bakugo comes home one day to all his belongings in boxes- thread

bakugo and kirishima had been together eleven years, married six.

they were the embodiment of life partners. a pairing no one questioned, something people expected to simply /be/ just as sure as they’d expect the sun to rise to greet the new day.

they were something bakugo relied on, something he never questioned. just like every body else.

so when he walked through the door, exhausted from a days turbulent patrol, to find his things haphazardly packed and shoved in the foyer he was confused to say the least

that morning he’d woken up with eijirou, they’d made and ate breakfast together, shared a sleepy shower and a lingering kiss before katsuki left for work and eijirou headed back to bed

they liked to share their mornings on days they worked opposite schedules, even if it cost them a bit of sleep

part of their devotion to make the relationship work as two top pro heroes.

but the boxes in the foyer were a neon sign that perhaps, contrary to the bliss in which katsuki had been residing, it wasn’t working

“eijirou?” katsuki called up the stairs, but no answer “eijirou!”

he heard a noise from what sounded like their room, then a door closing

then eijirou, already dressed in his hero costume, descended the stairs

his eyes were red, splotchy and puffy as they get when he’s been crying. he felt a pang in his chest break through the anxious confusion at Eijirou’s distraught expression

“fuck is going on?” he asked

eijirou walked past him towards the front door, stopping to turn and face an increasingly confused Katsuki

he took a breath before he squared his shoulders to him and spoke

“I think you need to move out,” he sounded almost venomous, and somewhat rehearsed. like he had said it to his own reflection a dozen times, katsuki knew him enough to know he probably did “all of your shit is here, but I need all of it, and you, gone by the time I get off work”

katsuki scrunched his face “what the fuck do you mean?”

kirishima bent over to pull on his shoes, not looking at katsuki “I don’t want to be with you anymore,” he righted himself, both shoes on “is what I mean Katsuki.”

katsuki felt an immediate pressure on his chest “since fucking when? what happened between you telling me to ditch work and come back to bed this morning and me walking through the door ten seconds ago?”

Eijirou’s face looked strange, hard as stone which was an ironically rare sight on the hardening hero.

“I’m sorry if you feel like you didn’t see this coming, but I’ve made up my mind. I don’t think we should be together anymore and I want you gone by the time I get back.” he swallowed and the pressure in Katsuki’s chest constricted to his heart

“eijirou you can’t-“

“I fucking can Katsuki!” eijirou yelled, sounding akin to manic. It took katsuki back “I can and I have and you need to respect my decision for /once./“ he opened the door “I have to go to work. please be gone when I get home.”

and just like that the door was shut with eijirou on the other side

and like /fuck/ was katsuki going to leave his own house.

tw: pre story-side character death ( ) depression, light alcohol and drug use

katsuki stared at the door feeling almost numb, dream-like even. Like the past forty five seconds couldn’t exist in the timeline he currently resided in.

the only thing he could physically register was the slight tremble in his dominant hand, but that started three weeks ago

he shook his head and looked to the very real boxes stacked next to him, he was at work for twelve hours... eijirou must have busted his ass getting all his shit packed so quick

which was a fucking waste of his time, he thought, digging though a few boxes until he found his clothes thrown, unfolded, in one.

he pulled some out and headed up to their shower

of course he didn’t think about his soap and shampoo being already packed. he stared at Eijirou’s red depositing shampoo for a few minutes, eyes going unfocused halfway through

what the fuck could he have possibly done? that eijirou would just kick him out without a conversation or...

anything

it didn’t make sense.

they had fought. oh, boy had they fought but at least they /did./ at least they blew up and calmed down and worked through it

maybe that was what sat so wrong with katsuki. eijirou was a hot head. the mostly calm, almost distant way he spoke in the foyer was just a bit too contrived for katsuki.

katsuki checked his hair in the steamed up mirror, making sure it hadn’t gone pink on him

he wasn’t leaving without a conversation, eijirou could kiss his ass

even if it’s what eijirou really wanted - which katsuki was sure he didn’t- he at least owed him an explanation, he thought laying still in his towel on their unmade bed

katsuki was surprised he was able to fall asleep when he woke up a few hours later

but the doctor he’s been talking to the past few weeks told him that grief was exhausting to the body and increased sleeping habits were normal

he stared at the wall for a few minutes.

grief was a fucking dick.

a bit of anger finally rose in him, how the fuck was eijirou doing this to him right now. was it /because/ of how he had been the past three weeks that eijirou was leaving?

was the grief of losing one best friend costing him his other one?

costing him his husband?