Bakugou needs an alibi, someone to fix his dishwasher, and closure for the egg and spoon race he lost when he was six years old. The hot new redhead in apartment seven is willing to provide all three.
for @lynchinghost
for @lynchinghost
Itâs all Dekuâs fault, obviously.
âThe noticeboard is there for a reason,â he rationalises, sliding back into his seat and pushing the drink towards Bakugou. âIf youâre just going to get frustrated every time you search for someone to fix it, why not let them come to you?â
âThe noticeboard is there for a reason,â he rationalises, sliding back into his seat and pushing the drink towards Bakugou. âIf youâre just going to get frustrated every time you search for someone to fix it, why not let them come to you?â
âPeople actually use that thing?â Bakugou says, eyebrows raised. âI thought it was only for missing pet posters that everyone else ignores.â
âI donât ignore them.â Midoriya scowls at him. âYouâd be fuming if Cat went missing and everyone ignored /your/ posters looking for her.â
âI donât ignore them.â Midoriya scowls at him. âYouâd be fuming if Cat went missing and everyone ignored /your/ posters looking for her.â
âYeah, well, she wouldnât run away because Iâm a good owner.â Theyâd screamed at each other this morning after heâd woken up to find sheâd shredded all his toilet roll, but Bakugou isnât in the mood to bring that up right now.
âSo, what, I write a note and someoneâs going to see it and recommend a plumber?â
âUh huh. Simple as that.â Midoriya digs around in his coat pockets until he produces a notebook and pen, sliding them across the table towards him.
âUh huh. Simple as that.â Midoriya digs around in his coat pockets until he produces a notebook and pen, sliding them across the table towards him.
âAbout time you got it sorted: youâre killing the environment with all the disposal cutlery youâve been using. I shouldâve egged you on to do it before now.â
Brandishing the pen, Bakugou shoots him a look. âDonât talk about eggs to me.â
Brandishing the pen, Bakugou shoots him a look. âDonât talk about eggs to me.â
âOh, sorry,â Midoriya says, sarcasm edging his words. âI forgot coming second in the egg and spoon race when we were six was such a traumatising event for you. I donât think youâll ever get over the damage the winnerâs done to your psyche.â
Bakugou ignores him, then gets as far as the second word before he hits a roadblock. âIs a plumber the person who fixes dishwashers, or just a repairman?â
âI dunno. I donât even have a dishwasher.â
âI dunno. I donât even have a dishwasher.â
âOh, of course,â Katsuki snaps, throwing a glare his way, âsince only some of us have whipped boyfriends who do the dishes without asking.â
âShouto washes, I dry,â is Midoriyaâs response, coolly dismissing the barb. âItâs cheaper than running a dishwasher."
âShouto washes, I dry,â is Midoriyaâs response, coolly dismissing the barb. âItâs cheaper than running a dishwasher."
"Haven& #39;t you noticed youâve saved money not using yours?â
âItâs not expensive to have a dishwasher, asshole.â Itâs his way of saying he doesnât bother to check the electricity bill before he pays it. Bakugou finishes the note and sits back. âDone.â
âAnd? What did you write?â
âItâs not expensive to have a dishwasher, asshole.â Itâs his way of saying he doesnât bother to check the electricity bill before he pays it. Bakugou finishes the note and sits back. âDone.â
âAnd? What did you write?â
Bakugou holds it up, clears his throat and raises his voice over the hubbub of the bar. âWanted: Plumber. New Paragraph. Hi, I am Katsuki and I am looking for a plumber to fix the door on my dishwasher. Please contact apartment ten if you can help. Perverts, fuck off.â
He looks to Midoriya for his verdict.
âWell, itâs mostly good,â Midoriya muses, head to one side, âexcept I wouldnât add the last sentence. I think it would scare people off a little.â
âItâs for the freak in apartment four, in case he tries it on with me again.â
âWell, itâs mostly good,â Midoriya muses, head to one side, âexcept I wouldnât add the last sentence. I think it would scare people off a little.â
âItâs for the freak in apartment four, in case he tries it on with me again.â
Their landlord had made it very clear that one more complaint of threatening behaviour would get Bakugou an eviction notice, and he& #39;s not prepared to give up somewhere with such good parking and air conditioning.
âThatâs fair. Could you specify it towards him, though, rather than telling everyone to fuck off?â
âIâm not telling everyone to fuck off, only perverts,â Bakugou retorts, and Midoriya concedes as he waves to their waitress for another order.
âIâm not telling everyone to fuck off, only perverts,â Bakugou retorts, and Midoriya concedes as he waves to their waitress for another order.
Three rounds later, he has his terrible idea.
âYou know, Kacchan,â Midoriya says, cheek against the table and blinking up at him with big, liquidy eyes. âYou should write a note for that egg and spoon race kid, too. Use this as an opportunity to get some of the anger out of your
âYou know, Kacchan,â Midoriya says, cheek against the table and blinking up at him with big, liquidy eyes. âYou should write a note for that egg and spoon race kid, too. Use this as an opportunity to get some of the anger out of your
system. I know how much it still annoys you.â
He snorts into his beer. It wasnât any of Midoriyaâs business that heâd avoided eggs for the last twenty years, ever since he was six years old. âWhat, and challenge him to a rematch or something?â
He snorts into his beer. It wasnât any of Midoriyaâs business that heâd avoided eggs for the last twenty years, ever since he was six years old. âWhat, and challenge him to a rematch or something?â
Midoriya sits up so fast he almost spills their drinks, mouth hanging open. âYes! Thatâs a great idea!â
âFine. Hand over more paper.â Midoriya does as heâs told, and Bakugou begins to scribble down the details. âDo you remember what he looks like?â
âFine. Hand over more paper.â Midoriya does as heâs told, and Bakugou begins to scribble down the details. âDo you remember what he looks like?â
The other manâs eyebrows furrow in thought. âNot really. I think he had dark hair, maybe?â
âMaybe isnât good enough.â Bakugou mulls it over and gives up when no distinguishing features come to mind.
âMaybe isnât good enough.â Bakugou mulls it over and gives up when no distinguishing features come to mind.
âIâll just put âheight of a childâ. Keep it vague enough that it wonât be a case of mistaken identity.â
Under Midoriyaâs watchful gaze, a fingertip tracing the rim of his glass, Bakugou finishes with a flourish and pushes it over. âIâm not rewriting it if you donât like it.â
Under Midoriyaâs watchful gaze, a fingertip tracing the rim of his glass, Bakugou finishes with a flourish and pushes it over. âIâm not rewriting it if you donât like it.â
âItâs perfect!â Midoriya declares, beaming. âNot as aggressive as the other one, either. Good job!â
âThe other one wasnât aggressive, it was assertive.â
âOkay,â Midoriya says, and Bakugouâs sure heâs hiding a smirk behind his beer. âWhatever you say.â
âThe other one wasnât aggressive, it was assertive.â
âOkay,â Midoriya says, and Bakugouâs sure heâs hiding a smirk behind his beer. âWhatever you say.â
They stumble the two streets back to their apartment block, and Bakugou considers it a small miracle that Midoriya doesnât trip and hit the curb face-first like he did the last time they came home drunk. He leans against Bakugou as he attaches the notes to the board, frowning.
âYouâre putting both up? The second one wasnât just, you know, a venting exercise?â
âObviously. Why would I bother to write them otherwise? Iâm not writing it only to chuck in the bin right after.â In his buzzed, beer-soaked brain, it makes perfect sense.
âObviously. Why would I bother to write them otherwise? Iâm not writing it only to chuck in the bin right after.â In his buzzed, beer-soaked brain, it makes perfect sense.
âShouldnât have suggested it if you didnât want me to do it.â
âHmm.â Thereâs a crease between Midoriyaâs brows. âThen shouldnât you post it somewhere a little more public? What are the chances he lives in the same apartment block as us?â
âHmm.â Thereâs a crease between Midoriyaâs brows. âThen shouldnât you post it somewhere a little more public? What are the chances he lives in the same apartment block as us?â
âFuck you,â is Bakugouâs answer, and he slaps the back of Midoriyaâs head once heâs done fussing with the noticeboard.
_________________________
Sprawled naked amongst the sheets, Bakugou wakes up the next morning to a pounding headache and someone pounding on his front door.
It feels like he died overnight and was reanimated by someone putting him in the microwave on high until they were satisfied he could pass as a human. Bakugou stumbles to his wash basket and hooks out the first things he finds, temper escalating as the knocking continues.
If he opens the door to find Midoriya, hangover-free and glowing with vitality, heâll put his head through the letterbox.
Who greets him instead is a grinning redhead, so tall Bakugou has to tilt his chin slightly to look him in the eye.
Who greets him instead is a grinning redhead, so tall Bakugou has to tilt his chin slightly to look him in the eye.
What was that old wivesâ tale about height being related to penis size? If itâs true then this guy probably has one the size of Bakugouâs forearm.
âHey!â he announces, voice so loud that Bakugouâs disorientated at once. âIâm Kirishima Eijirou â I moved in upstairs a few weeks ago? I tried calling by to introduce myself, but you were out every time.â
Bakugou looks him up and down, too hungover to entertain his new neighbour even if heâs hot as hell. Fuck him for pulling off an undercut, dark roots /and/ a ponytail all at once. âOkay. Whatever.â His stomach rolls with nausea and he makes to swing the door shut again.
âHold on â â
Heâs stopped by the foot that jams itself against the frame, and Bakugou slowly looks from the red Croc to the bright face of its owner.
Heâs stopped by the foot that jams itself against the frame, and Bakugou slowly looks from the red Croc to the bright face of its owner.
âI saw your note on the noticeboard â well, notes â and I thought they were the perfect opportunity to get to know you and establish myself as a good neighbour!â
Bakugou cracks the door open, and Kirishima holds up two slips of paper covered with familiar, scrawling handwriting.
Bakugou cracks the door open, and Kirishima holds up two slips of paper covered with familiar, scrawling handwriting.
A thrill runs through him, followed by smugness at Deku acting like /he/ was the rational one.
âSo itâs you,â he says slowly, lip curling. âYouâre the shithead who beat me in the race.â
âSo itâs you,â he says slowly, lip curling. âYouâre the shithead who beat me in the race.â
âUh, no.â Kirishima blinks at him. âI grew up in Hiroshima. Iâm a repairman: I thought I could fix your dishwasher.â
âOh.â Bakugou deflates, then makes a mental note to tell that asshole Midoriya that itâs not a plumber after all. Then â âWhy?â
âTo be a good neighbour,â Kirishima repeats, eyebrows raised. Thereâs a silver ring on the left side of his nose. âYour egg and spoon race note is really funny, though. Iâd be up for that if you wanted me to pretend I was your six-year-old rival.â
Could this guy even read properly? God, he& #39;s probably a himbo. âIt doesnât work like that. Itâs only meant for the kid who beat me.â
âYeah, and what are the chances he lives in this apartment block? Pretty low, if you ask me. Anyway, can I have a look at your dishwasher or not?â
âYeah, and what are the chances he lives in this apartment block? Pretty low, if you ask me. Anyway, can I have a look at your dishwasher or not?â
Bakugouâs tempted to spit at him before he has a sudden thought, followed by a cold chill down the length of his spine. âYou havenât â Camie didnât hire you, did she?â
âCamie?â Kirishima shakes his head, perplexed. âI donât know who that is.â
âSomeone else, then,â Bakugou says impatiently. âBecause Iâm not interested in any of that bullshit, so if this is all an elaborate plot youâre setting up just to start stripping off in front of me â â
âSomeone else, then,â Bakugou says impatiently. âBecause Iâm not interested in any of that bullshit, so if this is all an elaborate plot youâre setting up just to start stripping off in front of me â â
Kirishima tips his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the corridor. Bakugouâs scowl deepens, despite the fact Kirishimaâs laughter is causing an unfamiliar warmth to spread through his chest.
âIâm /not/ a stripper,â Kirishima says at last, beaming at him. His smileâs so wide that the corners of his eyes are creased with the size of it, the beginning of crowâs feet against his tanned skin.
âI promise. I live in apartment seven, I saw the notes on the noticeboard coming back from my morning run, and look.â
He shifts in the doorway so he can show Bakugou whatâs in his left hand, and he supposes that a stripper wouldnât go to the effort of getting a toolbox together.
He shifts in the doorway so he can show Bakugou whatâs in his left hand, and he supposes that a stripper wouldnât go to the effort of getting a toolbox together.
Of course this guy would be the type to go on a morning run while he was lying in bed contemplating every decision heâd ever made in his life.
âFine,â he says at last, lips pursed. âWhat do you charge?â
âFine,â he says at last, lips pursed. âWhat do you charge?â
âNothing! Iâm doing you a favour and besides, it shouldnât be much work unless you need replacement parts. Hopefully not, though.â Heâs back to grinning again, when Bakugou hasnât the faintest idea what he should even be smiling about.
âI reckon you just need to drain the drum, or thereâs a problem with your delay lock. Itâs cool. Shouldnât take me that long, either. So, whaddya say?â
His need to lie down and rest his spinning head is greater than his suspicion of the neighbour who may or may not be a stripper. Rolling his eyes and huffing, Bakugou steps aside and lets Kirishima bound into his apartment, swinging the toolbox in one hand.
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Bakugou tries not to feel paranoid when Kirishimaâs head starts swivelling the second he steps through the door, examining every inch of his apartment.
âOoh, nice place. I like the plant. Plants,â he corrects at once, eyes roving over the shelves. âAre you a gardener?â
âOoh, nice place. I like the plant. Plants,â he corrects at once, eyes roving over the shelves. âAre you a gardener?â
âNo.â Heâs already regretting inviting him in, scowling as Kirishima stops to examine the yucca plant on the way to the dishwasher.
âWhat do you do, then?â
âWhat do you do, then?â
âWhat is this, twenty questions?â Bakugou throws himself onto the sofa, putting a cushion over his head to block out the light and the guyâs too-cheerful voice. He probably ought to be offering him a coffee, but now heâs on the sofa heâs stuck here for the foreseeable future.
âBeing cagey over your job makes me think /you/ have something to hide.â Thereâs the rustling of tools, the manâs sigh as he crouches down in front of the dishwasher. âWere you self projecting earlier? Are you really the stripper here?â
âFuck no. Iâm a language teacher.â
âOh, thatâs cool! Which ones do you speak?â
Bakugou fields the questions with one of his own: âAre you always this fucking chirpy?â
âOh, thatâs cool! Which ones do you speak?â
Bakugou fields the questions with one of his own: âAre you always this fucking chirpy?â
âIâd call it being friendly. And not hungover.â Bakugou lifts the cushion, outraged, to see a wicked grin spreading across the redheadâs face. âHey, I get it. Everythingâs worse after a night knocking them back. I have a friend who doesnât know when to stop with the shots."
"Man, it& #39;s embarrassing having to drag him home and tuck him into bed, but it was worse when he still lived with his mom. I used to hang out with her and she& #39;d make me tea before I went home, though. That was cool."
Kirishimaâs turned away and is addressing the dishwasher by the time Bakugouâs processed the fact his friend has nothing to do with their conversation. âCâmon, tell me. What other languages do you speak?â
He accepts defeat when he realises non compliance isnât an option. âEnglish, Korean, and some French. And I know sign language. JSL, not ASL, obviously.â
Rootling through his toolbox, Kirishima whistles. âOkay, thatâs /really/ cool. Iâve never met someone who knows sign language! Will you show me some?â
âSure.â Bakugou sticks his middle finger up at him. âThere you go.â
âSure.â Bakugou sticks his middle finger up at him. âThere you go.â
âOh, you - â He tilts his head back and rolls his eyes. âShouldâve expected that, huh?â
âYep,â Bakugou tells him smugly. He doesnât know if Kirishimaâs noticed his cochlear implant and is being polite, or if heâs such an idiot that heâs missed it entirely. Probably the latter.
âYep,â Bakugou tells him smugly. He doesnât know if Kirishimaâs noticed his cochlear implant and is being polite, or if heâs such an idiot that heâs missed it entirely. Probably the latter.
In any case, the redheadâs frowning at the dishwasher as he raps his knuckles against its door, and Bakugou remembers heâs not here just to be eye candy.
âSo you said the doorâs stuck?â
âYep.â
âAnd did you try kicking it to get it open?â
âYouâre not recommending that, are you?â
âNah.â Kirishima points to a scuff at the bottom of it. âJust observing what I think you tried already.â
âYep.â
âAnd did you try kicking it to get it open?â
âYouâre not recommending that, are you?â
âNah.â Kirishima points to a scuff at the bottom of it. âJust observing what I think you tried already.â
âYouâve got to show them whoâs boss,â Bakugou protests. âYou know, put them in their place a little. Let technology know they& #39;re not the ones in control.â
Kirishima sighs through his nose but doesnât comment.
Kirishima sighs through his nose but doesnât comment.
Bakugou doesnât get to retort before the redhead begins to roll up his sleeves, exposing tanned arms and two full sleeves of tattoos. He abandons the argument to wipe his mouth as surreptitiously as he can, before he starts flat out dribbling down his chin.
âYou have a cat?â
âYep.â Bakugou watches Cat stare at Kirishima, head to one side as if debating on whether or not to run for it. Undeterred by her hesitance, he stretches a hand out.
âHey, kitty. Aw, youâre so cute.â Won over, Cat bumps her head against his palm, purring.
âYep.â Bakugou watches Cat stare at Kirishima, head to one side as if debating on whether or not to run for it. Undeterred by her hesitance, he stretches a hand out.
âHey, kitty. Aw, youâre so cute.â Won over, Cat bumps her head against his palm, purring.
Eyes on Kirishimaâs tattoos and broad, muscular arms, Bakugou doesnât know what the hell takes over him, whatever possesses him to say the next thing he blurts out.
âSo, you like pussy?â
âSo, you like pussy?â
Amazingly, Kirishima doesnât react, even if Bakugou bites down on his tongue so hard he tastes blood in his mouth and curses himself for being born.
âI like everything,â he says, and Bakugou holds his breath. âCats, dogs, rabbits, fishâŠâ
âI like everything,â he says, and Bakugou holds his breath. âCats, dogs, rabbits, fishâŠâ
While Kirishima rattles off every animal he likes, Bakugou puts his head in his hands and takes it as a loss.
âI really like black cats, though,â he says at last, scratching behind Catâs ears. âWhatâs this oneâs name?â
âI really like black cats, though,â he says at last, scratching behind Catâs ears. âWhatâs this oneâs name?â
âCat.â
âOoh, meta.â Kirishimaâs teeth are slightly pointed as he grins at him. Cat takes his distraction as offence and plods off to her bowl instead. âI like it.â
âOoh, meta.â Kirishimaâs teeth are slightly pointed as he grins at him. Cat takes his distraction as offence and plods off to her bowl instead. âI like it.â
Bakugou doesnât bother to correct him and tell him that, no, he just never came up with a name for the stray who took the food he left out as an invitation to move in. Heâs still trying to recover from Kirishimaâs tattoos, and crosses his legs as subtly as he can.
âIâm cashing in another one of my twenty questions,â Kirishima announces, loosening a bolt on the side of the door. âTell me more about the intriguing Camie. That was her name, right? The one who hired you a stripper before?â
He can only imagine Camieâs reaction to a hot repairman turning up at his door like the start of a porno, only for him to just be an aggravatingly nice neighbour. âNothing to say,â he grunts, âother than her being a bitch.â
âRude. Is she your ex?â
âAbsolutely not.â Practicing kissing when they were fourteen doesnât count. âShe walks a fine line between a friend and an absolute nightmare.â
âIt sounds like she wants to get you laid, though, if sheâs hiring strippers for you.â
âAbsolutely not.â Practicing kissing when they were fourteen doesnât count. âShe walks a fine line between a friend and an absolute nightmare.â
âIt sounds like she wants to get you laid, though, if sheâs hiring strippers for you.â
Well. It& #39;s been a while. Bakugou weighs up the potential risk and reward of asking Kirishima if heâs willing. âItâs more to try and stress me out,â he says at last, when he realises he hasnât brushed his teeth so probably shouldnât be sticking his tongue down Kirishimaâs throat.
âAnyway, strippers donât sleep with you.â
âDo they not? Iâve never had one, so I wouldnât know.â Humming to himself, Kirishima pulls a panel away from the door and squints in at it. âYeah, it looks like latch damage. Blind dates work, though, so maybe thatâs what sheâs trying.â
âDo they not? Iâve never had one, so I wouldnât know.â Humming to himself, Kirishima pulls a panel away from the door and squints in at it. âYeah, it looks like latch damage. Blind dates work, though, so maybe thatâs what sheâs trying.â
âIâm not so sure.â Bakugou narrows his eyes at him. âWhy, did it work for you?â
âOh, no, Iâm single. Still looking for Mr Right.â
A heavenly choir plays somewhere, the angels singing down on Bakugou Katsuki after depositing this gift on his doorstep.
âOh, no, Iâm single. Still looking for Mr Right.â
A heavenly choir plays somewhere, the angels singing down on Bakugou Katsuki after depositing this gift on his doorstep.
âIt worked for my friends, yâknow,â Kirishima continues, while Bakugou is busy thanking whatever god listened to him and made this guy single. âThey both got set up on blind dates, right? And both of them got stood up by the person they were meant to be meeting."
"So Tetsu was like, âhey, random man at the table next to me, did you get let down too?ââ
âAnd Inasa was like âyeah dude, wanna grab a drink and drown our sorrows?â. So they did, but they ended up hooking up, and now theyâve been together for like⊠a year, or something.â
âAnd Inasa was like âyeah dude, wanna grab a drink and drown our sorrows?â. So they did, but they ended up hooking up, and now theyâve been together for like⊠a year, or something.â
âFascinating.â This morning is developing better than he anticipated. While Kirishima busies himself with the dishwasher Bakugouâs gaze moves from his tanned skin to the dark roots, and then to the tattoo peeking out from the edge of his vest, stretching onto his shoulder blade.
âIâm gonna get a shower,â he announces, and Kirishima twists around to meet his eyes. Time to break out a razor and aftershave. âAre you going to poke around the place the second I leave you alone?â
âNah. I think Iâd wait a minute at least.â Kirishima tilts his head to one side, eyebrows raised. âIâm here to fix this, not to go looking through your drawers. Give me a bit of credit, yeah?â
Despite the words, heâs grinning at him with sharklike teeth. Bakugou tries not to collapse into a sad puddle thatâll seep through the floorboards to the apartment below.
âI donât know you, so I canât give you any credit,â he says snippily. âFor all I know you could be one of those psychos who cases out a place before they rob it or kill the homeowner.â
He thinks of Dekuâs obsession with true crime documentaries, his grim conclusion that even the hottest person could be a serial killer. Probably explains why he went for the objectively hideous Todoroki.
âSounds like someoneâs been watching the crime and investigation network too much. Next thing I know youâll be asking for my ID.â Kirishima pats himself down, then curses. âDamn. Left my wallet in my apartment. Guess youâve just got to trust me, huh?â
Bakugou resists the urge to demand to pat Kirishima down himself and, with a roll of his eyes, makes for the bathroom.
He takes a hot shower, just to shock himself into feeling more human, and then a cold one, when he remembers exactly whoâs sitting cross-legged in his kitchen.
He takes a hot shower, just to shock himself into feeling more human, and then a cold one, when he remembers exactly whoâs sitting cross-legged in his kitchen.
By the time heâs finished shaving, spraying and scrubbing his teeth until his gums ache, Bakugou is ready for action.
He pads back into the kitchen, hair still damp against his neck, to find Kirishima pulling the dishwasher door down to reveal its contents.
He pads back into the kitchen, hair still damp against his neck, to find Kirishima pulling the dishwasher door down to reveal its contents.
âTa-dah! Itâs alive!â He beams at him, crowâs feet on show once more. âIt was only your latch, so Iâve got it all fixed up. You shouldnât have any problems now.â The redhead peers into it to examine its contents. âDamn, I bet you havenât seen some of this stuff for months.â
Heâs almost certain that he can see the bowl he stole from Midoriya sometime last year, but Bakugou reasons to himself that if he hasnât asked for it back yet then he never will. Besides, now is /not/ the time to be thinking about Midoriya.
âI have to pay you back somehow.â If that takes the form of dropping to his knees and unbuckling his belt, itâs a sacrifice heâs willing to make.
âHonestly, you donât have to. I donât mind.â Kirishima hesitates, and Bakugou prays heâs contemplating the blowjob.
âHonestly, you donât have to. I donât mind.â Kirishima hesitates, and Bakugou prays heâs contemplating the blowjob.
âYou could do one thing, though. If you had the time.â
Have the time? Heâs got the rest of the day free, but Bakugouâs certain he could get this guy coming like a fountain in three minutes flat.
Have the time? Heâs got the rest of the day free, but Bakugouâs certain he could get this guy coming like a fountain in three minutes flat.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, he crosses his legs and pushes the hair back from his forehead, hoping Kirishima likes what he sees. âOh, yeah?â
âYeah.â Kirishima smiles at him. âThe egg and spoon race thing.â
âYeah.â Kirishima smiles at him. âThe egg and spoon race thing.â
This shit again. Bakugou resists the urge to pull a spoon from the dishwasher and hit him over the head with it.
âIâve told you already, thatâs not for you,â he tells him, scowling. Even if he has a thing for himbos, Kirishimaâs pushing it. âThatâs for the kid who beat me.â
âIâve told you already, thatâs not for you,â he tells him, scowling. Even if he has a thing for himbos, Kirishimaâs pushing it. âThatâs for the kid who beat me.â
âAnd I told /you/ that thereâs no way youâll find that kid, especially not if youâre only putting up signs on your apartment noticeboard.â Kirishima reaches out to gently punch his arm, rearing back and grinning before Bakugou can headbutt him. âItâll be fun, donât you think?â
Bakugou frowns at him, chewing on his lip and debating. An egg and spoon race is definitely less sexy than anything he had in mind. Another thought hits him, and he jerks his thumb at Kirishima. âGet over here.â
Kirishima blinks at him. âUm. Okay?â He moves beside him and Bakugou grabs him, fingers biting into hard muscle as he spins Kirishima around until theyâre side by side, examining them. He can practically feel the confusion radiating from the redhead. âWhat exactly are you doing?â
âNothing. Doesnât matter.â Relief flooding his veins, Bakugou pushes him away. Kirishimaâs taller, but judging by where his hips are, he has shorter legs and a longer torso than him.
So much for his theory that Kirishima was only proposing an egg and spoon race in belief he would beat him, and that the guy had a kink for humiliating people.
He tilts his chin, staring Kirishima out. âYou really wanna do this stupid race?â
He tilts his chin, staring Kirishima out. âYou really wanna do this stupid race?â
The confusion melts away from Kirishimaâs face to be replaced by a wide smile. âYeah. I think weâll have a laugh. Is this your way of saying youâre up for it?â
Bakugou snorts dismissively. âWell, it doesnât count as a proper race."
Bakugou snorts dismissively. âWell, it doesnât count as a proper race."
"Itâll just be a warm up for when I find that kid again; practice, so that I can annihilate him.â
Once he wins the race, he can âaccidentallyâ crack his egg over Kirishimaâs head and invite him back for a joint shower. Two types of frustration solved in one.
Once he wins the race, he can âaccidentallyâ crack his egg over Kirishimaâs head and invite him back for a joint shower. Two types of frustration solved in one.
âOoh,â Kirishima says, grin wicked and arms folded over his broad chest, âyou have a thing for putting people in their place, donât you?â
Right now he wants to seize Kirishima and put him in place in his bed, but the idiotâs not getting it. Bakugou moves over to the fridge instead, cracking it open and searching through it before huffing.
âI donât have any eggs. Do you?â
âI donât have any eggs. Do you?â
âNah. I need to go shopping.â Kirishimaâs face lights up. âIt sounds like itâs a perfect excuse for us two to go grocery shopping, though. You can show me whereâs good, âcause I still donât know all the best places in town yet.â
Bakugouâs grabbing his coat and shoving on shoes before Kirishima can change his mind. âOh, trust me,â he says darkly, pushing Kirishima out into the hallway and locking the door behind him, âIâll show you the best.â
tbc, link to top https://twitter.com/sascakegia/status/1382667529215164417">https://twitter.com/sascakegi...
Bakugouâs tall. Very tall. He hit six foot at seventeen and added a couple of inches in the years that followed, and enjoys nothing more than putting something of Midoriyaâs on a high shelf that he canât reach.
He tries not to grind his teeth when Kirishima very obviously slows down to keep pace with him, instead of striding ahead like the freakishly tall freak he is. Risking a glance at the redhead, he catches sight of the tattoos once more as the man swings his arms and hums cheerily.
âSo,â Bakugou says at last, when nosiness and horniness win over manners. âTheyâre some tattoos youâve got.â
He resists a compliment, only because heâs afraid his desperation would be obvious.
He resists a compliment, only because heâs afraid his desperation would be obvious.
âYou noticed?â Grinning, Kirishima yanks back the sleeves of his cardigan to show them off. âThat reminds me that I have to find a new artist here. Iâve got a little bit to fill out, see?â
He taps a fingertip down on a patch of clear skin by his elbow. Bakugou resists the urge to lean in and lick it. Biting down on his tongue to keep it in line, he tilts his chin down and examines the inkings.
Thereâs a lion mid-roar on Kirishimaâs bicep, trees sprouting at his wrists and stretching along his forearms. Bakugou frowns at the old-fashioned heart, the word on the scroll wrapping around it. âMoms?â
âIâve got two. Figured one tattoo would do for them both, you know?â
âIâve got two. Figured one tattoo would do for them both, you know?â
âAh. And what about that one?â He points to one of a wobbly red dragon on his other arm, tattooed as if by a childâs hand.
âOh, that.â Kirishimaâs expression softens. âThatâs from my niece.â
âOh, that.â Kirishimaâs expression softens. âThatâs from my niece.â
âI used to let her draw on the gaps in my sleeves, and when she drew that I made her redo it on a piece of paper so I could bring it to my artist and get it actually tattooed.â
Bakugouâs suddenly very relieved he didnât cast judgement on its quality.
Bakugouâs suddenly very relieved he didnât cast judgement on its quality.
âDo you just have one niece?â he says, instead of âwow, your niece definitely doesnât have a future career as an artistâ.
âNah,â Kirishima says casually, âIâve got three. And two nephews.â
Bakugou blinks. âBig family?â
âNah,â Kirishima says casually, âIâve got three. And two nephews.â
Bakugou blinks. âBig family?â
âUh huh.â Kirishimaâs back to swinging his arms. âIâm the oldest of seven. Counting my moms and all my siblingsâ partners and kids, thereâs seventeen of us.â
He stops in his tracks, mouth open. âYouâre kidding me.â
He stops in his tracks, mouth open. âYouâre kidding me.â
âNo.â Kirishima twists to face him, eyes wide and earnest. âIâve got four sisters and two brothers. Two of them are twins, and my sisterâs got twins, too.â
And Bakugou could barely cope with only his parents.
And Bakugou could barely cope with only his parents.
He tries not to feel overwhelmed at the thought of so many people in a single house, every one as huge as Kirishima. âWere there no forms of entertainment for your parents when you were growing up?â
Kirishima cocks his head to one side, confused. âWe had a few TVs, so yeah, there was. What about you? Do you have any siblings?â
âNope. Only child.â
His face creases with sympathy. âThat mustâve been super boring. Iâm used to a loud house.â
âNope. Only child.â
His face creases with sympathy. âThat mustâve been super boring. Iâm used to a loud house.â
Bakugou shrugs. Midoriya was at his house more often than enough, winning over his parents and making it so that Bakugou was in for a lecture when he left, all centred around why he didnât say please or thank you as much as Midoriya did. Suck up.
âWhy did you move here from Hiroshima, then, if you have so much family back home?â
âJust wanted a change of scenery. I had a few friends living here, so I thought Iâd move up and see what itâs like.â Kirishima sidesteps a fire hydrant, arms still swinging.
âJust wanted a change of scenery. I had a few friends living here, so I thought Iâd move up and see what itâs like.â Kirishima sidesteps a fire hydrant, arms still swinging.
âMy family can always come up and visit, and itâs pretty good so far. Weâre in a great apartment complex, arenât we?â
Bakugou merely grunts in response. Kirishima clearly hasnât run into the occupant of apartment four yet, and thus doesnât know theyâre neighbours with a pervert.
Bakugou merely grunts in response. Kirishima clearly hasnât run into the occupant of apartment four yet, and thus doesnât know theyâre neighbours with a pervert.
âI havenât met many other people in the building,â Kirishima continues, half-answering his unspoken question, âbut there was a really nice guy I ran into when I was trying to find where we leave our bins. I think he was called Midoriya, or - â
âStay away from him!â Bakugou barks at once, mind filled with terrifying images of Midoriya and Todoroki getting their claws into him. He isnât sure if theyâre in the habit of threesomes, but heâs two seconds away from staking a claim on Kirishima himself.
âOh. Do you guys not get on?â
âHeâs my friend,â Bakugou grinds out, the word most unwilling to be used, âbut heâs a nightmare.â
âYou think a lot of your friends are nightmares,â Kirishima says lightly. âMidoriya was really kind to me. Hope you donât think Iâm a nightmare, too.â
âHeâs my friend,â Bakugou grinds out, the word most unwilling to be used, âbut heâs a nightmare.â
âYou think a lot of your friends are nightmares,â Kirishima says lightly. âMidoriya was really kind to me. Hope you donât think Iâm a nightmare, too.â
âSo weâre friends, then?â He feels like a five year old on the playground. âWeâve only just met.â
Kirishima shrugs, his smile back. âYou welcomed me into your home, I helped you out and now weâre spending time together. Youâre the first friend Iâve made here.â
Kirishima shrugs, his smile back. âYou welcomed me into your home, I helped you out and now weâre spending time together. Youâre the first friend Iâve made here.â
Bakugou makes an indistinguishable noise, fighting back the temptation to ask him if he wants to be more than friends. âOver there,â he says instead, pointing at a store across the street. âThatâs where I normally do my grocery shopping.â
âGreat!â He jerks with surprise when Kirishima hooks an arm around his, bodily dragging Bakugou across the road. His heartâs fit for bursting when they reach the other side, Kirishima releasing him and gesturing him forwards with a beaming smile.
He canât look at the redhead as he grabs a basket and leads Kirishima through the aisles, willing his hands to stop shaking. Bakugouâs pretty sure heâs a split second away from grabbing him by the ponytail and dragging him down into a kiss.
âThis place is really nice.â Kirishima meanders over to a display of vegetables, lifting a packet of pak choi and holding it aloft. âI love this stuff! Have you ever had it fried?â
âAre you a vegetarian?â Heâs vaguely reminded of the time he decided to go vegan and stuck to it for a full week, until he came home drunk and woke up the next morning surrounded by the remnants of a bacon sandwich.
âNah, I love meat,â Kirishima says airily. âThe three Mâs, you know? Meat, muscle gain and men. Itâs great when you get all three together.â
Bakugou grips the side of the display to ground himself, sure his knees are about to give out. Heâs mildly surprised that by the time heâs recovered, Kirishima is busy slinging the vegetables into his basket. Maybe itâs all part of an elaborate scheme to give him a heart attack.
Maybe Kirishima is that foolish that he doesnât realise the effect his words have on him. Bakugou remains suspicious.
âI thought we were meant to be here for eggs?â he grinds out, deciding that even if Kirishimaâs hot as hell, heâs Not Trusted Yet.
âOh, yeah!â Laughter bubbles from Kirishima, deep and warm. Bakugouâs mouth goes dry at the sound. âI totally forgot. Itâs kind of like grocery shopping when you go on holiday, you know? You get a kick out of supermarkets youâve never seen before.â
âHmm.â Bakugou sidesteps him, marching ahead and leaving the redhead to bound in his wake. âWhen you were so insistent on the stupid race in the first place.â
âAfter /you/ advertised it, yeah,â Kirishima tells him, an elbow nudging his ribs then quickly withdrawing before he retaliates. âI wondered if it was, like, a roleplay. That or a coded message.â
Bakugou rolls his eyes as they round the corner to the next aisle. âNo. Just a stupid, drunken idea, spurred on by that idiot Midoriya.â
âAhh. So Midoriyaâs not that bad that you wonât go drinking with him.â Kirishimaâs smile is wicked.
âAhh. So Midoriyaâs not that bad that you wonât go drinking with him.â Kirishimaâs smile is wicked.
âYou owe him for getting your dishwasher fixed, and I owe him for helping me to make a friend,â he adds solemnly, and it takes all of Bakugouâs willpower and all of the redheadâs good looks to stop him from sticking a foot out and tripping him.
He seizes a carton of twelve eggs and dumps them in Kirishimaâs waiting basket, eyeing the vegetables littering its base. âIâm not buying your groceries, you know.â
Kirishima arches an eyebrow, which has the unintended effect of making Bakugou stare at how dark they are in contrast to his hair. âNot even as a thank you for fixing the dishwasher?â
He hesitates, but Kirishimaâs laughing and clapping a huge hand on his shoulder before he can speak. âIâm just kidding. I didnât expect you to pay for them. Want to split the cost of the eggs? I pay for six, you pay for six?â
Bakugou sighs through his nose while Kirishima beams. He still shoves notes his way when they hit the checkouts.
Meandering back to the apartment complex, the sun is beating down on the back of Bakugouâs head as he sidesteps pedestrians. Heâs in half a mind to simply walk behind Kirishima, the man so tall and broad that he seems to part the crowd like the Red Sea.
âHere, would you hold it for a second?â Bakugou accepts the grocery bag from him and watches as Kirishima reaches back to tighten his ponytail, the hair spilling back to his shoulder blades.
âThat mustâve taken a while to grow,â he says, before he can stop himself.
âThat mustâve taken a while to grow,â he says, before he can stop himself.
â/Years/,â Kirishima tells him, rolling his eyes. He takes the bag back and casts a glance over Bakugouâs own hair. âIt must take you no time at all to dry yours - Iâm stuck at the hairdryer for ages.â
He shrugs carelessly. âI mostly let it air dry, or with a towel.â
He shrugs carelessly. âI mostly let it air dry, or with a towel.â
âDoes it - ?â
Kirishima cuts off with a quick intake of breath and Bakugou turns to face him, frowning. âDoes it what?â
Heâs mystified as to why Kirishimaâs face is rapidly turning the same colour as his hair.
Kirishima cuts off with a quick intake of breath and Bakugou turns to face him, frowning. âDoes it what?â
Heâs mystified as to why Kirishimaâs face is rapidly turning the same colour as his hair.
âNothing,â the redhead says quickly, shaking his head. âI was just being nosy.â
âHmm.â His confusion is rapidly melting away into suspicion. âCome on, then. Stop acting like a freak. What did you want to ask?â
âHmm.â His confusion is rapidly melting away into suspicion. âCome on, then. Stop acting like a freak. What did you want to ask?â
Kirishimaâs definitely embarrassed, hands shoved in his pockets and lips pressed together. His eyes flicker once over the side of Bakugouâs head, and he knows what heâs about to ask the second before itâs voiced.
âIs it difficult to wash your hair with your hearing aid?â he blurts out, and looks mortified that he let the words loose.
On the other hand, Bakugouâs unruffled. Heâs just surprised it hasnât come up before now; even if Kirishima wasnât gawping like most other people did, it seemed impossible for most of them to hold their tongue longer than five minutes after meeting him.
âNo. The external processor isnât waterproof - â He taps a finger against it, Kirishimaâs eyes tracking the motion â - so I need to remove that beforehand, but the internal processor is under the skin. Itâs no big deal.â
âOh.â Kirishima blinks, still scarlet. âI - Iâm really sorry if that was rude. I shouldnât have - I was being nosy. Iâm sorry.â
âYeah, you were being nosy,â Bakugou tells him imperiously, and watches Kirishima wilt like a sad houseplant.
âYeah, you were being nosy,â Bakugou tells him imperiously, and watches Kirishima wilt like a sad houseplant.
He eyes him for a second longer, lips pursed. âItâs fine, though. People always ask. You werenât rude.â
Kirishima makes a sort of self-pitying sound in the back of his throat. âYeah, but I shouldnât have just - I donât know. I was being weird.â
Kirishima makes a sort of self-pitying sound in the back of his throat. âYeah, but I shouldnât have just - I donât know. I was being weird.â
Despite himself, Bakugou softens at his expression. Maybe his weakness really is himbos.
âThat isnât the weirdest thing about you,â he tells him, and Kirishima yelps when he pokes him in the ribs. âTurning up at a strangerâs house to fix their dishwasher is definitely weirder.â
âThat isnât the weirdest thing about you,â he tells him, and Kirishima yelps when he pokes him in the ribs. âTurning up at a strangerâs house to fix their dishwasher is definitely weirder.â
Kirishima rubs at his ribs with a pout, but his eyes are creased with crowâs feet once more. âTurning up like a guardian angel, you mean. Or the start of a porno. Whichever one you prefer.â
He definitely knows which one he prefers, but heâs still not prepared to say it aloud.
He definitely knows which one he prefers, but heâs still not prepared to say it aloud.
Bakugouâs heart sinks when they stroll into the lobby to find Midoriya at his post box, letters clutched between his fingers.
âMorning, Kacchan.â He looks up at him, but his eyes slide to Kirishima in a second.
âMorning, Kacchan.â He looks up at him, but his eyes slide to Kirishima in a second.
Bakugou decides he definitely doesnât like the smile playing around his lips. âI didnât know you two knew - â
âGo away,â Bakugou snaps, physically pushing Kirishima until he walks ahead, bewildered. âLeave us alone, weirdo.â
âGo away,â Bakugou snaps, physically pushing Kirishima until he walks ahead, bewildered. âLeave us alone, weirdo.â
âGood to see you!â Kirishima calls after him, and Bakugou shoots one last warning look at Midoriya.
âNice one,â Midoriya stage-whispers, nodding in Kirishimaâs direction.
/Fuck you/ Bakugou mouths back.
âNice one,â Midoriya stage-whispers, nodding in Kirishimaâs direction.
/Fuck you/ Bakugou mouths back.
He keeps pushing Kirishima on until theyâre at his apartment once more, and the redhead turns to him with a flourish as Bakugou searches for his keys.
âYouâre so mean to him,â he says with a sigh, gesturing back down down the stairs. âMidoriyaâs really - â
âYouâre so mean to him,â he says with a sigh, gesturing back down down the stairs. âMidoriyaâs really - â
Kirishima gestures just a little too wildly, and the shopping bag slips from his grip and goes sailing across the hallway. It hits the wall before either of them can make a lunge for it and, open-mouthed, Bakugou watches egg yolk ooze onto the carpet.
âOh dear.â Kirishima turns back to him, lips pressed together. It does nothing to disguise the fact theyâre twitching with laughter. âSorry. Will we go back to the store and get another carton?â
It takes every ounce of willpower to breathe in through his nose, count to ten, let it out a great gust of air and nod instead of scream. Bakugou stomps towards the stairs once more, Kirishima bounding behind as if attached at the hip.
tbc, link to top https://twitter.com/sascakegia/status/1382667529215164417">https://twitter.com/sascakegi...