Genre: fluff/angst
Pairings: Eijiro Kirishima/Katsuki Bakugou
Word Count: 4k
Trigger warnings: Strong language, explicit sexual content.
Dedication: @kingexpl0sionmurder thank you for all of your constant love, support and encouragement and also for making this awesome banner! Thankyou @sailorsero for editing for me <3 Title taken from Red Hand.
A/N: So this is my contribution to the BNHArem May 2022 collab :)
***
Eijirou had been doing this job for long enough to know that that couldn’t mean anything good. On the rare occasion that any member of the gang - particularly those under Katsuki’s direct command - had been late for a debriefing, it had been because they’d run into some kind of trouble.
Trying not to drive himself crazy with worry, Kirishima busied himself with jobs that he’d already done at least once. He’d already polished the bar twice, triple checked the glasses were all gleaming and wiped down every one of the 10+ tables a couple of times. The pub looked better than it ever had, yet Eijirou still needed to find something else to distract him. Every minute that ticked by meant that bad news was more likely.
Part of him hated that he still got so anxious. He’d known what he was getting into when he’d accepted this job. Shota Aizawa’s reputation had been fearsome for as long as Kirishima could remember and he’d been warned to stay well away from him. As things turned out, a desperate 15 year old Kirishima hadn’t had much choice but to trust the infamous gangster. It was either that or rot in jail for petty theft. Sometimes he wondered if choosing jail time would have been a better option.
A tiny voice in Eijirou’s head reprimanded him for that thought. Sure being part of Aizawa’s growing network of underground dealings was stressful and scary at times, but if he’d chosen any other path, he never probably never would have gotten to know Katsuki Bakugou.
Katsuki was a whole other source of concern. Of all the people Kirishima could have fallen in love with, it had to be Aizawa’s most unpredictable and fiery adopted son. If their relationship was ever discovered, Eijirou’s head would be on the chopping block for sure.
In an attempt to distract himself, Kirishima turned to the mirror behind the bar and checked his hair. He’d be the first to admit that his appearance was pretty intimidating. Instead of slicking back his hair in keeping with the current fashion for men, Eijirou let it grow down past his chin and then used gel to make it stand up in several spikes. If that wasn’t enough, he’d also asked his childhood friend, Mina Ashido to help him dye it an unnatural colour. After a few failed attempts, they’d managed to make it a vibrant red colour. In addition to his unorthodox hairstyle, Kirishima had very pointed teeth. He often got them sharpened into even more prominent points by a dentist that Aizawa had under his thumb. The last menacing feature besides his bulging muscles and towering stature, was a jagged scar over his right eye. Shuddering at the memory of how he’d received it, Eijirou tried to focus on the way Katsuki had taken care of him afterwards, part of the rare softer side of the menacing blond that very few people got to see.
Just as he tried to gather his thoughts and began to contemplate sweeping the floor for the second time, the large green door opened, drawing Kirishima’s attention immediately. Relief flooded through him as a mess of blonde hair appeared out of the darkness beyond the door. There was at least one other person there too, but Kirishima wasn’t too concerned about who they were. Sighing heavily, Eijirou hastily headed behind the bar; ready to pour some much needed drinks for his comrades. “What time do you call this?” he asked, even though his tone betrayed how delighted he was.
When he received no reply other than the soft click of the door closing, Kirishima turned back to face the newcomers. He could tell immediately that his hunch about them running into trouble had been right. Katsuki Bakugou - one of Aizawa’s two section leaders and Kirishima’s direct boss - was hunched over slightly, clutching his abdomen as he shuffled further into the room. His two companions, Denki Kaminari and Hanta Sero also moved gingerly as though they were also injured.
“What happened?” Eijirou asked, trying to sound closer to mildly curious than blind panic. If there’s one thing he’d learnt over the years in the gang, it was that keeping a cool head in a crisis always served to get things right again much faster than giving into his initial instincts, even when it involved one of the people he cared for most in the whole world.
“We got fucking ambushed,” Bakugou replied, leaning heavily on the bar as he plunged his hand into the pocket of his long black coat and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. “We lost 2 men and a shitload of stock that we couldn’t afford to fucking lose.”
Knowing that there was nothing he could say that would make his friends feel better, Eijirou simply poured 4 generous servings of Bakugou’s favourite whiskey in silence. He’d get the full story and learn who it was they’d lost so that he could pay his respects, but right now his comrades needed time to reflect and regroup.
“Aizawa’s going to have our heads on spikes,” Hanta groaned, taking a cigarette from Bakugou and lighting it with a match from his own pocket. “We should have fucking realised that bastard Midoriya would interfere tonight.”
Bristling at the name, Kirishima fought to keep his expression neutral and his worrying thoughts to himself. Midoriya was the second in command of Aizawa’s biggest rival, Toshinori Yagi’s. The two of them had been in competition to control Musutafu’s underground network for longer that Kirishima cared to remember. Lately, the scales were tipping in Yagi’s favour.
“Well if he’s not satisfied by the way we fight, he can send his little golden boy in next time,” Bakugou scoffed before downing his whiskey in one go and motioning for Kirishima to pour him another.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, Kirishima would have laughed. Bakugou had always been jealous of Aizawa’s other adopted son, Hitoshi. Ever since the two of them were kids, they’d battled for their father’s approval. It was clear to everyone else that the older man regarded both of his sons very highly. He’d taught them both the same values and skills and there was very little separating them in terms of physical strength and intelligence. That had never appeased Katsuki’s competitive streak, though. He was constantly in competition with his brother to prove himself as the rightful successor to the man that had raised them both.
Sero didn’t quite have the same restraint as Kirishima and let out a soft chuckle as he exhaled a plume of smoke. “Careful, you know that Denks has a soft spot for your brother - don’t go badmouthing him now…”
A light blush coloured Denki’s cheeks as he attempted to pull the gang’s signature flat cap further over his forehead.
“Tch, go over to his team if you love him that much, Sparky,” Katsuki grumbled, wincing slightly as he pressed a palm to an apparently painful spot on his side.
Kirishima frowned, fights and injuries were all part of the job, but he hated seeing Katsuki in pain. “You need me to take a look at that for you?” he asked, noting the flicker of fear in Bakugou’s eyes as he shook his head in response.
“What about you two?” Eijirou added hastily to Denki and Hanta. “Do either of you have any injuries I can treat before you go home?”
Hanta let out another laugh before downing his drink and stubbing out his cigarette. “Would ya listen to this guy?” He chortled, jabbing a thumb in Kirishima’s direction, “He sits in on a few appointments with the doc and he thinks he can fix us all up.”
Denki returned the lighthearted chuckle, even though it obviously caused him a bit of pain if the uncomfortable expression on his face was anything to go by. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a couple of bruised ribs…” he mused out loud, “I’ve survived a lot worse.”
“Yeah, my injuries aren’t anything that a nice massage from my wife won’t cure,” Hanta sighed, straightening up and adjusting his dark grey cap.
“Isn’t she pregnant?” Denki enquired, raising an eyebrow as he too readied himself to leave.
Hanta adopted a pretty smug smile as he nodded. “Yeah, baby number 3 is well on his way.”
“What makes you sure this one will be a boy?” Eijirou asked. “You’re not still going to that ‘fortune teller’ are you?”
Denki yawned loudly to state how bored of the conversation he was already. “If he wants to waste his money on some old crone who claims to know what his future holds, that’s his business” he shrugged, before turning his attention to Hanta. “Unless she ever says anything about me or the gang, then I expect you to tell me everything!”
Draining his second drink, Bakugou slammed the glass back down on the polished wooden surface of the bar so hard that Eijirou was surprised it didn’t break. “Will you two idiots stop talking nonsense?!” he demanded. “In a matter of hours we’ve lost 2 men and enough alcohol to fill a small cargo ship! If all you two can do after all of that is joke around then I chose the wrong people to have my back!”
Despite Katsuki’s explosive temper, Eijirou often saw glimpses of the determined, intelligent and caring man that hid beneath the bravado. Sure, he commanded attention from the moment he entered a room and his bite could most definitely be as bad (if not worse than) his bark. Yet, everything he did and said had a purpose and more of them than not, that purpose wasn’t something that benighted him. These days, he was at his angriest when the people around him started letting themselves and the gang down. That was one of the many things about Katsuki that Eijirou was attracted to.
Kaminari and Sero exchanged a guilty glance as they apologised to Bakugou and promised to see him bright and early in the morning to report to Aizawa.
Kirishima saw them out and locked up the door behind them. He made sure to take his time, knowing that his forbidden instincts would take over now that he was alone with Bakugou.
“That’s very presumptuous of you,” Katsuki huffed, “what makes you think I wasn’t going to follow them right out of that door?”
After sliding the last bolt across the bottom of the door, Eijirou finally turned to face his secret lover. “You’re going to let me take a look at your injuries and bandage you up, Katsu,” he insisted sternly. Now that they were by themselves, he didn’t have to pretend not to care about Bakugou any more than he cared about the others.
“I’m fucking fine, Red!” Katsuki snapped, picking up his empty glass and gesturing towards the full bottle behind the bar. “Just pour me another of these and then I’ll head home and get some rest.”
Kirishima didn’t move. He knew that Katsuki wasn’t used to people refusing to follow his orders but he needed to take care of the blond man; it was the only thing that would make him feel less useless. “Why won’t you let me check you over?” he asked, sighing deeply.
Realising that he wasn’t going to get another glass of booze unless he poured it himself, Katsuki simply leant across the bar, growling in pain as he stretched muscles that weren’t ready to be used so soon after a beating.
“Stop being so fucking stubourn!” Eijirou grumbled, striding back across the room just in time to grab the whisky bottle before Katsuki poured any of its contents into his glass.
The two of the stared at each other for a moment in a silent battle of wills. When it became clear that Bakugou wasn’t going to relinquish his hold on the bottle, Kirishima resorted to dirty tactics and gently placed his free hand on Katsuki’s waist.
The blond man winced and Eijirou took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to confiscate the bottle and place it well out of the injured man’s reach. “You could have broken ribs, Katsu,” he whispered determinedly, “just let me take a look at you, please?”
“We both know what’ll happen the second I start taking my clothes off, Ei,” Katsuki replied, holding Kirishima’s gaze steadily.
Eijirou once again had to stifle a laugh, “Your ego is bigger than ever,” he commented, “I can see a man’s chest without wanting to sleep with him…”
“I’m not just any man though, am I?” Katsuki asked, his tone taking on a lustful note as his body relaxed slightly against the bar. “It wouldn’t be the first time that you bandaging me up ended with us giving your bedframe a workout.”
That much was true; in fact, the two of them ended up in bed together at every given opportunity. It was a dirty little secret that somehow progressed into something involving a lot more feelings than either of them had ever intended.
“I just want to make sure your injuries aren’t more serious than you’re letting on,” Eijirou shrugged, boldly beginning to slide Katsuki’s coat off of his shoulders. “Whether or not you end up bent over my desk in the office afterwards, is entirely up to you.”
An involuntary gasp escaped Katsuki as he tilted his head slightly to give the taller man better access to his lips. “Fine…” he whispered, “check me over if it’ll stop you from hassling me for five minutes,”
Nodding in response, Eijirou helped the blond out of his coat and took off his hat before setting to work on Katsuki’s shirt buttons. “There’s a good boy,” he teased gently.
Instead of putting up some half-hearted attempt at a fight for dominance like he usually did, Katsuki simply hummed contentedly before initiating a tentative kiss.
Eijirou could have made fun of him or taken the opportunity to tease the blond further, but he decided against all of that. Right now, they both needed to be close to one another. As their lips moved together in a slow, familiar rhythm, Kirishima ran his fingers beneath his lover’s open shirt. He traced his fingers over the compact muscles of Katsuki’s chest and slowly dragged them over his apparently sore ribs.
Hissing into the kiss, Katsuki’s body tensed at the sting of Eijirou’s touch, but he didn’t break their connection. If anything, he simply kissed back harder, making Kirishima chuckle. “I always knew you liked a bit of pain mixed with your pleasure, Katsu,” he quipped between increasingly hungry kisses.
“Shut up, shark boy!” Katsuki demanded. “Finish checking me over so that we can move this to your office.”
“That’d be a lot easier if you weren’t trying to eat my face,” Kirishima smirked, pressing his palm against Katsuki’s ribs to check for fractures. Despite another hiss of pain from his lover, Eijirou was satisfied that no immediate medical attention was needed. “I don’t think anything’s broken,” he mused out loud.
“I fucking know that,” Katsuki huffed,. “You don’t think I’m aware of what broken ribs feel like?”
Kirishima soothed the blond by pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “They’re pretty bruised, so I’d still recommend a couple of days rest,” he whispered, “There’s no chance of you following that advice, though, so I’m not gonna waste my breath arguing with you.”
Katsuki melted into the taller man’s hold, “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said in a while.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes as he gently pulled away from his lover and took his hand, “Insulting my intelligence isn’t going to make me satisfy you any faster, Katsu.”
The blond had always been fond of the affectionate shortening of his name. The tiny gesture brought a soft rosy glow to his cheeks and Eijirou knew that tonight wasn’t going to be the frenzied tearing off of clothes that stolen moments together often entail. No, he was going to take his time with Katsuki and make him feel safe.
Picking up his coat and hat on the way, Katsuki allowed Eijirou to lead him behind the bar and through the door which led to a dark, narrow corridor. There were only three doors; the first one was to a set of stairs that led up to a room Eijirou called the conference suite. In reality it was a windowless space with a large wooden table in the centre and a few chairs. Katsuki and his immediate subordinates were the only people that really used it. The second led down to the cellar where all the pub’s stock was kept, but it was the third room that they were aiming for. It led to Eijirou’s small office space - a cosy room with a desk, a comfortable chair and a couple of filing cabinets.
Katsuki flicked on the light as they entered and fixed Eijirou with an expectant stare as he hung his coat and hat on the hook on the back of the door he’d just closed.
“So what’re you in the mood for?” Kirishima asked, gesturing for his lover to come further into the room. “I’d suggest soft and slow since you’re injured, but that’s not really your style, is it?”
To Eijirou’s utter surprise, Katsuki didn’t bite back with some snarky remark about how much of a sap the redhead was. Instead, he dropped his gaze and gave a shallow shrug. “That doesn’t sound so bad, actually.”
It was in that moment that Kirishima realised just how much the night’s events had affected the other man. Bakugou didn’t show his vulnerable side very often at all and when he did it was fleeting and sometimes damn near undetectable. “Hey, Katsu…” the redhead whispered gently, “Why don’t we head back to my place, you can spend the night and I’ll just tell Aizawa you were drunk or something.”
“That excuse is going to get old, really fucking fast, Red,” Katsuki shrugged, “he already suspects something is going on between us, I can tell by the way he looks at me when I tell him where I go after the jobs he sends me on.”
Perhaps that should have panicked Eijirou a bit, but in reality, it was almost a relief. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend that Katsuki was nothing more than a friend. “How do you think he’d react if he found out?” he asked tentatively.
Katsuki gave a shallow shrug as he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist and rested his head on his chest. “I can’t imagine him being happy about it.”
As much as Eijirou was enjoying the tender hug from his lover, he knew that he had to look him in the eye as he asked the next question. Katsuki was a master at masking the seriousness of a situation with his words, but he hadn’t quite learnt how to do that with his expression. “Do you want to end this, Katsu?” he asked quietly, gently urging his lover back a little until their gazes met.
Just as Kirishima expected, Katsuki’s eye betrayed the internal battle raging in his head and chest. “‘Want’ is a dangerous word these days,” he replied finally, “especially for me.”
“You're gonna have to give me a little more than that,” Eijirou insisted, “I never meant to fall for you as hard as I did, but here we fucking are, Katsuki… If you’re done with us then-”
“That’s the whole fucking point, Ei!” Katsuki snapped, “There is no us, not as far as anyone else on this whole damn planet is concerned.”
Slightly confused about how their secret was suddenly an issue, Kirishima took a step back, trying to ready himself for the emotional blow that the blond was gearing up for. “Don’t dance around the point - tell me if this is over or not.”
Katsuki took a long shaky breath, wincing at the pain it caused in his ribs. “I want to be with you, Ei,” he replied simply, “I want to date you, come home to you after a job instead of to the pub, talk to the guys about you and the stupid domestic shit we get up to every day, just like they all do about their girlfriends and wives.”
Eijirou’s heart swelled in his chest, this wasn’t the sort of thing Katsuki talked about. Up to that moment, he’d still be half convinced that Katsuki saw him as nothing more than an amusing pastime.
“But none of it can happen,” Bakugou continued. “It fucking hurts to know that we never have that.”
Without thinking about the consequences, Eijirou pulled Katsuki into the tightest hug he dared to, given the blond’s injuries. “Even if we can’t tell anyone else, we know how special our bond is, right?”
Bakugou once again melted into Eijiou’s hold but the words he whispered brought tears to both their eyes. “I wish that was enough…”
A long silent moment passed before Kirishima mustered the strength to pull away from the embrace. If whatever they had together was ending, he had to make sure it was done fast, otherwise he’d cling on to the tiny last shred of hope forever. “Then leave, Katsuki.” he ordered shakily.
Instead of gathering his things and walking away like Eijirou had expected, Katsuki closed the gap between them and placed a long soft kiss to his lover’s lips. Kirishima was surprised to feel how damp Katsuki’s cheek’s were when he reached up to cradle his face.
“You know the thing that scares me the most, Ei?” the blond asked, resting his forehead against Kirishima’s. Without waiting for an answer he continued, his tone so quiet and tentative that Eijirou almost didn’t recognise it. “It’s knowing that when my times comes, when it’s my cold dead body that hits those damp, filthy pavements…” he took a moment to try and steady himself before finishing what he had to say, “when that happens, the rest of the gang won’t come to you with sombre expressions and comforting words about how brave I was. They won’t compensate you for your loss, or even give you the courtesy of telling you first, because in their eyes, you’re not special to me. They think we’re just friends, so you’ll find out at the same time everyone else does and you’ll have to pretend that’s all you’ve ever deserved.”
Fully aware of the tears leaking from his own eyes now, Eijirou captured Katsuki’s lips. “That’s not going to happen, Katsu,” he reassured gently.
“It will, Ei,” Katsuki replied simply, “it’s what happens to all of us, because this is the path we chose.”
Eijirou shook his head as he took Katsuki’s hand and pressed the blond’s palm to his chest. “Even if you end this now and we spend the rest of our lives fighting off the urge to kiss every time we’re alone,” he explained, “I’ll still be the first to know if the worst happens to you. I’ll know because my heart belongs to you and if you’re not around anymore, it’ll break into a million pieces.”
Bakugou pressed his fingertips into Kirishima’s chest before glancing up to meet his gaze, “Is the offer to stay at your place tonight still on the table?”
Eijirou nodded, still unsure whether this meant that their relationship was over. All he did know, is that he’d treasure every second he had with Katsuki until he figured out a way that the could be together the way Katsuki had described - like every other couple he knew.
