Work Text:
"Babe! Look! Look!"
Yamato nearly garroted himself with the floss string. "What? Bonnie, I swear to–"
He didn't have to pause and glance at what his wife was showing him. Having been married for four years now and having been together for eight, he knew that what excited his wife was going to be one of four things, and his hunch was already yelling exactly what it was.
Some men complained about their wives' obsessions, but Yamato had no such qualms. He loved his wife's quirky hobbies and interests. He loved her and all her whimsy– he didn't mind that time he had to crawl and be stealthy trying to catch a stray cat that found its way into their yard.
She was smart, beautiful, and his friends often joked that she was out of his league.
There was one thing about her that he still had yet to come to terms with: her obsession with Japanese professional heroes, specifically Red Riot and Dynamight.
Emphasis on and.
As in Red Riot and Dynamight together.
Her collection of Funko Pops and action figures gathering dust in their shelves was not bothering him. Heck, she'd taken him to conventions and fell in line to buy hero merch of the two and he did it with a big grin on his face.
What concerned him was his wife was convinced that the two pro heroes were in a secret relationship.
"Do you see that?" Bonnie shoved her phone on his face. "Two drinks! TWO!"
Yamato hummed. "Yeah, sure honey." He continued flossing, wrapping the flimsy string around his finger and tilting his head at the right angle to get the stubborn piece of meat hanging from between his teeth.
"You understand what this means, right?"
Sighing, Yamato paused again to accept defeat. There was no way she was letting this go. Carefully, he threw the floss and gargled. Dental hygiene would have to be delayed for a few minutes, conspiracy theories on heroes' dating lives came first, apparently.
"No, honey, I don't understand what it means."
She cracked a smile.
A smile always bulldozed its way through her face followed by the funny duo of pacing and rambling, spewing paragraphs upon paragraphs on why whatever new photo or video that had just surfaced only added to the piling evidence that Red Riot and Dynamight were an actual couple.
It was both endearing and concerning.
"This is huge!” She swiped furiously on her phone, bringing up what looked like a thirty-page dissertation. “The Kiribaku community is already analyzing the cup placement, the timestamps, and…look! They both left the shop at the same time. The same damn time!”
"Oh, wow. That is groundbreaking. Did they walk on the same sidewalk, too?"
Still with a wide grin, she began frantically scrolling through her phone. "Why, yes. Actually–" She stopped and looked at him, groaning. "Ugh. You're mocking me, aren't you?"
He laughed. "I'm not."
"You think it's weird."
"Well…" He cocked his head and playfully scrunched his face. "I think it's funny."
She gasped. "There's nothing funny about this! They came out of that cafe together! And Bakugou was carrying two drinks! A hot drink–obviously an Americano, he always orders an Americano– and from the looks of it, a caramel frappuccino! You know whose go to drink is a caramel frappuccino? With extra caramel drizzle? That has Kirishima written all over it–"
He kissed her, then, if only to stop her from spiraling. Soothing her arms, he said, "You're so cute, love. Never mind that you've memorized the specific coffee orders of two strangers."
"I know more about Kirishima and Bakugou than I do our neighbors."
He chuckled. "I don't think that's something to be proud of."
"Hey!" she called out. "No judging, remember?"
Stepping back, he raised both hands in surrender. "I'm not judging. I'm just telling it how it is."
"How it is?" Uh oh. Her voice was rising, and that's never a good sign. The last time Yamato tried to talk some sense into her, she made him join a discord call with ten other "Kiribaku shippers", painfully sitting through slide after slide of what they deemed as evidence that Pro Heroes Red Riot and Dynamight were soulmates.
"You don't get it, love. Bakugou Katsuki is the grumpiest, probably meanest man alive, but he remembers Kirishima's exact order down to the drizzle. That's intimacy."
"You remember Kirishima's exact order down to the drizzle, love."
"It's not the same!" she insisted. "I am a Kirishima fan, of course I will remember every single detail about him."
He nodded, crossing his arms. "And Bakugou's been Kirishima's friend since they were teenagers."
"It's Bakugou Katsuki!" She waved her hands around with the kind of disbelieving look that made Yamato scared for his life. "The Bakugou Katsuki who can't remember that Mashirao Ojirou was his classmate at UA?"
Okay, point to Bonnie.
Still, he had to stay still and contemplate for a moment. His wife was taking things way out of proportion, and he did not know if he had the heart to tell her. He understood it quite well – this was something she was passionate about, and it gave her a whimsical sense of happiness that he never quite got a grasp on.
He knew shipping was a thing, but only when he married Bonnie did Yamato realize how serious these so-called fujoshis were. He could barely count on his fingers the number of times he sat and nodded as his wife analyzed a too-long eye contact or what she called "lingering touches" between the two pro heroes.
"Look at the eyes! He's scowling, but his body's turned toward Kirishima. He's trying his best to say 'I hate this', but he really wants to tell Kirishima he loves him."
"I'm not crazy, right? That's the same bracelet, right? That's totally Kirishima's bracelet!"
Bonnie had even dedicated the third Sunday of every month to hop on a group voice call with people from all over the world whom she had met online – Yamato fondly and teasingly referred to them as Bonnie's "Bakugou friends." Their topic? You guessed it.
From where he stood, Yamato would often hear the words "friends don't look at each other like that," or "Yeah, them simultaneously being, air quote, on vacation, air quote, isn't suspicious at all."
Yamato had long accepted that his marriage was actually a polycule with Kirishima and Bakugou — and they did not even have any idea that he and his wife existed.
Sometimes, he fiddled with the idea of starting a Fujoshi Husbands Support Group™ with the significant others of these so-called KiriBaku shippers. He knew of some of them— both those who reluctantly looked at their partners as if they were crazy, and the more supportive ones who found it funny to feed fan fiction ideas to their partners.
Don’t get it wrong. Yamato loved supporting his wife. He’d pose for her when she needed a reference for her Kiribaku fan art, but it was also fun to tease her by saying that Bakugou was actually soulmates with Midoriya instead.
It was all in good spirit.
If only shipping Red Riot and Dynamight helped pay their bills, they would be millionaires by now.
***
He was folding laundry when his wife gasped so loud he thought someone had died.
Rushing into the living room to find her frozen, phone clutched to her chest like a precious artifact, Yamato nearly shook her out of her stupor. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"He– he— he called him Ei."
"What?"
"Bakugou Katsuki called Kirishima Eijirou 'Ei' in public."
"Jesus Christ." Yamato straightened his back and rubbed his face. "You're gonna make me panic over nothing."
"Nothing? Look at this, Matty."
He squinted at the screen she was shoving to his face. It was a clip of a press conference, and in it, Bakugou barked, "Oi, Ei, don't hog the mic!"
"Bonbon, that's just–"
"He called him Ei! Not Kirishima, not Red. Ei!"
"It's faster than saying his full name." He shrugged and ruffled her hair, kissing the top of her head. "But yeah, sure. It must mean they're dating, love."
"Hey!" She pouted. "You don't get how intimate they get."
"Yeah, they're soooooo intimate." He kissed her again. "I need to finish folding before the clothes wrinkle."
Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him, like she was about to argue more, but when her phone lit up again and she shrieked, he took that as his cue to escape before she dragged him into another dissertation.
***
Two nights later, Yamato found himself standing in front of Bonnie’s desk, staring at her computer setup. His external hard drive had finally given up, and with the new expansion of his favorite game dropping, he didn’t have the storage left on his laptop.
"Bonbon," he called out toward the kitchen. "Can I borrow your PC for a bit? Just to download something."
"Depends," she shouted back. "What is it?"
"Game."
"Not a virus, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "It’s not a virus. I’m not eighty."
Bonnie poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a towel. "Fine. But don’t close my tabs. I have everything organized."
"Organized?" He dropped into her chair. "If by organized you mean chaos."
Her desktop wallpaper was, of course, a split collage of Dynamight scowling and Red Riot grinning. Her browser had no less than fifteen pinned tabs, all variations of “Kiribaku Evidence Masterpost,” “Bakugou Soft For Kirishima Compilation,” "Red Riot being possessive over Dynamight for Seventeen Minutes Gay," and one labeled simply: “👀👀👀.”
He snorted. "Christ, Bonbon."
Still, he opened a new window, intending to ignore it. But curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on one of the pinned tabs.
A Google Doc opened. Forty pages. Titled in bold:
“THE UNDENIABLE TRUTH: WHY KIRIBAKU IS REAL.”
Yamato squinted. He chuckled. "What the hell am I looking at?"
Against his better judgment, he kept scrolling.
There were screenshots of press conferences, slowed-down gifs of the two heroes brushing hands, photos from fan events with circles and arrows drawn on them like crime scene evidence.
It was nothing, he told himself. Eventually, though, he hit a part that made him pause.
It opened to a festival photo of Bakugou Katsuki, scowling as usual, wearing flame-print pants and a matching shirt. His jacket, however, was missing. Looking at it, there was nothing suspicious about the photo. It was the caption beneath it, written by Izuku Midoriya of all people, that piqued Yamato's interest.
“Where did his festival jacket go? Maybe Kacchan gave it to a girl passing by who looked cold?”
Yamato squinted. Alright. Kind of sweet, if true. He didn't know why his wife had saved it, though. If anything, it only contradicted her theory. Bakugou Katsuki was seeing someone.
Scrolling further down, he perfectly understood why this mattered to Bonnie. Just a few scrolls away, there was a photo of Kirishima from the same festival. It was nothing out of the ordinary. He wore black pants, and was shirtless except for a white wrap-around sash. What was noticeable was the flame-print jacket hanging from his shoulders.
That was… odd. But it wasn't something to write home about.
Except. Midoriya had captioned it with, "Why is he wearing a festival jacket on his shoulders? Is it to cut off the wind or…"
Those ellipses were ominous, and Yamato hated the fact that he was invested in this. More so when the document placed the two images side by side, complete with red circles around the identical patterns.
Yamato leaned closer to the screen. “Shit. That really is the same jacket.”
Hesitant as he was, he was sucked into the Kiribaku black hole he had been trying to drag his wife away from.
Later, he'd deny this, but there really was something fruity about them. Even their Halloween costumes screamed homosexuals in hiding.
God damn.
One year had Kirishima grinning in a little red riding hood cape, Bakugou looming beside him in wolf ears and claws. The captions practically wrote themselves.
The following year was worse. Kirishima had gone all out as Pyramid Head in what is a very unholy, psychosexual costume, while Bakugou was a zombie… on a leash. Kirishima was literally dragging him across the floor while a befuddled Hitoshi Shinsou looked at them like he was regretting all of his life choices.
Yamato slapped a hand over his mouth. “What the actual fuck?” He tried not to laugh. He failed.
He kept scrolling.
New Year’s. Bakugou in a full shishimai costume, lunging forward to chomp Kirishima’s head in the middle of a crowd.
Bonnie’s highlighted note read: “Traditionally, shishimai bites are for good luck. Tell me this isn’t him showering Kirishima with blessings.”
Yamato rolled his eyes. “Or maybe he just likes biting his friend’s head.” But the image was ridiculous enough to keep him grinning.
Then came the hero profiles.
On Kirishima’s profile, it read: “Favorite things: tough guys and meat.”
It wasn't spectacular, to say the least, but Bonnie and her friends had added a screenshot of Pro Hero Camie in an interview, obviously giggling: “Bakugou likes it when people think he’s a tough guy. That’s his thing.”
There was a note there, possibly from Bonnie or another shipper, saying: "I've connected the dots."
Yamato dragged a hand down his face. “Oh, come on. You’re practically gift-wrapping this for the shippers.”
That was the exact moment Bonnie walked in.
She stopped in the doorway, dish towel still in her hand, staring at him hunched over her desk with the glow of obsession on his face.
“Oh. My. God.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It happened.”
Yamato snapped his head up. “I was just— I needed storage— I wasn’t—”
“You’re one of us now,” she said reverently, like she was witnessing a baptism. "One of us. One of us. One of us."
He slammed the tab shut and groaned, but it was too late.
Because no matter how much he denied it, in the back of his head one thought kept circling, stubborn and damning: they may be onto something.
***
Yamato hated April Fool's day. He did not like the lame jokes that peppered his news feed. Some of them were out of touch, some were downright mean.
Thankfully, he and his wife were never fans of pulling pranks on each other.
So, it was quite baffling to hear his wife screaming from the other room. Yamato had just sat down, fully intending to enjoy his coffee in peace, when she shrieked.
"Mattyyyyyy!"
Begrudgingly, he rolled his eyes. He hoped against hope that she would not pick this time to start a prank war with him.
"What's going on?" he asked as he walked towards her.
Tears in her eyes, she flipped her phone to show him the screen. "They– they– they said they got married."
"Who-" Yamato stopped himself. Of course he knew what his wife was talking about. Sure enough, a peek at her phone screen confirmed his suspicions.
There it was.
@official.redriot had just posted a photo carousel with the caption, "Finally tied the knot!"
The first photo was of him and Bakugou, backs turned to the camera, standing in the middle of a meadow, and wearing matching kimonos.
Yamato scrolled through the carousel. The next photo was of Kirishima and Bakugou, hand in hand, walking out of what looked like a court house. The next one was of the two kissing.
Kissing!
On the lips. Eyes closed. Like. Homosexually kissing!
Beneath it were tons of comments from fans and fellow pro heroes alike, either congratulating them or pointing out the fact that it was posted on April Fool's day.
"Come on, it's obviously a bit," Yamato said, handing the phone back to his wife. "They're doing it for PR, maybe."
"PR? Are you kidding me?"
He shrugged. "Babe, it's obvious. Besides, it is April Fools today."
She sighed. "You know, I'd actually agree with you if there wasn't a metric ton of proof that they’ve actually been secretly dating.”
“Bonbon,” Yamato cut in, holding up a hand. “It’s April first. It’s a prank.”
Her head whipped toward him, scandalized. “You think they’d joke about something like marriage?”
“Yes!” He gestured at the screen. “That’s literally the point of April Fools.”
She shook her head violently. “No. No, Kirishima's way too earnest to joke about marriage. If he says he tied the knot, then he tied the knot!”
***
The rest of the day was a blur of emotional whiplash.
Bonnie scoured every hero social media account and made an executive summary of what each hero posted.
Pinky had posted a story on Instagram of Bakugou and Kirishima cutting a cake. She had written, “I can finally share this! Congratulations, love birds!”
Before his wife could say anything, Yamato was already with his point. “Ashido’s a known troll.”
“It’s kinda going far just for an April fool’s joke, though,” she said. “And it wasn’t just her. Chargebolt also posted pictures, Deku’s been retweeting a bunch of DynaRiot stuff, and Cellophane had tweeted, ‘they’re no longer virgins.’ with a photo of Kiribaku.”
“Obviously they’re all in on it.”
“Eraserhead and All Might too?”
Yamato could not answer that.
***
By midnight, neither of them had decided. The discord server with Bonnie’s “Bakugou friends” was a battlefield of theories, half-certain it was a prank, half-screaming that it was true love at last.
When Yamato finally crawled into bed, Bonnie rolled over to him, eyes shining. “Matty. If it’s not a prank, then we witnessed history today.”
Yamato hummed, pulling her close. “If it is a prank, I want a goddamn refund for all the brain space I wasted thinking about this.”
***
By the second day, their living room looked like a crime drama set. Bonnie had printed out screenshots of old interviews, Yamato had three different laptops open to archived HeroNews articles, and there was an actual piece of yarn connecting Bakugou’s missing flame jacket to a photo of Kirishima at the same festival.
***
By the third day, it wasn’t even speculation anymore. It became an accepted fact for them. They spoke about it like it was already part of history.
“Well, of course Bakugou took him to I-Island.” Bonnie sighed, stirring her tea. “You take your boyfriend, well, in this case, husband already, not your ‘friend.’”
“Right.” Yamato nodded. He sipped his tea. "And those pictures of them at another festival where Kirishima was feeding. Actually feeding Bakugou takoyaki!"
"See! Now you get it!"
By the fourth day, they’d fully adapted to this new reality. They weren’t trying to figure out if it was true anymore, just how long it had been true.
***
It had been days since the April Fools post. The logical part of Yamato’s brain kept whispering They’re trolling, you’re overthinking this. But every time he opened Twitter, there was another photo, another comment, another clue.
They had stopped waiting for a punchline. The announcement hadn’t been retracted, no publicist had come forward, no gotcha video had dropped. Instead, Bonnie and Yamato found themselves combing through old interviews and hero profiles
“Look,” Bonnie said, shoving her phone under his nose. “They’re still wearing rings.”
Yamato did not know what the hell happened, but suddenly, he's muting himself on the zoom call for work, removing his headset, and voluntarily reaching over to see for himself. "Oh, that is so clearly a wedding band."
"Right?" She grinned. "Like, we're not crazy, right? They're definitely actually married."
"Yeah, they've probably–" He paused, groaning. "Oh god. Why am I so invested in this?"
Bonnie let out a chuckle. "Cos you're finally realizing that your wife's not crazy, after all."
"Debatable," he said, pursing his lips. "I've always known you were crazy, but it's fun being crazy with you too."
"Uh huh," she said. "Well, you used to love Ryan Reynolds and I accepted that about you. I think it's just fair that you accept my DynaRiot brainrot."
He flicked a scout salute in her direction, smiling. "You used to make me watch true crime documentaries about spouses killing each other back when we started dating, and I thought it was cute."
"You're just as cuckoo as I am."
***
Two weeks had gone by and there still was not any confirmation nor denial coming from anyone.
When cornered, other pro heroes would dodge the question and say that it was not their place to answer for their friends.
In post-battle interviews, Kirishima would only grin and scratch the back of his neck, saying, "I don't know what else to tell you, man."
Bakugou, of course, was still evasive, yelling profanities at anyone who dared bring up his personal life.
That was until two in the morning on a random Wednesday. Bonnie and the rest of the world were soundly sleeping, tucked into their soft duvets. Yamato was doom scrolling and waiting for the soft knock of lassitude to knock him out.
His phone chimed with a notification he would never admit he had on.
Bakugou Katsuki had just posted something.
No, it's not a stunt. Not an April Fools joke. Not for PR.
We're married. Deal with it.I don’t do speeches, but I’ll say this once: Eijirou’s mine. He puts up with my shit, calls me out when I need it, and still shows up every damn day. He laughs at me when I’m pissed, steals my food, and makes it impossible to stay angry. He’s the one who grabs my jacket right before heading out the door when I forget it, the idiot who drags me into the dumbest costumes, and the reason I’m not a complete asshole all the time.
He drives me insane, but I will be fucking lost without him.
When we started dating is none of your business. But I'll tell you this. Whatever you've seen is exactly what we are.
That’s it. That’s the post. We’re married. Stop asking.*
—Kirishima Katsuki.
Yamato looked at his wife, then. He was looking at the person who had wanted, for years, to believe in something luminous and silly and true. She had drool at the corner of her mouth, mussed up hair, and just the right amount of insanity buried beneath a beautiful facade.
He thought of all the small things that make up a marriage: the shared jackets, the grocery arguments, the inside jokes, the way someone knew you were tired by how you stand.
Before he knew it, he was wiping his wet cheeks. Carefully, he scooted over and kissed the top of her head.