AN: Using the Year Of The OTP prompts…incorrectly for Bakugou x YN prompts. But Bakugou is MY one true pairing, does that count? I did not proof this b/c life.
You needed more of the soap. Not any type of soap. That special, remove dirt, grime, the truth you didn’t want to face type of soap. You should have known better and bought that extra bottle when you walked by it in the grocery store. Thinking to yourself that you didn’t need it, things would be different.
But here you were, knuckle red and peeling as you scrubbed your undergarments in the bathroom sink of your shared apartment, hoping the crimson stains and any excitement you had would wash away down the drain. You only had a few more seconds before your absence would be noted; you only needed a few more scrubs.
Fuck. The wall that you had built so hard to maintain rattled the moment you heard his gravely voice against the rasp of his knocks on the door.
An attempt to turn the locked handle.
“Katsuki it’s fine.” Even your ‘its fine voice’ was shaking, and that was the best, and last card you had, “I’ll be a few more minutes…” Your attention went back to the sink, scrubbing as hard as you could as if your life, and any remaining control you had depended on it.
“Open the door, Y/N. Let me in.” Bakugou was soft enough to know he had an inkling of what was going on, but held a sternness to him that his request was more of a command. But you were his partner for good reason, you didn’t back down to him.
“No. I just-just give me five more seconds.”
He continued knocking. He continued shaking the door. You couldn’t take it any more. Your wrists slammed against the bathroom sink, “I’m sorry.” You sobbed, “I’m sorry. I thought it would be different, I thought we did it right. I did everything right!”
The knocking stopped. You could see the pressure being lifted from the handle. A sigh from the other end of the wooden barrier between you and the love of your life that your body once again disappointed.
“You remember that time we first kissed?” He asked.
That took you off guard. Of course you remembered. You two were the running joke of your friend circle, the ‘slow burn, rivals to lovers’ tale that when you two finally admitted feelings for each other it was so cosmic that broke each other. Well, Katsuki rushed in to kiss you for the first time with such force he knocked you over, and then he himself falling on top of you breaking his confidence and your arm in the process. It was the internal joke that he quickly discarded his heavy gauntlets for lighter ones because of that incident.
“Well?” He rasped, breaking out out of your daydream.
“Yeah, I remember.” You responded between sniffs.
“Better of.” What a Bakugou thing to say. “What did you tell me after?”
As much as you enjoyed the moments before your lives became complicated, you couldn’t understand the root of his questions, “Why are you asking me this?”
“I told you I fucked it all up and you said sumthin like ‘you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that, just help me up and we’ll try it again.’ And I helped your ass up and we tried again…and then you had to wear that ugly cast for 8 weeks.” You could tell he was smirking on the other end of the door. “I don’t….I don’t know how to fix this, But it isn’t your problem or your fault, so open the damn door and let me help you up so we can try again.”
The unlatch of the door echoed the hallway before it swung open, you pulling Katsuki into the small room and into your arms. His strong arms wrapping around you. “I’m surprised you didn’t call me an idiot.” Your lips murmured against his skin, your tears mingling against his sweat
“Savin’ it for later.” He spoke into your hair. Your arm wasn’t broken, and there was debate to whether you yourself were. But, if there was anything going on inside you that needed repair, It didn’t matter. There wasn’t anything too broken that you and Katsuki couldn’t fix.
You’d help each other up, always, and try again.
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