fic: manly man falls for manliest man, ch. 17
Rating: E. Completed WHOO (~109k). Fluff and humor, developing relationship, pining. Actor baku, salaryman kiri.
The thing about all of this is that Kirishima hasn’t exactly figured out what he wants out of a relationship with Bakugou.
At the end of the day, everything circles back to how much he wants Bakugou but knows that he shouldn’t. Wanting, wanting, even while he knows. And he can’t figure out which is more important, the wanting or the knowing. What percentage of each should he take into consideration, what’s the magic ratio, the formula that will spit out happiness for the both of them? He keeps thinking back to the way Ashido said so unthinkingly, “But I’m not the one Bakugou likes,” as if that’s all that really matters. Is it, though? Is that too naive to believe, in a world where people give up on marriage for things as mundane as different living habits?
Most terrifying of all, is the fact that he’s even considering this, the long-term vision of them together and all that. Kirishima doesn’t understand how and when he fell so hard. At first, he was just happy getting to eat with his idol, hang out together and act like idiots befitting their age, something both of them seem to sorely lack in their lives. And when they started dating, he was so caught up in the wonder that Bakugou could like him that there wasn’t room for Kirishima to worry about anything when their day-to-day moments made him so happy.
And now he’s treating their relationship like they’re childhood sweethearts who have loved each other for half their lives and are getting ready to co-sign the mortgage for a white-picket-fence house with their two dogs or something ridiculous like that and just when did it get so serious? Before Kirishima knew it, all that starry-eyed amazement give way to an affection that smolders in the depths of his chest. It’s this hunger—to keep a whole person for his own—churning in the pit of his stomach. Like a fanged, taloned monster digging into his insides and taking control of him, his mind.
Okay, fine, so putting aside the dramatics, objectively, he knows he’d be fine without Bakugou. He’d eventually move on, in, like, two, or three, or ten years. He’d find someone else to love, maybe someone not as dazzling, but a person who’s beautiful and bright in their own way, and he’ll discover a happiness that could be different or similar to the one he feels with Bakugou. Happiness, regardless. It’s not like he can’t imagine his life without Bakugou, ‘cause let’s be real, Bakugou hasn’t been the most available person ever these past couple of months.
But Kirishima hates that. It makes him feel dirty thinking about being happy with someone else. Wrong, like a crooked tile on the pristine bathroom floor of a nice restaurant. Or like cinching a tie an inch too tight. A fish flopping to its death on the white sands of a beach.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. Lesser. Like settling, and Kirishima doesn’t like settling, he wants to fight for the things he cares about.
But knowing this is not helpful. None of it is. Because Kirishima only knows what’s wrong, and not what’s right.