Happy Pride Month everybody!!! I'm kicking it off with my fics for KRBK Fluff Week 2025! Starting with today's prompt, pet names/I love you, enjoy! <3
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Eijirou was puzzling over English conjugations when Bakugou poked him on the shoulder.
He jolted at the contact, and he paused to look up at his friend; he was already watching him, expression unreadable. “What’s up? Did I get one wrong?” He scanned his worksheet for an incorrect answer, not that he’d be able to find it on his own. English was a convoluted language, it didn’t make sense half the time, and it sucked that it was the most widely known language and thus crucial for their work as heroes.
He looked back at Bakugou in time to see him waving him off as he went back to his own worksheet. “Nah, you’re fine.”
Eijirou blinked. “Okay…so why’d you poke me?”
Bakugou shrugged. “Just felt like it.” He glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “Got a problem with it?”
“No way, man, not at all! Was just curious, that’s all.” He sent Bakugou his most disarming smile, and the blond only squinted at it before huffing and going back to work.
Eijirou’s smile lingered as he went back to his own homework. Bakugou was a strange guy, awkward around friendship and generally anything that didn’t have to do with explodokilling. If the poking was his way to try and reach out in a non-aggressive way, then Eijirou wouldn’t fight him on it. In fact, he felt honored that Bakugou cared about him enough to give him friendship pokes!
It made Eijirou reach out to lightly prod Bakugou’s arm. At his questioning look, Eijirou grinned. “Just felt like it,” he mimicked.
“Idiot,” Bakugou muttered with a shake of his head.
Eijirou went back to his work, missing the color starting to bloom on the tips of Bakugou’s ears.
~
They kept happening.
At school or in the dorms, during the walk to class or after a long day of hero training, Eijirou would feel a finger poke him somewhere on his body, out of the blue a lot of the time. Sometimes Eijirou could just be laughing with the rest of the squad as they ate lunch, and there’d be a poke to his thigh under the table, Bakugou still focused on his own food when Eijirou would glance over. Or Eijirou would smile broadly at Bakugou at the end of a study session, and he would stare before poking the apple of his cheek. Just little moments, discrete, private between them, and every time Eijirou’s heart would warm, and he’d poke back.
He got a lot of pokes the night he got back from the raid. Huddled in his room, wanting to be alone but welcoming Bakugou’s silent presence, because even if he was curious about what went down, he knew better than to bombard Eijirou about it. He just sat sentry by Eijirou’s form bundled under the blankets, silent and still, until a finger prodded his knee.
Eijirou peeled the blankets away from his face to squint through the dark at Bakugou. “What?” he croaked, voice scratchy from disuse.
Bakugou didn’t say anything, just poked his thigh, then his hip. It tickled through the covers as he prodded his ribs and stomach, and his touch was featherlight against the razor-thin scars along Eijirou’s arms, not like they were fragile but something precious to be treasured and cared for. He finished with his finger against Eijirou’s forehead, staying there.
He looked past the hand to Bakugou’s face; he wore a determined scowl, but it was softer than the ones he wore during battle, his eyebrows pinched and lips almost pouting. Was he worried?
“You’re okay,” he whispered, another poke to his forehead punctuating the statement. “You made it.” Another poke, then he pulled away.
Eijirou stared, only looking away when his breaths came out as hiccups, his cheeks became soaked, and the heavy weight clenching around his heart released for the first time in days.
He didn’t get Bakugou’s poking habit at all, but it was just another thing that made Eijirou fall deeper for the explosive boy.
~
“I like you, Bakugou.”
Bakugou froze, whipped his head up to look at Eijirou with wide eyes. “Hah?”
Eijirou couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze, instead keeping his eyes on the manga in his lap, his thumb and finger worrying the corner of the page. “It might be more than like at this point,” he chuckled. “But I wanted you to know. I was also wondering if you’d want to go out with me? Maybe? Like on a date?”
Silence. Bakugou didn’t move; Eijirou wasn’t sure if he was even still breathing. But then the bed creaked, and a finger prodded the hollow of his cheek.
Eijirou looked over; Bakugou’s entire face was red, as were his ears, a sharp contrast against the ash blond strands they were tucked in between. Eijirou bit back a grin as he poked one. “You’re blushing, bro.”
“No shit, you just confessed,” Bakugou grit out, sounding more embarrassed than angry. And he hadn’t said no yet.
So Eijirou let his smile grow. “Sorry I sprung it on you.”
“Whatever.” Bakugou looked pouty now. “Just don’t get how you said it so easily.”
Eijirou rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while if that helps. Would also like an answer on it too…”
Bakugou opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and when no noise came out he poked Eijirou on the shoulder, bordering aggressive.
Still endearing, no less confusing. “Alright man, why do you keep poking me?” he finally asked. “Is it a friend thing?” Eijirou’s heart plummeted into his stomach then, his blood running cold. “Are you saying no…?”
“No!” Bakugou rushed to respond, and Eijirou’s heart soared back into place. “I’m not saying no.” Bakugou’s face turned even darker. “It’s not a friend thing either.”
“Oh. Then, what is it?”
Bakugou ran his hands through his hair, down his face, and after groaning into them for a solid five seconds he blurted, “I fucking like you too! Like a shit ton! But I’m shit at feelings so I just-” He jabbed Eijirou again in his chest.
Eijirou stared at the spot he poked, eyes growing wider with the increasing blush on his face.
Bakugou’s been poking him because he likes him.
He’s been giving him love pokes.
For months.
And Eijirou’s been reciprocating without even knowing. Before he had even reciprocated the feelings in the first place.
“Why the fuck are you crying???”
“Because you’ve loved me for so long and I didn’t know!” The manga was abandoned as he tackled Bakugou to the bed, ignoring his yelling and popping hands as he squeezed him into a tight hug. “Katsukiiiii!”
Bakugou’s mouth and hands fell silent. “...Eijirou,” tentative yet hopeful.
Eijirou squeezed him tighter, enough to make him wheeze.
“Jesus fucking christ knock it off, I get it already!”
Yet Eijirou didn’t miss the light poke to his back.
Eijirou sat up, their positions from the tackle making him straddle Katsuki’s waist now, but he didn’t care as he poked his stomach, then his arm, then his cheek, and more and more across his face and torso until Katsuki was yelling but laughing, Eijirou laughing along with him and his heart feeling so, so full.
I'm back with my fic for KRBK Fluff Week 2025 day 3, kisses/holding hands! Enjoy! :D
~
It has to be you, Kirishima.
Even as Midoriya continued to explain his plan, even as they moved to set it into action, that sentence continued to loop in Eijirou’s head. It felt like an affirmation, not just for this very moment, but for everything that’s happened over the last few days, tying it all together with an orange-tinted thread.
It had to be Kirishima to beg the teachers to let them fight, because he’s stood idly by enough times in his life.
It had to be Kirishima to lay restless in bed when he got home, unable to even hope for an ounce of sleep when his best friend didn’t get to have that luxury, not when he didn’t have the safety to do so.
It had to be Kirishima to enact the plan with Todoroki, to convince Midoriya and Yaoyorozu to tag along to make this night a success.
It had to be Kirishima to be braced in Midoriya and Iida’s grasps, the draw of their power thrumming around him like a hopeful heartbeat to egg him on, to push him to be the sturdy rock that protected them as they launched into the night sky, to reach his hand down to the one person who needed protecting the most.
He could’ve cried when it was him that made Bakugou blast up to them without hesitation, his grin matching the one that threatened to tear Eijirou’s face in half, it was so wide, as sweaty palm met sweaty palm.
Eijirou had been nervous as hell as the night progressed, exploding from bad to worse with that new villain’s entrance, but it had to be him to make use of that slim window of time they’d found to get Bakugou out of there.
And it had to be him to keep holding onto Bakugou’s hand once they were back on the ground and far away from the action.
“Oi, we’re done, lemme go.” Bakugou tugged against Eijirou’s grip, but it wasn’t as strong as it could’ve been, not by a long shot. A half-hearted attempt at best. And Eijirou picked up the minute tremors in the blond’s hand. Whether a remnant of his stunt to get to them a minute ago, the exhaustion, hunger, and thirst Bakugou likely felt, or well-hidden fear, Eijirou didn’t know.
What he did know was that he wanted to be Bakugou’s grounding rock, so he held on tighter. “We should get going to meet back with the others, yeah?” Eijirou suggested, gesturing in the direction Midoriya and Iida had started walking.
Bakugou’s eyes flicked past him to look where he was pointing before looking back at Eijirou, eyes searching. Searching for what, Eijirou didn’t know, but he just smiled at him and tilted his head, waiting. He had nothing to hide, after all. Not from him.
Eventually Bakugou huffed and looked away. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” he grumbled, none of his usual bite present in his voice. He stalked past Eijirou, tugging him after him with the firm grip on his hand.
They never let go for the rest of the night.
Not while they watched All Might’s last stand on the jumbotrons in the city proper (Bakugou’s grip had tightened to an almost dangerous degree during the fight, but Eijirou was sturdy, he could take it.)
Not during the train ride back to Musutafu in the early dawn, where Bakugou had finally had the peace to doze off against Eijirou’s shoulder, even if it was just for five minutes.
And not during the hours that they sat at the police station, Eijirou silent support during all the times that Bakugou was questioned and checked on by the officers on staff.
(He honestly hadn’t expected Bakugou to want to keep holding his hand by that point. He even tried to pull away as they went to hand Bakugou over to the police—Eijirou had snuck out of home and his moms were probably worried sick, he should at least call them—but Bakugou had just held on tighter and looked resolutely forward as he dragged Eijirou into the station.
Eijirou didn’t complain. He just waved at Midoriya and the others as the door shut behind him.
It gave Detective Tsukauchi a chance to question Eijirou on his side of events, too. Maybe he should feel guilty about admitting to leading a charge to break who knows how many laws last night, and he did a little bit, but the hand in his grasp, warm and sweaty but alive, made him not regret his actions in the slightest.)
It wasn’t until Eijirou and Bakugou were cleared to leave around noon, both of their parents already outside and waiting to take them home, that they finally separated.
It almost seemed like Bakugou was trying to draw the contact out, tugging him along to where his mom and dad were waiting for him by their car. Bakugou’s face pinched as he looked down at their hands, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or if he should, but instead he slipped his hand out of Eijirou’s, his index finger catching Eijirou’s pinkie for a brief moment before the connection was severed completely. “I’ll see you at school, or whatever,” he muttered.
“Yeah.” Eijirou’s hand was cold, bereft, the nitro on his palm drying quickly. He clapped Bakugou on the shoulder, squeezing gently, the loss abated slightly. “Get some rest, man. I’ll text you later.”
Bakugou didn’t even tell him not to like he usually would, just nodded before pulling away from Eijirou and climbing into the backseat, shutting the door behind him. Eijirou kept his eyes on that spiky head through the window until his car was out of sight. Only then did he move to go home himself.
His moms were gracious enough to not fuss at him for the entire three-hour drive back to Chiba, only the first fifteen minutes or so of it. Eventually they lapsed into silence after making sure that Eijirou had made it out unscathed, and as the chaos of the last twenty-four hours—the last three days, really—finally ended and the exhaustion started to cling to the corners of Eijirou’s brain, his eyes fell to his hand.
The nitro was still there, even if he couldn’t see it. A part of his brain knew that it was dangerous, that he should wash it off as soon as possible, but the rest of him didn’t care. He’d douse his entire body in nitroglycerin if it meant he could hold Bakugou’s hand, or hold him in general. To wrap him up in his arms, to be the barrier between his best friend and everything that sought to hurt him, to calm the tremors that wracked his body, to soothe and stay at Bakugou’s side and be wanted at his side.
With the end of the chaos and the peace of mind that Bakugou was finally safe, the truth came to Eijirou calmly, suddenly but not surprising, the last knot tied into place.
New fic!! For KRBK Fluff Week 2025 day 7: first date/proposal. Enjoy!
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“Did you have a good time?” Eijirou asked as they walked back to the dorms. The sun had set a while ago, more and more stars filling the blue-black sky as it got closer to curfew.
Katsuki hummed as he nodded. A finger poked Eijirou’s wrist before their fingers laced together, making Eijirou grin and squeeze their hands, his heart fluttering in his chest.
After his and Katsuki’s mutual confession the week before, they had decided to keep their first date simple with dinner out at one of their favorite ramen booths before going to see a movie. Maybe it was no different from what they had done before the confessions, when they thought only platonic feelings were between them, but Eijirou didn’t care to do anything huge for their first date.
Had he imagined one day taking Katsuki out for the most amazing night the other boy had ever had? Of course. Eijirou was a romantic at heart and so down bad for his best friend, he’s had countless fantasies about how this night would go.
As he looked over at Katsuki though, taking in the softness of his expression, free of his usual scowl, his eyes reflecting the stars above and glowing in the passing streetlamps, Eijirou found himself not caring that the night could be considered lackluster to others. Katsuki still met his eyes with a smile of his own, his cheeks tinting pink as the eye contact lingered.
No matter how their first date had gone, Eijirou was just glad that it was with Katsuki.
“I really did have fun,” Katsuki affirmed, like he wanted Eijirou to be sure that he was serious.
“Yeah? I’m glad, man.” Eijirou unconsciously swung their hands, and it made Katsuki swing them even harder as he grinned until they were practically making pinwheels and Eijirou was laughing, even if his shoulder ached from the motion.
He had to release Katsuki’s hand eventually, switching to sling his arm around his shoulders and tug Katsuki into his side, reveling at how he came easily. “We should do this again sometime. There’s a teppanyaki place that Fat told me about, they apparently have the best grilled meat.”
“Yeah? We can go if you pass your English test next week.”
“C’mon man, are you gonna make all of our dates hinge on my grades?” Eijirou whined.
Katsuki smirked. “Considering you finished your homework in record time before this one, I’d say dates are the perfect motivator to get your grades up.”
Eijirou pouted. It wasn’t his fault that Katsuki said he wasn’t going to go if Eijirou didn’t finish! He’s been wanting to go out with Katsuki for ages, he wasn’t going to let a mere worksheet keep him from achieving that dream.
“Hey, c’mon, I’m kidding.” Katsuki poked his cheek, both to clear away the pout and as a silent I love you; it immediately made Eijirou smile, and it drew out one of Katsuki’s own. “We can go to the teppanyaki joint even if you fail. You fucking better try your best, though.”
“I will!” Eijirou gave a mock salute with his free hand, making Katsuki snort.
“Dummy.”
“You love this dummy.”
Katsuki’s arm looping around his waist in turn and the poke to his hip were answer enough.
They lapsed into silence, the walk peaceful and the spring air calm and cool, but Katsuki broke it as UA came into view at the top of the hill. “I wanna give you something.”
“What is it?” Eijirou grinned excitedly. “A first date gift??”
Katsuki huffed, amused. “Something like that.” He pulled away to dig something out of his pocket, tossing it to Eijirou.
He caught it easily, but his eyebrows immediately scrunched in confusion when he saw what it was. A little velvet jewelry box. Curiosity had him flipping it open, only to freeze.
Inside, cushioned on a little red pillow, was a ring. Its design was simple, and the silver metal gleamed under the streetlights.
Eijirou stared at it for a long moment before looking up at Katsuki. He somehow looked completely normal despite the fact that he had gifted Eijirou a fucking ring. “Dude?”
Katsuki watched him evenly. “Wanna get married?”
“Wh-What?!” Late-night walkers further down the sidewalk jumped at Eijirou’s outburst, but he didn’t care as he stared at Katsuki with wide eyes.
He couldn’t actually be serious. Was this a joke?
Judging by how Katsuki’s expression broke into something insecure, his eyes dropping away from Eijirou and his shoulders hunching as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, he was very, very serious. “We don’t fucking have to. I can take the ring back, just forget I asked-”
“NO!” Eijirou held the box away from Katsuki’s reaching hand, and it was his friend’s turn to look startled, and confused. “I mean, yes- I mean-” Eijirou forced himself to stop and suck in the deepest breath he could manage, slowly letting it out. It helped to slow down his racing heart, just a bit.
Katsuki really was serious about this. The ring was really pretty too. How much had it cost? Had he gotten it within the last week, or had he been planning this for longer? He’d loved Eijirou for longer than he could say aloud, so the chances that he’d been sitting on this were pretty high.
But more importantly, “You do know we’re only in second year, right?”
Katsuki glared, even as his ears darkened. “Obviously, I’m not a moron.”
Eijirou smiled crookedly. “Never said you were. Just wanna make sure you know that we can’t actually get married anytime soon.”
“I know that. Not gonna stop me from fucking asking.” Katsuki ducked his head and rubbed his neck, but it did nothing to hide the growing blush on his face. “No point in waiting to ask if I already know you’re it for me. We don’t gotta make anything official now, or ever. I just want you to be mine.”
Oh man. Eijirou’s eyes stung, blond and red blurring into the twilight as the moisture grew. He only took a second to stuff the ring in his own pocket before launching himself at Katsuki and squeezing him in the tightest hug he could manage. “Katsukiiiii that was so manly!” he warbled into the crook of his neck.
“I barely fucking said anything, how the hell was that manly?” he grumbled. He still looped his arms around Eijirou, holding him close. “But is that a yes…?”
“Is that a- dude!” Eijirou pulled back to look him in the eye, smiling broadly at Katsuki’s flustered confusion. Gods he was cute. “You, the Bakugou Katsuki, just asked to marry me, of course it’s a yes! I’m literally gonna have the best husband ever!”
Katsuki smirked, all cocky and triumphant, and Eijirou held onto his shoulders tighter to keep from swooning. “Damn right I’m the best.” Then he tugged Eijirou closer, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as Katsuki kissed him right on the lips. It was a quick little peck, too quick, before he was pulling back. “Nothing compared to you, though,” he said, softer this time. He pecked his lips again before worming out of Eijirou’s arms and continuing to walk, leaving Eijirou sputtering. “C’mon, we gotta get back before Aizawa grounds us for the next month.”
“You- you can’t just kiss and run!” Eijirou jogged to catch up, intent on getting a longer kiss, but Katsuki dodged and took off at a sprint toward the school with a cackle.
“Fucking watch me!”
Eijirou huffed, talking off after him. His best friend- boyfriend- fiance- was an asshole sometimes.
My final KRBK Fluff Week 2025 fic and also my fave! For days 2+10: clingy/sappy + driving/late night talks. Enjoy! <3
~
“Alright big guy, let’s get you home.”
Kirishima was practically a dead weight as Katsuki walked him to his car. Not because he was passed out. No, the drunk idiot had decided to drape his entire weight across Katsuki’s back as soon as they stepped out of the izakaya, leaving Katsuki to half-carry half-drag the other man down the block in a bastard’s piggy back ride.
The redhead had his head tucked into Katsuki’s neck, his breath hot and wet against his skin and making heat crawl up to his face, and the scent of alcohol stung at his nose as they walked. Kirishima’s arms were lazily looped around his shoulders, and his stumbling steps almost tripped Katsuki up multiple times.
It was frankly a miracle that they made it to the car without incident. “Remind me to not take you to a fucking izakaya anytime soon,” Katsuki grunted as he hauled Kirishima into the passenger seat.
Kirishima’s head lolled to look up at him, eyes glassy like he was about to cry. Ah shit. “I can’t see m’friends?”
Katsuki huffed and pat his cheek, and for some reason that alone was enough to draw a big smile out of him. Stupid drunk rockhead and his rollercoaster emotions. “You can see them all ya want, just do it during lunch so you can’t get wasted. Now turn around and buckle up.”
He waited for Kirishima to shuffle fully into his seat so he could shut his door and go around to the driver’s side.
Kirishima was not, in fact, buckled in by the time Katsuki got into his seat, instead slumped against the window and looking on the verge of passing out. Katsuki reached across to buckle him in himself, and he got a drowsy smile in return. “So manly, Baku, always lookin’ out for me.”
“Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t bash your head on my dash.” He got himself settled and started up the car, starting the drive home. The izakaya the rest of the squad had picked wasn’t too far, just a fifteen-minute drive across town, then Katsuki could get some water into Kirishima to help stem the inevitable hangover in the morning.
“‘M not gonna hurt myself on th’ dash, Bakubro. Got a hard head.” The unmistakable sound of rock on rock followed that statement. Dumbass probably knocked on his own head.
Katsuki snorted. “You’re definitely hard-headed.”
“Not like thaaaaat.” A heavy weight suddenly landed on Katsuki’s shoulder, making him jolt. A peek out of the corner of his eye showed Kirishima slumped on his shoulder, shaking his head, before he nestled his face into Katsuki’s jacket sleeve. “Yer ma best bro in the whoooooole world but yer also a grumpy meanie.”
“Sounds like a you problem, you knew that up front.”
“I diiiid.” Kirishima snuggled deeper into his shoulder. “Yer sooooo nice now, even if you don’ wanna admit it. ‘S why yer the best.”
Katsuki fought back a smile. It was like Kirishima’s encouraging attitude was dialed up to being downright sappy under the effects of alcohol. It was pretty cute.
“We should totally get married, Kats.”
Katsuki’s hand slipped off the wheel in the middle of the turn, almost making him drive up onto the sidewalk. He caught it just in time, narrowly avoiding a pedestrian and righting himself in the lane. By the angry expression and gestures, Katsuki was sure the guy was cussing him out, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as the rapid beat of his heart pounded in his ears, drowning everything else out. Fuck he felt hot, and his hands were slick against the steering wheel cover.
Kats.
Married.
He tried for an amused huff to defuse the tension from Kirishima’s frankly out of left field statement, but it came out weak. They weren’t even dating! “You called me mean and now you wanna marry me? The hell’s up with that, hah?”
Kirishima didn’t even seem aware of the tension at all as he stayed slumped against Katsuki’s stiff shoulder. His hand not squished between them drew lazy patterns across Katsuki’s thigh, his touch prickly through his jeans. “Yeah, but yer not always mean to me. You think yer sooooo good at hidin’ how much of a softy you are t’me but I can see it all. I got a degree in…in…in Katsuki-nomics!” He giggled into his jacket, clearly proud of the dumb joke. It only made Katsuki’s face burn more.
He liked the sound of his name on Kirishima’s tongue way too damn much. Too much to deal with while he was fucking driving.
He glanced at the clock. Only three minutes had passed since they’d left the izakaya.
“But can we get married?” Kirishima asked once his laughter petered out, and Jesus fuck this was gonna be a long drive. “There’s a ring that I’ve been lookin’ at for months, it’d go sooooo well with yer eyes. Really make the red pop.” He made a little explosion motion with his hand next to his own eyes. “Ya gotta pretend m’not askin’ now though! I got a whole plan for how I’m gonna ask, Mina thinks it’s awesome.”
And he just kept talking, rambling about how he’d take Katsuki out to his favorite restaurant, a place they had found on a whim on one of their off days that had Korean-style barbecue that was spicy enough to make Katsuki’s tongue tingle in all the right ways. In the middle of dinner Kirishima would bring out this super awesome ring and say a speech that he’s had memorized for weeks about how much he loved Katsuki and wanted him in his life, but in his drunken state he couldn’t even hope to recite it properly without tripping over himself.
And all the while, Kirishima was oblivious to the white-knuckled grip Katsuki had on the steering wheel, as well as the heat likely rolling off of him in waves from how hot he felt. He kept his eyes on the road, counting down the minutes until their apartment building came into view and hoping all the sweat collecting on his palms didn’t blow up his brand new car before then.
He’s so glad he sprung for the warranty.
“-and I’m thinkin’ a fall wedding, so it won’t be too cold for ya and it’ll match our colors, it’ll be so cool. I could ask yer mom to make us suits, although you’d look amazing in anything, even if you wore a garbage bag-”
Katsuki hadn’t had a single inkling of a clue that Kirishima liked him that way. Was Kirishima sappy and clingy with him a lot? Sure, but he’s been like that ever since they met. Katsuki had just chalked it up to Kirishima being Kirishima.
Unless he was sappy and clingy because of his feelings.
Nine years of liking Katsuki—loving him. Nine years of keeping it all bottled up, content with their friendship, up until one too many drinks uncorked the plug and let everything spill out.
He sighed with relief when they finally made it back in one piece (he did almost lose his front bumper from clipping the curb after Kirishima tried to give a rendition of his wedding vows, though).
Somehow he was still talking as Katsuki unloaded him from the car, and he didn’t hesitate to drape himself across Katsuki’s back again as they headed inside the building and up to their floor.
“‘M not sure where we’d go for our honeymoon yet,” Kirishima was saying as he nuzzled into Katsuki’s hair, his inhale almost making Katsuki drop his keys as he unlocked the door. “Love yer quirk, makes ya smell good, like a sweet fireplace,” he mumbled into the strands. “But don’t worry about the honeymoon man, I know sex ain’t yer thing so m’not gonna make you do any of that, even if yer hot. Would one-hundo percent tap that if you let me-”
“Okay!” Katsuki wormed out of Kirishima’s grasp once they finally—fucking finally—got into their apartment, heart twisting at Kirishima’s whines and grabby hands as he did but valiantly ignoring them. He toed off his shoes and nudged them aside, then crouched to help Kirishima out of his before herding him out of the genkan. “You will not be tapping a single goddamn thing. You’re gonna drink some water, change out of those clothes because I know you spilled one of your drinks on you, and you’re taking your ass to bed.” He gave Kirishima a nudge toward the bedrooms. “Hop to it.”
“Okay…” Katsuki watched Kirishima stumble into his room before going to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and hunt down something light for him to eat to curb his hangover some.
It also gave him a moment to splash cold water from the sink across his flaming face. The silence was a goddamn blessing. Katsuki didn’t know how much more of their wedding plans he could handle listening to.
Minutes later and water and crackers in hand he pushed open Kirishima’s door, only to stop in the doorway. The clothes he’d been wearing that night sat in a heap on the floor, not quite making it into his hamper, and his dresser drawer was still open from getting clothes, but the bed was empty. Where did he go?
Then he heard a bed creak.
Katsuki’s bed.
Sure enough, pushing open his own door revealed a lump under his blankets, and Katsuki stared, unimpressed. “What the hell are you doing.”
The lump shifted and Kirishima poked his head out, and oh shit, those were his puppy eyes, dialed to a thousand higher than they normally were. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
Katsuki was caving before he finished asking. “You better not try anything, fuckface.”
Kirishima rapidly shook his head, hard enough to shake out the last of his falling spikes that had still been standing after the long night. “I’d never! Tha’s not manly, Katsuki!”
Katsuki nodded, his heart flipping at his given name being used again, and he went over and gave him the water and crackers. “Eat up. If you spill anything in my bed I’ll kill you.”
Kirishima rapidly nodded again as he sat up to accept them. “I won’t!”
Dumbass. Cute dumbass.
Katsuki bit back a smile as he turned to get his own sleep clothes and go to the bathroom.
Kirishima was laying down again by the time Katsuki came back, head exposed and eyes sparkling when he saw Katsuki as if he’d been gone for five years instead of five minutes. Katsuki rolled his eyes as he approached the bed, and he only had enough time to flick off the bedside lamp before a warm hand was grabbing his and yanking him down to the mattress. He grunted as he landed, the noise muffled by the bare chest he was tugged into, sweatpant-clad legs tangling with his own under the covers. Sweat, alcohol, and remnants of cedar body wash filled Katsuki’s nose, cloying in his throat. “Kirishima, wha-”
“Call me Eijirou?” he asked softly, his face in his hair again. “Been wanting you to call me that for a long time.”
And Katsuki’s wanted to call him that for a long time. “Eijirou.” The name hung off his tongue like it belonged there, and Katsuki didn’t have a reason to refute that. “You need to sleep.”
Kirishima hummed, settling deeper into the mattress and hugging Katsuki closer, and not even a minute later he was snoring into his ear.
Relative peace, if it weren’t for Katsuki’s mind racing as he stared unseeing at Kirishima’s bare chest. Now still, the last half hour rotated at mach speed in his brain, making his face grow progressively warmer as he recounted everything Kirishima had said. It was a lot, nothing Katsuki had ever expected Kirishima to say, let alone when he was shit-faced. But at the same time, he didn’t hate it, at all.
Tentatively, he snaked his arms around Kirishima’s torso, holding him back. Kirishima squeezed him tighter in his sleep.
Katsuki grinned as he closed his eyes. He had to hand it to the guy, he knew how to plan a hell of a wedding.
~
The curtains over the window were blessedly closed when Eijirou blinked awake the next morning. Just the bit of light that filtered through the fabric was enough to make his eyes ache, so he was glad for the mercy.
He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember what it meant to be awake, before turning his head to reach for his phone on the bedside table. He paused when his eyes landed on the lamp.
That…that was Bakugou’s lamp. What was his doing in Bakugou’s room?
His brain immediately jumped to the absolute worst possibility, and he jerked upright, flipping the blankets off of him, only to stop short when the worst headache he’s ever had slammed into his skull. He hunched over with a moan, cupping his hands over his face to block out the rest of the light and fight back his rising nausea.
Fuck hangovers. Fuck alcohol. He wasn’t drinking again for the next decade at least.
He peeled his hands away from his eyes once he felt like he wouldn’t keel over and puke at any second, and he looked around the bedroom. No clothes strewn about the room, and Eijirou’s own sweats and boxers were still where they were supposed to be on his body. No other wayward messes. No evidence of anything suspicious happening the night before.
Eijirou sighed with relief. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he had done that to Bakugou.
He did see a full glass of water left on the bedside table, along with a bottle of pain killers, and Eijirou could’ve cried.
Man, he loved Bakugou so much.
Water and medicine consumed, the scent of breakfast greeted Eijirou when he stumbled out of the bedroom. He followed it hungrily, finding a covered plate of food and another glass of water waiting for him at the dining table. Bakugou sat in the opposite chair, scrolling on his phone and sipping a cup of coffee, but he looked up when Eijirou came in. “How ya feeling?”
“Like a building collapsed on me.” Eijirou collapsed into his chair, gratefully drinking the water. “Can we go bowling or something for the next squad hangout? That feels safer.”
“Told ya not to drink so much, but nooooo, you didn’t listen, like a dumbass.”
“I’ll definitely listen next time.” Eijirou rubbed his forehead, the headache fortunately starting to fade. “Do not want a repeat of that.”
Bakugou cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean you don’t wanna tell me your proposal plans again?”
Eijirou froze where he was moving to uncover his food, and he looked back up at Katsuki. “Huh…?”
Bakugou was trying and failing to fight back a smirk. “Oh, right, you told me to forget you told me that. Not a bad plan though, can’t wait to see it in action. Fall wedding ain’t a bad idea either, and I’m sure my mom would be stoked to make our suits.”
And Bakugou just kept talking about imaginary wedding plans that Eijirou’s had rotating in his head for years at this point, that Bakugou definitely shouldn’t know about, all while Eijirou’s face grew warmer and warmer.
Got a little impatient, so here's my next KRBK Fluff Week 2025 fic for day 6: matching/sharing clothes. Enjoy! <3
~
“THEY’RE HERE!”
The shout coupled with the apartment door slamming against the wall as it was kicked open startled Katsuki and Queenie out of what had been a peaceful afternoon of reading and dozing, respectively, on the living room couch.
Their poor cat was nothing more than a black blur as she scurried off to some hidden corner of the apartment, while Katsuki righted himself from his frightened flail and swiped up his fallen book as he shot a glare strong enough to melt steel at the giddy dumbass he called a boyfriend standing in the genkan, cardboard box in hand. “Jesus fuck, are you trying to make me need another heart surgery?” It was racing so fast he could barely make out the individual beats.
Eijirou’s excitement didn’t dim in the slightest, but he at least had the decency to look apologetic, smile turning sheepish. “Sorry babe, but look!” Door closed at a more acceptable volume and shoes kicked off, Eijirou hurried over and dropped the box into Katsuki’s lap where he was now sitting up on the couch.
Frowning, Katsuki read the shipping label, before his eyes widened and he looked back up at Eijirou. “No way.”
Eijirou nodded, sharp teeth biting on his bottom lip as he vibrated, he was so excited. “Yes way!” He held up a hand, wiggling his slightly hardened fingers. “What do you say we bust out these bad boys?”
“I say, why the hell didn’t you open it sooner??” Katsuki grabbed Eijirou’s hand to slice through the packing tape, hardened skin handling it with ease. Packing paper tossed aside (likely to be claimed by Queenie as her toy of the day), he was met with the back of a neatly-folded letterman-style jacket wrapped in a plastic bag, with Dynamight stitched into the fabric with orange, green, and white thread in a dynamic font, set above the graphic of a red gear merged with an explosion.
Katsuki gingerly took the jacket out of the box and removed the plastic, a smile growing as he ran his fingers over the graphic. They’ve been working on getting these jackets for months. Between he and Eijirou figuring out the design, to hiring somebody to properly draw it out, to working with Katsuki’s parents to find a good manufacturer, to going through proof after proof, it was a long journey to get the final product in their hands.
But it had all been worth it. The graphic—now the logo of their agency—came out perfectly, not a single stitch out of place. The entire jacket looked pristine as Katsuki unfolded it all the way and held it up, the weight perfect, the buttons on the front shiny and new, and even the little logo over the left breast looked perfect.
“Holy shit,” Eijirou breathed, and Katsuki lowered his jacket to see his boyfriend staring down at his own—Katsuki hadn’t even noticed him take the box from him. Eijirou’s jacket was identical aside from the Red Riot stitched onto the back in red, black, and white, the font exploding out like a rock being smashed to pieces, embodying Eijirou’s quirk where Katsuki’s embodied his own.
Eijirou’s eyes were wide and glassy as he stared at it, one hand trailing over his hero name while the other was cupped over his mouth. Clearly on the verge of tears.
Katsuki nudged him in the side, meeting those glassy eyes with a proud grin. “You deserve it, Ei.”
The hand lowered from his mouth to reveal a wobbly smile, even as a couple tears finally slipped down his cheeks. Katsuki reached over to swipe away the moisture with his thumb, then tugged him closer to kiss his forehead. “Try it on, yeah?”
Eijirou sniffed and nodded, wiping away the rest of his tears as his smile grew. “You gotta try yours on, too.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”
They were a perfect fit, not too loose or snug, and Katsuki couldn’t help posting a selfie of the two of them wearing them, not so subtly bragging that they were the only ones in existence and ignoring the whines from fans for more.
(Maybe they could get more made. Later. He’d bask in the exclusivity for now.)
~
It was another off day, Eijirou eating breakfast in their kitchen alone, Katsuki having gotten up earlier to go run errands—even when he didn’t work the guy didn’t know how to rest—when Eijirou’s phone started pinging. A lot.
He blinked mid-bite of bacon at the device vibrating and pinging away on the table next to him. It looked like social media mentions, on every platform Red Riot had an official account, with seemingly dozens—maybe even hundreds of people—tagging him in something.
Katsuki was right, he really did need to turn off his social media notifications. This was ridiculous.
His text chime filtered through then, a message from Kaminari above the mess of whatever was happening on his socials.
Eijirou swiped that open first, eyebrows immediately furrowing at the message: dude Blasty looks like he’s gonna fist fight all of your fans 😂🫡
What? Eijirou swiped down and hit the first notification his thumb landed on, and it opened to a post with a picture of Katsuki, posted only a handful of minutes ago.
He was facing away from the camera, grocery bags in from one hand while the other flipped off the photographer over his shoulder as he sent them a glare. Definitely a perfect storm of a PR nightmare, but that wasn’t what made Eijirou’s face progressively get hotter the longer he stared at the image.
No, the culprit was the jacket Katsuki was wearing. The jacket with their agency logo, and Eijirou’s hero name on the back.
And there were even more photos of Katsuki in his jacket, all taken by people that had spotted him while he was running errands and posted online with both of them tagged. Pics of Katsuki walking down the sidewalk, browsing the aisles of the grocery store, even sneaky shots behind corners or produce bins as he looked for the perfect vegetables for dinner that night. All making sure to include his unmistakable blond hair and Eijirou’s jacket.
He dropped his phone to the table and darted to the bedroom, yanking open the closet door; sure enough, the sole jacket hanging on the rack had Dynamight stitched across the back.
Eijirou ran back to grab his phone—it was still blowing up, what the hell—and navigated to Katsuki’s contact, sending him the post.
Dude?????
The reply was instantaneous: Yours is comfier than mine
Two seconds later: These extras are fucking relentless, be proud I haven’t blown any of them up
Eijirou sighed, dropping his phone to the table, then his forehead.
Looks like they’d have to add them being open about their relationship to the PR meeting docket.
