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vividlybnha · 6 years ago

Text

fighting a loosing battle

@krbkweek2k19 Day 1 (April 14)

Dance/Suits/Music

Warnings: Bakugou is a love sick idiot and Kirishima wins.

Word Count: 1995

Author’s Note: Not gonna lie, I got really carried away writing this. Was gonna end it before it hit 1k but here we are. I love these idiots too much for my heart to handle.

Bakugou doesn’t want to admit it but he’s lost. Totally and utterly lost. He knows when he can hear the chaotic sounds from behind the apartment door, the mixture of music and pots clanging together. But it’s not his fault that he lost. It’s not like Bakugou asked for another villain to show up right before he had to clock out. Yet nonetheless, the noise continues and Bakugou can feel the dread fill him. He can already hear the teasing.

Opening the door makes the pain in his palms tingle, the barely there burning of his skin and Bakugou can’t help but hiss. At least he’s home right? He doesn’t have to go all out on another villain or write another report, he gets to sit down and lay back.

When he opens the door Kirishima isn’t standing there, ready to get his reward for winning their race, which is suspicious because on the rare times that he does win he starts gloating as soon as the door creaks open. He sees the mess of his shoes pilled up against the side of the hallway, mud tracing the bottom. Yeah, Kirishima is definitely home. The music blares louder, soft lyrics smoothing into the sweet sounds of the piano (so different from the loud rock music).

Pulling off the sweaty T-shirt Bakugou can feel his muscles stretching and straining. A feeling he would have appreciated in his younger days, an acknowledgment that he did a good job with training but now it’s the telltale signs that the next few days he’ll have to go a bit easier if he wants to be able to sleep without the tingling pains. Pulling off his socks makes his thighs strain and all Bakugou wants is Kirishima’s arms wrapped around his waist, his fingers delving into his skin, massaging sweet kisses into neck welcoming him home. But that bastard still hasn’t greeted him yet.

He tries to keep quiet as he makes his way to the kitchen, fixated on scaring him as a form of revenge. Which is so funny to Bakugou that despite the fact that they are both pro heroes that fight incredibly dangerous villains that he will still squeak when Bakugou surprises him. He presses himself closer to the wall, grin pulling at his lips. Oh, this one is going to be good. Bakugou takes a quick turn with palms up ready for tickling but stops quickly upon seeing him.

The evening sun presses golden rays into the tiles of their floor, cascading it as an orange sea. It already makes the scene that of a romance movie and then he sees Kirishima. Hair lowly swaying across his shoulders, his sweetly scarred arms brought to his chest as he twirls in lazy circles across the kitchen floor. He looks so soft in the orange light, smiling and singing along to the music. He can see the food bubbling over, it’ll probably burn if they don’t get to it but Bakugou can’t bring himself to stop the scene from playing on. Kirishima dips into another twirl and he giggles. The idiot actually giggles, like something is funny and Bakugou can feel his heart breaking with it. He brushes the hair out of his eyes before dramatically posing to a quick strike of the guitar, one hand high in the air and the other bringing the spoon to his lips as he mouths the words. Bakugou can’t stop the chuckle at his idiot husband.

Kirishima, of course, as always screams and drops his spoon. Yet the heartfeltness of the scene doesn’t change. Bakugou smiles over Kiirishima’s incoherent yelling of “When did you get here?” and “How long have you been standing there?” and walks over to him following the gentle sways of the music.

“Hey to you to Idiot. You looked so cute dancing I couldn’t help but watch.” Bakugou slowly wraps his aching arms around Kirishima’s waist, ignoring the soreness in favor of the warmth of his skin. He presses impossibly close, attempting to steal his heat, lips pressing gently to Kirishima's neck. He kisses all the way up until he finds Kirishima’s lips again, which are already curled into their usual grin.

“You’re a jerk.” He dips closer for another kiss, soft and sweet. “And a loser, you didn’t think I’d forget did you?” Kirishima’s head dips back in a laugh and Bakugou has to pull his waist closer because he leans so far back he thinks he might fall. He doesn’t but recoils from his laughter and smushes Bakugou’s face in his hands. Bakugou grunts and glares at him.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do with this win. What is my sweet oh sweet reward going to be?”

Bakugou pulls his face from Kirishima’s soft hands. Despite wanting to nuzzle closer. Kirishima’s hands despite the years of work as a pro hasn’t calloused like Bakugou’s, they are soft and warm and no matter how many times that Kirishima will touch him his hands are always welcomed and loved.

“Maybe it can be me saving dinner and not letting it burn?”

“Oh fuck.”

Kirishima pulls away from Bakugou and grabs another spoon from the cupboard, stirring the already burnt meal. Bakugou leans against the counter, cracking his knuckles against his jaw as he watches.

“I’m not hearing a thank you. I just saved our dinner.” He grumbles at when Kirishima pushes his face away from him and laughs, “Your not getting one. I may not make food like you can but if you had gotten home earlier then maybe it would be different. Be happy I didn’t order sushi.” So he’s gonna pull this card, as always. Bakugou ignores it this time in favor of wrapping around Kirishima from behind, nuzzling as close as he can.

“You’re clingy today.” It comes out more like a question than a statement and Bakugou leans just away enough so he isn’t muffled by Kirishima’s throat. “Missed you.” If he was younger he’d be burning with embarrassment, probably angrily signing those words off but he doesn’t because for the years they’ve been together its always the same feeling when he comes home. It’s always the same smile he comes home to. Yet he can feel the faint anger when Kirishima laughs though. It’s not funny, he misses him, he always does.

Kirishima’s helplessly soft fingers find their way to his cheek, holding him close while he kisses his cheeks.

Bakugou can’t help but love the times like this. Where he gets to hold Kirishima so close, smell the lavender in his shampoo, the dents of scares that line his skin. Bakugou can’t stop himself from pressing soft, knowing kisses into the manly scars.

“Love you.” He says it so softly he almost hopes that Kirishima doesn’t hear. That the words just softly drift in the air until they disappear but one of Kirishima’s hand grapples onto his and he’s smiling.

Kirishima clumsily places the top over the pot, moving it off the now gone fire and turns to face Bakugou. Usually, now he takes the chance to ramble on about his day, the stupid things he saw, his thoughts but today he doesn’t. Today he takes Bakugou’s hands in his and sways to the music.

He can still feel the faint straining of his muscles as he moves to the music, twirling in small circles to the piano chords. But he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t want to. He wants to hold Kirishima as close as he can and simply dance to the music. He can’t even remember the last time they danced together, under all the chaoticness of adult life they usually end up passed out on the bed endlessly mumbling over their days and sassily drawn out remarks.

Bakugou draws Kirishima closer with another step. This is the closest he will ever come to true peace, to true love and happiness. Right here in Kirishima's soft arms, his warm body pressed close to him as he whispers the lyrics to a song Bakugou doesn’t care to hear.

He wants to tell Kirishima all about his day. About how much he missed him between reports, how much he wanted to text him about the simple things. He wants to tell him just how much he loves it when he holds him so closely, how much he loves just being near him. But his words as always get caught in his throat and the only thing he can do is hold Kirishima's hand tighter. As tight as he can.

They stay there for an impossibly long time. So long that the orange sunbeams turn dark and the food goes cold. Kirishima is the one that finally pulls away, pulling Bakugou from his hazy half sleep state. Bakugou only allows him to because he knows they need sleep and food and they probably don’t need to stand in the kitchen for hours on end. Or at least that's what he tells himself because if it was up to him they’d never leave this moment.

Kirishima once again takes Bakugou’s face into his delicate hands and kisses him fully. Barely open lips pressing together. Bakugou can’t help his hands from roaming, pulling Kirishima’s shirt adjacent to him. Anything to have him closer, anything to just feel him there. He grunts angrily when Kirishima pulls away, leaning closer for more. Wanting to feel his lips litter his body with love.

“‘M hungry.” He says between kisses. Bakugou is too, he can feel his stomach grumble with the feeling. He keeps the thought of, ‘well I’m hungry for you’ well in the back of his brain.

“The foods probably cold by now.” It is, it most definitely is. With a grunt, Bakugou begins to pull the plates out of the cabinets and the utensils from the drawers. Kirishima gets out their drinks, still twirling to the music in the background. Bakugou doesn’t see when Kirishima changes it from the soft swirl of piano and guitar and small charms to the grumble of rock music. He can’t stop the grin that overtakes his face and turns to Kirishima.

“Thought you said you were hungry?” He can’t stop the tapping of his foot to the electric rift of the guitar. Kirishima just smiles brightly as always and Bakugou can’t help but feel hopelessly in love.

“I am, the music isn’t stopping anything.”

But it is. And Kirishima knows it is because as soon as the lyrics hit they are both banging their heads and screaming as loud as they can. Even with the knowing look of happiness they share, even with the small flutter of butterflies in Bakugou’s stomach he blushes and stomps his feet to the music.

They don’t get to dinner for a while. They stay in the kitchen, not dramatically swaying to the music like in those stupid romantic movies, like before but rocking as hard as they can, laughing and pulling each other’s strings.

And Bakugou for the life of him can’t figure out which one he loves more.

Then Kirishima turns, hair splayed across his face and laughs hard, he plays the fake guitar wonderfully. Bakugou almost wishes that he was a rockstar instead of a pro-hero because damn could he pull it off. Then he pulls Bakugou close, smashing their lips together with the sheer intensity of the song and leans back, screaming the lyrics. Bakugou feels bright and lovesick and stupid.

He can’t really lose when he is with Kirishima. He can’t just be quiet and himself and angry. He is more, so much more in Kirishima's soft, delicate, wonderful hands. He is everything he wanted to be and Kirishima’s somehow even more.

“I still haven’t gotten a reward yet, I think I might know what I want.”

And upon all the yelling in the music Bakugou hears him so clearly, “Hm?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

And Bakugou finds himself falling in love all over again.