kirishima and bakugou are strolling down one of the most scenic streets in downtown tokyo. it's christmastime and the snow sprinkles over their hats, scarves, and eyelashes like powdered sugar. it also drifts delicately over their combined hands, fit snug in their mittens.

they don't need the mittens, not for bakugou's hand, which always runs hot, and not for kirishima's hand, which is currently sweating up a storm at the composite of gay thoughts accumulating in the back on his mind, like a snow bank this very type of weather guarantees.

bakugou is none the wiser, but kirishima intends to propose before the night's end.

no, before this very walk even ends.

kirishima's expression would give him away, if bakugou were even looking.

bakugou's gaze is fixed upward, pulled toward the city's skyline. kirishima sympathizes - the colorful lights, more plentiful in observation of the season, would be utterly transfixing, if it weren't for the more captivating manner in which they reflect in bakugou's own eyes,

dancing over glimmering carmine and imbuing an almost childlike appearance of wonder onto his contrasting stoic expression.

they're lucky they don't need to pay much attention to where they're going, the city's usual bodies relatively scarce in consideration of the hour.

bakugou's eyes flicker over to kirishima's, no doubt noticing his staring, and kirishima's breath catches. it's noticeable, too, in the way that kirishima's exhales no longer filter out as a gentle vapor, product of the cold.

bakugou smiles, softer than anything,

and kirishima's heart veritably skips a beat.

bakugou looks him up and down, opens his mouth to speak, and then shakes his head, seeming to decide against it.

he smiles just a little more, almost a full one this time, and then stops in his tracks.

kirishima follows suit. he's about to ask what's up,

until bakugou drops down onto one knee.

no! it's not fair! kirishima was going to do it - has to do it - first. he's been fingering the ring box in his coat's pocket for /hours/ now, just thinking of the time, the words, the way.

it has to be him!

he's about to object, but he finds himself speechless at the way bakugou looks up at him, his sharp, beautiful eyes scanning his, his expression brimming with words unsaid, words he probably doesn't know how to find.

it's almost too much to look at,

yet kirishima couldn't look away if he tried.

"kirishima..." bakugou says, and his voice is slightly scratchy, choked up, unused.

kirishima manages one small breath at the utterance.

"yeah?" he finds himself saying.

bakugou grins, wide and proud, and kirishima swears his white teeth glint in the light.

"your fucking shoe's untied."

bakugou gets like halfway through tying kirishima's shoe before kirishima's brain catches up, at which point he kicks bakugou into the snowy gutter, makes a break for it, ends up tripping on his shoelace and eats pavement.

bakugou goes to help him up, but kirishima refuses the standing position, opting to remain bent on one knee.

"marry me, asshole?"