Chapter Text
“Oh, fuck yeah!” Bakugou Katsuki says, leaning forward to turn up the volume on the current song as he drives.
He starts tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and bobbing his head along to the beat, pale blonde spikes wiggling with the movement, angular scarlet eyes crinkled with mirth and a slasher smirk on his face. He looks away from the road for a fraction of a second to wiggle his eyebrows at his boyfriend, and the other man laughs loudly.
Kirishima Eijirou’s hair is spiked as well, but his doesn’t move when he shifts to the music as the gel used to hold the dyed red strands keeps it cemented in place. He has a broad grin on his face as well, showing off sharp teeth. His wide crimson eyes are warm and full of affection as he looks to the blonde.
When Katsuki stops at a light, Eijirou reaches over to pull the man in for a kiss that the blonde easily returns. It’s chaste, for obvious safety reasons, but warm and sweet nevertheless.
“I love you, you know that?” Eijirou says, turning the music down now that the song is over.
“Yeah, yeah, you too, idiot,” Katsuki says with a huff. “Quit your sappy bullshit, we’re almost to my parents.”
Eijirou snorts and leans back in his seat. “Right, babe, can’t have your parents thinking we actually love each other, huh?”
“I just don’t want the hag to give me shit again,” Katsuki says, scowling lightly as he takes a turn. He lets the wheel slide back to place between his fingers as he grunts. “She never fuckin’ leaves me alone.”
“Aww, come on, Kats, she just loves you,” Eijirou says teasingly.
“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbles, pulling into the driveway.
He parks and turns the car off, pouting out the windshield at his parents’ upscale, modern home; the one that he’s always hated. It’s always perfectly kept, nothing out of place, and growing up, that had applied to Katsuki as well.
Eijirou unbuckles first, and the opening of his door finally has Katsuki getting out as well. He trails after his boyfriend up to the sleek white door of the house, hands in his pockets and wishing Eijirou didn’t make him go to these shitty dinners once a month.
Eijirou knocks once and Bakugou Mitsuki tugs the door open, her hair and eyes the same color as her son’s, though her blonde locks are longer and better kept with regular styling. Rather than a scowl on her face, she’s grinning as she invites the redhead inside.
“Ugh, Eijirou, when are you gonna teach my brat some manners?” Mitsuki teases.
Eijirou laughs while Katsuki scowls, hating the casual hit. He’s long used to it though, and it’s why he’d never wanted to go to this fucking house again after he’d moved out. But he’d chosen to move in with Eijirou after their last year of high school, and the redhead had given him puppy dog eyes until Katsuki had given in and agreed.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki grouses as he toes his shoes off.
“Hey, be nice to your mom,” Eijirou says, a small frown on his lips.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I’ll be nice to her when she’s nice to me, Red.”
Mitsuki lets out a huff and turns to lead them into the kitchen, where Bakugou Masaru is preparing dinner. He looks to them with a soft smile, his brown eyes crinkling behind his black-rimmed glasses. His brown hair is starting to get a few grays now, and Katsuki finds it strange.
Masaru has always been sweet and seemed both young and wise in Katsuki’s eyes. He’s the parent who makes him feel welcomed and wanted, and the discoloration just reminds Katsuki that he’s twenty-two and his father won’t be around forever. He’d been almost forty when Katsuki had been born to Mitsuki, who was twenty-seven at the time.
Mitsuki, on the other hand, looks as if she has a personal connection to the fountain of youth. There’s not a single line on her face, which some might consider good genetics, but Katsuki knows it’s because when there’s no one around to impress, she lives in a state of coldness. There’s a reason Katsuki doesn’t get along with her, and it’s not simply because he’s a ‘disrespectful brat.’
Katsuki sits down next to Eijirou at the chabudai table, across from Mitsuki and the open seat left for her husband. He tries not to think about how much he looks like his mother; it just fuels his inner rage further.
“So, how’re things going at work, Eijirou?” Mitsuki asks sweetly, fluttering her lashes for extra effect.
“Great!” Eijirou says cheerfully, fully falling for her charms as always. “I’m lead instructor now, and the students are so much fun to work with! One student asked me to sign his boxing gloves, it was adorable.”
“That’s fantastic to hear,” Mitsuki says, then turns her eyes to Katsuki. “And how’s the restaurant?”
“Fine,” Katsuki says flatly.
Eijirou frowns at him, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “C’mon man, you made a whole new dish that’s been blowing up. Tell her about it.”
Katsuki looks to him for a moment, then back at his mom with a deadpan expression. “It’s delicious.”
Eijirou groans lightly and Mitsuki rolls her eyes, scoffing in annoyance. Masaru chuckles lightly from the stove, turning to bring the pot over to the table. There are several dishes left to grab and Eijirou stands up.
“C’mon, Kats, lets help your dad set the table,” Eijirou chirps, already making his way over. He frowns over his shoulder when he realizes Katsuki isn’t moving.
“That’s alright, Eijirou, I enjoy setting things out,” Masaru says with a smile. At Eijirou’s pout, he holds out the pot of soup. “But here, you can set this out if you’d like.”
“On it!” Eijirou says happily.
He carries the container over, careful to not spill anything, and sets it down at the center of the table. Katsuki clicks his tongue and leans up to move it over all the way to the left and Eijirou frowns at him, but says nothing.
Masaru, however, beams at Katsuki, fully seeing the way his son understands Masaru’s OCD and his need for things to be in a particular place. He says nothing about it, but his smile doesn’t fade as he finishes setting things out.
“How are things going for you guys, anything new?” Eijirou asks, reaching to start filling his plate.
“Just the wonders of the ever-changing world of fashion,” Masaru says, chuckling as he gathers his own food. “But some of our designs are going to be featured in that new Vogue variety magazine, so that’s exciting.”
“That’s fantastic!” Eijirou exclaims. “Congratulations!”
Mitsuki frowns when Katsuki only grunts his acknowledgment. “Oi, brat, say congrats to your old man, he’s worked hard for this.”
“Shut up,” Katsuki grouses, rolling his eyes. “If his shit’s gonna be in fuckin’ Vogue, he knows it’s good.”
“Hey, come on, man,” Eijirou says, frowning at his slightly taller boyfriend. “Don’t be so rude, just congratulate him.”
“It’s fine,” Masaru says, humming as he smiles at his son. “You’re right, I know I did well, Katsuki.”
“See?” Katsuki says, huffing as he gathers more of the stew.
Eijirou looks down at his food and sighs softly. “Well, congrats, Bakugou-san, that’s awesome.”
“Thanks, Eijirou,” Masaru says.
“Well, tell us about these students of yours, Eijirou,” Mitsuki says.
Eijirou’s face lights up as he dives headlong into talking about his students; how far they’ve come over the past few years of training them. The new group he got in as lead this month looks so hopeful and he mentions he shouldn’t have a favorite, but he can’t help but root for the runt of the group. The kid just reminds him so much of himself when he’d first gotten into sports.
When the end of dinner comes, Katsuki silently gets up and gathers empty dishes, bringing them to the sink to wash while Eijirou continues talking to Mitsuki. Masaru bites back a smile at the unspoken kindness his son shows to the people he cares for.
He looks to Eijirou, the young man who is the opposite—loud in his methods of loving; always bright and warm. He’s always hoped that the man would help Katsuki learn to be more open in that way. But still, the fact that someone so sweet and generous is so smitten for his grumpy son warms his heart.
When Katsuki places the last of the dishes on the drying rack, Masaru stands up. “Hey, Katsuki, come here, I want to get your opinion on this piece.”
Katsuki grunts and crosses his arms, but follows his father, mumbling a, “Whatever, old man.”
Mitsuki and Eijirou watch the men leave, frowns on both of their faces. The woman sighs and runs a hand through her hair as she leans back in her floor chair. She looks to the redhead across from her, taking in the furrow in his brow and the frown on his lips and she clicks her tongue.
“You know, I’m shocked you’ve stuck with him for this long,” she admits quietly.
Eijirou blinks in surprise and turns to look at her. “What?”
“He’s rude, and he never wants to help out,” Mitsuki says, frowning deeply. “I’m glad he’s got you as his moral compass, honestly. If it wasn’t for you, I’d worry about him joining the fucking Yakuza or something.”
“Whoa, Kats isn’t like that,” Eijirou quickly denies, shaking his head. “He’s harsh, yeah, but he’s a good guy, y’know?”
“Eijirou, when’s the last time Katsuki let you know he even cares?” Mitsuki asks, arching a single, perfectly maintained eyebrow. “Because you two have been together for five years and I’ve never heard him even tell you he loves you.”
Eijirou opens his mouth to respond, but then pauses and slowly shuts it. His lips twitch into a frown and he looks down to his hands, fiddling with his fingers. He swallows thickly, hating the doubt that creeps up whenever the woman brings this kind of stuff up during these dinners. If she didn’t make such valid points, he would consider not coming.
“He just… he doesn’t like doing that stuff in front of other people,” he says quietly.
Mitsuki sighs. “But you want him to, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eijirou says, shoulders tensing as his eyes flick up to the hall where his boyfriend vanished. “I wish he would just hold my hand or something out in public, but he never even tries. Never has.”
Mitsuki gives him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe he just needs you to help him out?”
Eijirou looks back to her, confused. “How?”
“You know,” Mitsuki says, leaning forward and dropping her voice, “remind him when he’s being rude, point it out so he learns not to do it.”
Eijirou licks his lips as he considers that. “Would that really work?”
“It’s worth a try,” Mitsuki says, shrugging. “He’s headstrong, but he loves you and trusts you, so you’re the one who has the best chance at getting him to change.”
“I guess,” Eijirou says quietly.
“Alright, enough, old man!” Katsuki’s voice shouts from the hallway. “I’m leaving, go get some fucking sleep, you look tired as shit!”
Eijirou grimaces and Mitsuki gives him an understanding look. “Try it, Eijirou.”
—
Katsuki loves going out with his boyfriend; loves showing off the sweet, kind man that he’d honestly never thought he’d be worthy of dating. Back when he’d first met Eijirou in high school, Katsuki had been a massive asshole, but fortunately with the help of Eijirou and their friends Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, and Ashido Mina, he’d softened his edges.
He still remembers when Eijirou had confessed to him in their second year; the blushing mess the redhead had been with his cheeks nearly as dark as his hair. Katsuki had been shocked, as he’d been in love with the guy for a while by that point and had absolutely not seen it coming.
Katsuki remembers confessing that he’d believed he would never be good enough for Eijirou, and the redhead had given him an impossibly soft smile and told him that of course he was good enough. Eijirou could read Katsuki, understood the ways he functioned and over that year of getting to know him, he’d fallen just as hard for the blonde as Katsuki had for him.
“Wow, this is delicious,” Eijirou says, bringing Katsuki out of his thoughts and back to the present, to where they’re seated in a new restaurant downtown with the redhead slicing into his steak.
Katsuki grunts and grabs his own knife and fork, cutting into his 8oz sirloin. He stabs a piece with his fork and brings it up to his mouth, savoring the flavor as he chews. As a chef, it’s a habit for him to do this when he eats at new places, and he does it without really even thinking about it.
The texture is good, and the flavors are decent, but it’s certainly not worth the price listed on the menu here. He shrugs and reaches for his glass of water, taking a sip before speaking.
“I make it better,” he says simply, and cuts another piece, missing the way Eijirou’s face sours.
When dinner is done, they head out to the movie theater, walking side by side, both with their hands in their pockets to stave off the chilly mid-winter air. There’s only a little bit of snow on the trees and bushes, but the breeze feels icy, and their breaths come out in puffs of white.
Katsuki is exhausted, as he’d woken up extra early this morning to get to the Plus Ultra restaurant to prep veggies for the specials he has planned out for the week. He would honestly rather be home right now, curled up in his nice, warm bed, cuddled up with his heater of a boyfriend.
He fights back a yawn, not wanting to upset the sunshiney redhead beside him, who’s been gushing over the new rom com that came out a couple days ago. Katsuki just hopes he can stay awake through the thing, especially since he’s never liked romantic movies. They’re all boring clichés and never hold his interest for more than a few minutes at a time.
Eijirou pushes the door open and holds it for Katsuki, who shudders as they’re suddenly enveloped in the heat of the place. The scent of overpriced popcorn and the sound of excited voices fills the space and invades their senses.
“Can you grab the tickets?” Eijirou says as he looks to the bathrooms.
Katsuki snorts and waves a hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, yeah, go on.”
The redhead gives him a grateful smile before rushing across the main room. Katsuki huffs out a small laugh as he steps up to the counter, buying two tickets to ‘A Whisper of Her Name’ which sounds boring as fuck.
With the tickets in pocket, he heads to the concession stand and buys a large bucket of popcorn, a large drink, and a box of peanut M&Ms because they’re Eijirou’s favorite. He fills the large cup with a little ice and lots of Wild Cherry Pepsi, gross, but again, it’s Eijirou’s favorite and Katsuki doesn’t even want to be here, so he might as well make up for the very real possibility of him passing out during this fucking film.
“Kats!” Eijirou chirps as he jogs over just as the blonde is capping the drink.
“Grab your sugar coma, we’re in theater seven,” Katsuki says.
“Aw, thanks,” Eijirou says, grabbing the popcorn and candy, turning to lead the way while Katsuki follows with the drink in hand.
The theater is packed with couples and Katsuki grumbles as he pulls the tickets out to read off their assigned seats. There are already two women there and he scowls when he stops at the end of the aisle.
“Oi, assholes, those are our seats,” he snaps.
“Hey, Kats, be nice,” Eijirou chides lowly, and then flashes the couple a smile. “This place has assigned seats, and I think you guys are in the wrong ones.”
“Oh, are we?” One of them pulls the tickets out and then looks down at the front of their seat. “Oh, shit, sorry, we’re one too far over!”
As the couple shifts over, Eijirou tries to hide his frown from the blonde, who slides past the people there to plop down in one of their purchased seats. He tries to keep a smile on his face as he sits next to his boyfriend, but the annoyed looks from the people around them really isn’t helping.
Eijirou’s mood only worsens when, barely twenty minutes into the movie, Katsuki falls asleep, slumping against Eijirou’s shoulder and sighing against his hoodie. The redhead closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, wondering why the fuck Katsuki even agreed to come out if he was just going to be an asshole and sleep through it.
“Yikes, sorry you’re dealing with that,” one of the women next to them whispers.
Eijirou gives her a tight smile and whispers back. “Sorry, he’s not always… well, I mean…”
The woman gives him a concerned look. “Not a nice guy, huh?”
“He’s not bad,” Eijirou says, frowning. “Just grumpy.”
“Right,” the other woman says, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t put up with someone like that.”
Katsuki is woken up by Eijirou harshly jostling his shoulder, and the blonde lurches upright, looking around and blinking rapidly as his senses come back to him. He yawns loudly and rolls his neck before looking to his boyfriend.
“Shit, sorry, Eiji,” Katsuki says, standing up, a slight grimace on his lips.
“It’s fine,” Eijirou says, voice clipped as he leads the way out of the aisle.
Katsuki sighs, knowing the redhead is angry with him. He picks up their trash and carries it out, following Eijirou down the aisle steps and dropping their garbage in the bin as he passes it. He walks a little faster to catch up to Eijirou, fully expecting the redhead to jump into his usual retelling of the entire fucking movie as soon as they step out the theater doors.
Instead, the walk home is completely silent, not a single word spoken between them.
When they get home, Eijirou toes his shoes off, hangs up his jacket, and goes straight to the bathroom with a simple, “I’m gonna take a shower. You should just go to bed.”
“God fucking damn it,” Katsuki says, running a hand through his hair as he flips the latch on their apartment door.
Rather than going straight to bed, he goes to the kitchen and swiftly gathers up food meant for his own early mornings and makes up a special bento for Eijirou, giving the man all his tiny sausages and half of his karaage.
He contemplates leaving an apology note inside of it, but he knows that Eijirou understands him well enough to know the bento is his form of a ‘sorry.’ After all, Eijirou has been able to read Katsuki’s intentions better than anyone else ever has.
Even when they argue, the redhead has always been able to understand what Katsuki means with his point of views and gruff manner of speaking and acting. It’s made life a lot easier, even if it seems like Eijirou has started to lose his ‘Bakugou-Speak’ ability lately, Katsuki knows it’s probably just stress.
He’s not too worried about it.
Meanwhile, Eijirou stands beneath the hot spray, taking deep breaths and trying not to cry from how frustrated and embarrassed he is at having had to defend his boyfriend’s actions in a fucking movie theater.
He shouldn’t have to defend Katsuki; his boyfriend should know better. They’re adults, and he should act like it.
He finds himself thinking back to Mitsuki’s words, wondering if he should really start trying to help Katsuki grow more as a person.
It worked back in high school, right?
Eijirou loves Katsuki, he just doesn’t love the way he acts sometimes. It makes sense for him to help the man mature even further now as an adult. It’s not like it’ll really hurt anything if he just starts pushing Katsuki a little in the right direction.