rapid crackling and sizzling against fabric, but his brain is too preoccupied to worry about his bed even as the smell of smoke and caramel permeates the room.

Though, it would be really awkward and problematic if this ended in a fire..

Eijirou’s body jerks and convulses when he begins to feel overstimulated and Bakugou doesn't stop, his moans turning to gasping sobs, and his head is spinning as he keels forward to put an end to it and falls onto his chest, a quiet grunt escaping him as the movement extracts the softening cock from his body.

It's with a silent appreciation to himself for his laziness that he doesn't have to move in order for Bakugou to reach the box of tissues just an arms length away. He manages to hold up his body just long enough for him to shed his condom and wipe away his semen from their stomachs, and he's still trembling and out of breath as he nuzzles into the delicious smell coming from Bakugou's glistening skin and let's himself relax in complete satisfaction that stems much deeper than sexual release.

Not only did he just have sex with Bakugou Fucking Katsuki; the sexiest, manliest, most amazing man he's ever known personally, he was loved by him. After years of just being able to dream about it, finally he was living it.

Why the fuck hadn't he confessed earlier?

His head is heavy from fatigue, and he doesn’t even try to keep his eyes open as the warmth of their bodies washes over him. As he feels hands skate across his back tenderly along with the light pressure of Bakugou’s cheek in his hair, he wonders dimly how long he would let him stay like this. If it were up to him, he would stay here forever.

Time passes by slowly, and after a while once the position becomes unpleasant for both of them, Eijirou slides onto the bed on his side with his arm flopped on Bakugou’s abdomen, fingers drawing little hearts around his nipple and his serene smile resting on his sternum as he drifts asleep to the sound of his heart beating against his ear. Their legs are tangled carelessly, and nothing else in the world matters. At least not right now, and not to him.

But only not to him.

“So.. What happens now?” asks Bakugou hesitantly, growing uncomfortable with the intimacy he’s always denied his past lovers and himself, but is willing to endure for the precious person in his arms.

Eijirou hums in distant question, his eyes rolling but not opening as he's roused from the peaceful sleep he was sinking into.

Bakugou tenses slightly and looks away with a tight-lipped frown and a blush raising to his cheeks. It was so sickeningly adorable he didn’t know if he wanted to punch Eijirou or kiss him. When he peeks his eyes back to see if Eijirou was paying attention yet and instead sees closed eyes, parted lips and a trail of fucking drool heading for his skin fat fucking chance!! , he twists the skin of Eijirou's side tightly and snaps, “Over your dead body! Don’t you dare drool on me, you fuck!”

Eijirou’s eyes snap open with a loud yelp, his body jerking and his side going hard as he curls tighter around Bakugou's and looks up with a scorned glare, his voice equally as sharp, “I wasn't drooling and don't pinch me! I could hear you, I was just resting my eyes!”

“Bull shit! I saw it! You were totally out of it!” he seethes back, anger inclining. “If you heard me then what did I say?!”

His mouth opens in rebuke, then snaps shut in a bitter grin when nothing comes to mind. He knew Bakugou had spoken, he thought he heard it, but nothing sunk in. “Damn, you got me there.. What did you say?”

“I said get off me so I can go home, scum! This is done!”

It’s nothing more than automatic pettiness. He doesn't make any attempt to move, he doesn't actually want to, and the way Eijirou's annoyance drops in an instant is a satisfying win.

That is, until it turns into harrowed searching for where he went wrong.

“You.. You're leaving?” he barely whispers in fear of the answer, his fingers digging into Bakugou's chest, and he isn't looking at him anymore.

It made sense though, didn't it? After you fuck someone you typically leave. He knows he never stuck around long, but that was only because they weren't Bakugou. Perhaps he was too quick to assuming it would be the same for him.

Bakugou frowns at what he's done, and in way of apology without bruising his ego he pries the hand off his chest and brings it to his lips. Peppering the back of it with little kisses, he’s pleased to see Eijirou looking at him again hopefully, though he's suddenly unsure of himself. It was so unlike him. Where was it coming from?

“No. Well, I don't know? That depends, I guess.”

Spirits lifting, Eijirou adjusts so he's resting on his elbow at eye level with Bakugou. His heart is flipping in his chest at the small gesture, and he's almost too hopeful when he asks, “On what..?”

He knew this talk would come eventually. He just never expected it to be Bakugou pressing for confirmation. A lot had happened he wasn't expecting.

Bakugou searches himself for the answer and Eijirou twines their fingers together and places it over his heart, waiting patiently because he knows this can't be easy for him. Finally, Bakugou meets his eyes and he’s blushing from the unsettling amount of emotion he feels when he points at their hands with his nose and grumbles, “You know.. Whatever this shit is. Cause fuck if I have any idea. I still can't believe I'm even here. Seriously, how are you doing this to me?”

He doesn't hold back his smile, squeezing the hand in his and leaning forward to tip his forehead against Bakugou's. He can feel the heat radiating off his face from here, and he feels so at ease when he shrugs and says, “It's whatever you want it to be, Bakugou. It doesn't have to have a name. I'm yours, if you want to be mine. We can figure out the rest along the way.”

It's so simple and non-threatening that Bakugou, despite his aversion to getting attached to anyone, can't find any more reasons to be reluctant or non-receptive of the unshakable conviction and love presented to him. If they didn't live within the restrictions of titles for what they had, then there wouldn't be as much risk of a villain targeting Eijirou just to get to him.

Still, he knew better than anyone that nothing was sacred when it came to the motives of evil and although he was famous for blasting head first into danger without any regard for his own safety, Eijirou's was a completely different matter to him. Things would have to change. Measures will need to be taken to ensure nothing happens, and it’s clear he isn’t going to take no for an answer as he leans back into the pillows and fixes Eijirou with a demanding gaze.

“Alright, deal. I can live with that. Though, if we’re gonna do this, then you’re moving in with me. One, your apartment is a shithole and I’m pretty sure you live with crackheads. Two, I barely sleep as it is with you being here alone as just my partner. Too many people know you’re associated with me, and I doubt you’re perceptive enough to make sure your address is kept off record. I know mine is, and well, my condo is basically a palace. Call up the shitsquad for some extra help if you need it, but I want this done by the end of next week. Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

Despite the certainty in his words, Eijirou is still searching his face for signs of humor when Bakugou stops talking and just stares at him expectantly, because there's no way he could be serious, is there? In all the years of them working together, he could count on his hands how many times Bakugou had let him into his condo and now he was inviting, no, telling him to move in with him.

The idea of waking up every morning to Bakugou's face was something he had spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about, and it would be a dream come true if it wasn't so out of nowhere and sudden. Bakugou was so reclusive by nature, he hadn't even considered this coming up for years in the future when he gained the courage to approach him on taking the next step, yet here it was. Not as a stepping stone, but a prerequisite.

Did he actually wake up, or was he still sleeping right now?

His gawking begins to grate on Bakugou's patience, and when a blonde eyebrow arches at him insisting a response and he gets a harsh “ Well ?” snapped at him, his eyes widen incredulously and he says in airy disbelief, “Holy shit, you're serious. S-Sorry, I just.. did not see this coming from you. I mean, I know said that stuff about the empty apartment, but I didn't think you'd take it that seriously. I'm a little stunned..”

Wasn't that the understatement of the year.

Bakugou retorts with a disgusted scoff and rolls his eyes, darting them away as he rips his hand from Eijirou's chest and crosses his arms over his own, pouting.

“Idiot! I'm not proposing we live like a fucking married couple! I have a spare room, sleep in there if it's too weird for you. Or just fucking sleep in there anyways cause I need somewhere to escape your bullshit.”

His eyes light up at that, and he's grinning when he perks up and asks, “Wait, does that mean I can come back to the office?”

He receives a look like he just slapped Bakugou in the face, and then it's twisting into miffed rage. “That's all you heard from this?! Do you actually want to die?!”

“That’s a yes, then!” Eijirou laughs, his cheeks heating up at the tingling warmth of joy he feels, and he giddily ignores the vicious growling next to his face when he lunges in to wrap his arms around Bakugou and cover everywhere from his cheek to his collarbone in grateful kisses.

He can feel Bakugou trembling with fury, can hear the crackling from his hands at the urge to blast his face away and he wouldn't even stop if he did. Unless Bakugou really wanted to break him, his quirk was a perfect counter to his explosive impacts, and because of that he's never feared Bakugou's wrath.

As he beams into his partner’s skin and grips him tighter, he wonders if that had anything to do with why he loved him, too.

Eijirou hums happily, stupidly in love with the man trying not to murder him and brimming with excitement at the very real prospect of this being his constant

“You never stop surprising me, Bakugou. Yeah. I'll move in with you. I’d do anything for you, even if you're batshit crazy. I love you.”

Bakugou’s rage deflates at that, his building explosions tapering off and his rigidity loosening. He's silent for a moment, knowing he's going regret this because he can already feel how much it's changing him, but also finding that he too is excited about it. Even though he's the main source of most of his stress and anxiety, Eijirou has a way of breaking through his sturdily constructed walls and putting his mind at ease. To his own surprise, he was looking forward to having his presence in the solitary confinement of his home where he most often dwelled on his insecurities and past traumas.

Swayed by his words, Bakugou runs his hand through the back of Eijirou's thick, naturally set hair, feeling the weight of it and wondering exactly how much product this guy goes through to keep it styled the way he does, and then pulls his head back by his forehead so he's facing him.

Something tugs roughly in Eijirou's chest at the way Bakugou's sharp yet soft eyes drift around his features and see straight through him, and he can see a million conflicting thoughts flashing through them as he's analyzed closely.

Uncertainty and faith. Irritation and adoration. Fear and courage. Denial and acceptance. One emotion stands out above the rest though, as Bakugou leans in until his lips are just brushing Eijirou's smile and says earnestly, “You too, dipshit. I love you, too.”

Their lips meet, tongues caressing in slow savouring of what they've created here tonight, and they barely separate until their heads grow too heavy with fatigue to continue. Too exhausted and unwilling to find the motivation to leave, Bakugou falls asleep easier than he has in years with a quietly snoring Eijirou on his chest, and for the first time since his first year at Yuuei, he doesn't wake up in the middle of the night plagued with nightmares.

Instead, he dreams of what his life will be like now that he's given in to everything he wanted it to be.