“You want me to what?” Bakugou asked, pulling his phone away from his ear. He returned it and listened for three seconds before yelling, “No! Not a chance. Go bother someone else.”
Eijirou bit into his granola bar, watching the show as Bakugou continued to argue with whoever was on the other end of his cell phone call. The screaming timber of his voice hadn’t quite reached “we should be worried” decimals, but it was still pretty up there. The guy had drawn the attention of everyone in the common room as he screamed, “I just said I’m not asking, old hag! Back off!” into the receiver before slamming the end call button.
Less than a second later, Midoriya’s phone rang and Eijirou stopped chewing his granola bar.
Bakugou whipped his head to the sound and clenched his teeth so hard they showed through his curled lip. Eijirou swallowed the last of his snack.
“Hello?” Midoriya asked, timidly holding the phone up to his ear as Bakugou stomped closer, eyes yelling murder. Midoriya swallowed but straightened his back as he answered the speaker. “Hi, Mrs. Bakugou. Can I help you?”
“Don’t you dare,” Bakugou hissed.
Midoriya continued shrinking under his childhood friend’s increased glaring, but remained on the line despite the imminent threat of violence. Eijirou crinkled the wrapper of his granola bar into a tiny ball and Kaminari snickered under his breath as he leaned forward to get a better view of the show.
Sometimes Eijirou forgot that Midoriya was an old family friend of Bakugou and his entire family, not just someone Bakugou used to play with when they were little.
It was hard not to be a little envious of the built-in friendship they had, even if they were struggling with it from time to time.
“O-okay, I will,” Midoriya said. He swallowed and clicked the phone off. He grimaced under Bakugou’s glaring and shrugged. “I know you don’t want me to tell, Kacchan, but your mom is scarier than you.”
Bakugou narrowed his eyes but turned away, cursing under his breath and confirming that statement as truth. He muttered, “I’m going to kill that hag” under his breath as he kicked a table leg.
Eijirou had the weird urge to meet Bakugou’s mother if that was something both Midoriya and Bakugou could agree on.
“What’d his mom want?” Kaminari asked, laughing as he pointed at Bakugou fake punching the air. “Must be something good if he’s that mad.”
“Bakugou’s parents want to do a small photo shoot to show off their latest fashion portfolio. They’re hoping to use U.A. students as the models since we’re the age demographic they want and easily recognizable,” Midoriya said. His voice picked up in excitement as he continued. “She wanted Kacchan to ask his classmates if anyone wanted to volunteer and we’ll get to keep one outfit each!”
“Fashion portfolio?” Eijirou asked, glancing at Bakugou.
“His parents are fashion designers, or well, his dad is!” Midoriya said, as Bakugou was still busy sulking. “His mom does make up and stuff along with a lot of the paperwork, but I think she helps in the design, too.”
“That sounds amazing,” Kaminari said, stepping closer to Midoriya and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “What brands do they work for? Or are they independent?”
“I’m not sure,” Midoriya said, looking down at his phone. “I could call back and ask.”
“Yes! Because I’m totally interested in free clothes,” Kaminari said, throwing his hand up.
Eijirou laughed under is breath. He’d forgotten Kaminari was one of the more fashionable individuals in their class. It made sense he’d get excited. Jirou in the corner had also turned an ear toward the conversation, as did Uraraka, Aoyama and a few others.
Bakugou, however, chose this moment to stomp out of the room with all the subtly of a raging bull. He slammed the common room door behind him and Eijirou winced at the harsh sound.
Eijirou found Bakugou an hour later letting off some steam practicing his Quirk in the training yard. He looked good this way, covered in sweat and angry. There was a certain manliness that Eijirou couldn’t deny that came hand in hand with pure aggression that was undeniably attractive. He swallowed following the lines of sweat of Bakugou’s face and calmed his thoughts as he walked through the scorch marks littered the whole field.
He had to remind himself that looking was one thing, but getting to ahead of himself was another. They were friends…just friends.
Bakugou looked like he was ready for a round two as he wiped his face off with a towel, and Eijirou figured this was as good a time as any to interrupt before he got too carried away.
“Does it really bother you that much your parents want your friends to model?” Eijirou asked, hands in his pockets. Bakugou cracked his knuckles and glared over his shoulder with a classic scowl. Eijirou snorted and said, “Okay, different question: Why does it bother you so much your parents want your friends to model?”
“Would you want them running around your home and meeting your parents?” Bakugou asked, pointing back toward the dorms.
“Yes?” Eijirou answered, tilting his head to the side. “I’d love it if my parents met all of you guys.”
Bakugou took a seat in the grass and fell back with a heavy thump, covering his eyes with his elbow as he threw an arm over his face. “Stupid question.”
“If you’re worried about your parents embarrassing you, I wouldn’t be. Most people’s parents are never as embarrassing as they think they are, and even if yours are an exception, I can promise you Kaminari and Jirou are going to be way more invested in the free clothes than caring about childhood stories,” Eijirou said, thinking to their excited faces upon the mention of getting to keep the outfits. Eijirou lay next to Bakugou and crossed his arms over his chest. His friend groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, throwing his hands on the back of his head. “Do you have another reason you don’t want them to meet your parents?”
“It’s the first one,” Bakugou mumbled into the grass. He scratched his hands into his hair, sinking down as his exhaustion from his Quirk training settled. “You don’t know my parents. They are every bit as embarrassing as I think they are.”
“How so?” Eijirou asked. “Are they going to tell stories about you as a kid or something?”
“Or something,” Bakugou repeated, but didn’t say anything else. He moved his elbow back and glanced at Eijirou out of the corner of his eye. “Are you going?”
“If you really don’t want me to, I won’t,” Eijirou admitted. He kinda wanted to see what the big deal was, but it wasn’t worth ruining the friendship he’d worked so hard for if it bothered Bakugou this much. “I can’t speak for the others though.”
“Did it look like they were all going to go?” Bakugou asked.
“The ones who were interested anyway.” Eijirou scratched the back of his head. “I’m pretty sure they were calling your parents back to confirm when I left.”
“Then don’t leave me along with those idiots,” Bakugou said.
He rolled back over and hopped up brushing the grass off his back. Eijirou’s gaze lingered on the seat of his pants and down toward his thighs for a bit too long, but thankfully he wasn’t caught appreciating his friend’s physique. Eijirou cleared his throat and sat up, hanging out in the grass as Bakugou walked back to the dorms.
Eijirou hoped for Bakugou’s sake that the evening with his parents wasn’t as bad as the guy thought it would be.
The other half hoped he didn’t give away how excited he was to be meeting Bakugou’s parents. His manly classmate had become such a vital and important part of Eijirou’s life, he wanted to know everything about him. He wanted to be a better friend and get closer and maybe something more.
Eijirou licked his lip and stood up. He really shouldn’t get too ahead of himself. Bakugou was prickly on his best days and testing the waters on something more than friendship could wait.
He had plenty of time to work up the nerves to ask Bakugou out later.
(It was always later.)
“Look at this crowd of kids! You did great to bring so many over, Izuku,” Mrs. Bakugou said, putting a hand on her hip with a big grin. She slammed her other hand on Bakugou’s head and shoved it down, forcing him into a half bow. “Thank you so much for putting up with my brat of a son. I know he’s a handful, so it’s great to see he’s finally made some friends.”
“Shut up, you old hag!” Bakugou shouted back. He shoved her hand off and breathed hard as he stepped away from her. “Just get on with this already!”
Eijirou hiked his bag a little higher on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it.
“It’s like seeing Bakugou in stereo,” Kaminari said under his breath, jaw dropped as he watched Mrs. Bakugou. He swallowed, flushing slightly red at the cheeks. “And if he had, you know.”
Kaminari motioned at his chest with his hands in cups as he stared. “Those.”
“She’s really pretty,” Mineta added, also openly staring.
Technically, Bakugou was also really pretty, Eijirou thought to himself. His behavior was manly to the extreme, dripping of confidence and muscles, but Bakugou’s facial features had always been a high contrast. He hid it well under scowls and sneers, but when his face relaxed and he was at peace, it was easy to see Bakugou had fair features and looked rather like a super model.
It shouldn’t be a surprise he got that from one of his parents.
“Mitsuki, we do have a lot of outfits to get through and not a lot of time, especially since it looks like we’ll have to tailor a few to fit.” Mr. Bakugou said, rubbing his hands on a handkerchief and looking at Mineta and Shouji. “So maybe we should get them into the studio.”
Eijirou looked over Bakugou’s father and wondered if his son actually shared any features with the older man. He looked like he got nearly everything from his mother in the looks and personality department, so seeing the meek man in glasses with his broad jaw and stocky figure was almost jarring.
“My adorable husband is correct! We’ve got a lot of pictures to take and outfits to try on, so let’s get you guys in the back.” Mrs. Bakugou clapped her hands together and smiled, sweet and bright but still full of mischief that screamed she had something up her sleeve yet. “Follow me!”
The small group that assembled walked behind her, with Kaminari, Jirou, and Mineta excited in the lead, Izuku and Uraraka neutral in the center, and Shouji and Aoyama following behind.
Eijirou lingered next to Bakugou who had chosen to continue sulking in the entryway of his living room. Eijirou nudged I’m with his elbow. “See? This isn’t so bad.”
Bakugou breathed out and rubbed the back of his hair. “If you say so.”
He reluctantly trudged forward and Eijirou was happy to follow him. The two of them caught up with the group in the back room that had been set up as a photo studio on one half while the other half had two small changing curtains next to a rack full of clothes.
“Okay, here’s how this is going to work!” Mrs. Bakugou said, still fairly chipper. “Masaru’s going to help you guys with the fittings and making sure the clothes are pinned in the right place, and I’m going to get your hair and make up fixed up. Feel free to try on two or three outfits to find which works best, but remember you can only take one home!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Kaminari said, throwing his hand up. “Thank you for letting us come over to help!”
“Aren’t you just adorable,” she laughed. Mrs. Bakugou looked over the group and zeroed in on Eijirou. “You!”
He straightened up and said. “Yes!”
“Come here,” she said, motioning him over with a finger.
Bakugou groaned next to him and Eijirou laughed nervously as he set his bag near the door. He tapped across the room and stood front and center. “Yes?”
“Nothing in this collection is even remotely close to punk or alternative fashion, since this is teen formal wear.” Mrs. Bakugou’s eyes turned sharp with a gaze he’d always wanted focused on him, but it was coming from the wrong person. He swallowed and she reached up and pinched one of his styled horns. “These are going to have to go.”
Eijirou swallowed as her face split into a wicked grin that he hated also looked familiar.
Eijirou wanted to reach up and touch his hair but he had a feeling Mrs. Bakugou would go through with the threat to cut his hands off if he so much as thought of touching his hair after she had finished styling it. He’d worn it down at the dorms in the evenings from time to time, but it’d never been slicked or styled back before and Eijirou wondered if it looked as bad as when Bakugou came back from his internship with Best Jeanist.
Because Bakugou certainly wouldn’t stop staring at it.
“Does it look that bad?” Eijirou asked.
“No,” Bakugou said, looking away quickly with a jerk. He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his shoulders back. “Looks fine. Good. You look good.”
Eijirou looked at himself in the mirror that was near the dressing curtain. Out of the clothes they’d had on the rack, the pastels weren’t his thing so he settled on the only dark outfit they had in the collection: a black blazer that went over an old fashioned red, button-up shirt with a popped collar. Mrs. Bakugou had slicked his hair back, but left enough volume that it still looked thick.
“Feels weird being so dressed up,” Eijirou said, reaching down to play with the collar of the sleeve. A small cufflink completed the look of the suit and he laughed. “I didn’t realize this was going to be suits and stuff.”
“Dude, we look awesome!” Kaminari said, coming out of the curtain. Mrs. Bakugou had his hair in a formal side part, also held down into something old fashioned. He spun around, showing off his tux jacket in white. “This is so cool!”
“I can not wait for this to be done,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms as he stood next to Eijirou. He was still pouting, but he looked better than he had earlier. “I hate getting dressed up like some stupid fashion doll.”
“At least everyone is having fun?” Eijirou dropped his sleeve cuff and tried to smile. “It’s not every day a fashion designer wants you in their photos!”
“I guess,” Bakugou said, looking at Eijirou from the corner of his eye.
“Katsuki! Get your ass changed!” His mother yelled across the room. “You’re in these photos, too, buster!”
“Screw you!” Bakugou yelled back.
“Katsuki, please. Your mother wanted some feature shots of you and Izuku,” Bakugou’s father said. His son returned his plea with a scowl and a glare that said “Not a chance.” The older man upped his game and adjusted his glasses with a soft reply. “Please, son. We picked out matching outfits and we were really hoping for a few shots for the family album in addition to the portfolio. It’s been so long since we’ve had a shot of you two together.”
Bakugou bristled, his hair practically standing on edge before he glared at Midoriya before looking back at his parents and throwing his hands up. Midoriya shot him a bashful smile and he groaned. “Fine! Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
Eijirou chuckled under his breath, crossing his arms as he watched his friend’s parents dote over him, and the rest of the class snicker.
At least he wasn’t alone in the teasing: Uraraka was pinching Midoriya’s cheeks and laughing at his blush over getting to be in pictures with “Kacchan.”
He tried to ignore the small twist in his gut at the sight.
Best Jeanist was a fraud.
Eijirou felt his mouth go dry as he swallowed, staring at the wonder that Mrs. Bakugou had done with his buddy’s hair: The wild strands had been parted on the side, tugging it down into two half-slicked parts that ended with fluffy spikes that looked amazing to the touch. He looked classy and stylish and it was only complimented by the clearly-tailored tuxedo they stuck him in.
Dressed in white, the suit’s jacket had been pinched in at his waist and it’s tail spread out with a flare. While there was no color, the embroidered patterns that covered the jacket lapel were raised enough to give a visible texture and the illusion of varying shades of grey.
“That’s right, stay there,” Mr. Bakugou said, positioning Midoriya—wearing an identical suit, but in black—so that he had his fingers laced together and resting on Bakugou’s shoulder as he stood next to him. Bakugou himself was seated on a black, rod-iron chair, with one knee up on a prop box. Izuku stood behind him, hands-on his shoulder and Eijirou couldn’t remember the last time he saw those two being that civil while touching. “Perfect! We’ll get a few shots like this and then try another pose.”
The rest of the people in the room laughed as they talked with each other, showing off the clothes they’d been fitted in. Shouji in particular was happy with the shoulder decor that Mr. Bakugou had whipped up after needing to cut off the sleeves of the outfit Shouji liked. Mineta was having fun in his oversized clothes while Aoyama attempted to gather them in a way with a tie to make it look intentional, while Uraraka and Jirou showed off that they could look good in men’s fashion as well as the next lady. Kaminari snapped pictures on his phone to send to Sero who’d sat today’s trip out.
None of them paid much attention to the rather…intimate poses that Mr. Bakugou was subjecting his son and his neighbor’s kid to.
Eijirou tried not to stare too hard as Midoriya’s arms fitting around Bakugou’s shoulder in a loose back hug or when Mr. Bakugou forced them to look at each other, their face’s a breath apart.
He knew there was nothing there but a mending friendship.
They just looked like they were going to kiss any second because of the lighting. And the posing and—
“So, you have a crush on my awful son or what?” Mrs. Bakugou asked, whispering in Eijirou’s ear.
“What?” Eijirou said, whipping his head to the side. She grinned at him with that wicked smirk he’d thought about in his dreams, but it felt so wrong to see on a woman over twice his age. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve got eyes in my head, even if my kid doesn’t seem to have any,” she said, leaning back and looking at her son and Midoriya. “Considering you’re one of the only two people he’s mentioned by their actual name in my household when talking about people he knows, you’ve got my approval.”
“I really don’t…” Eijirou trailed off, holding up his arm and putting it back down. He didn’t think lying to Bakugou’s mom would help much. So he settled with the second half of his hesitation. “Well, maybe I might like him a little, but I don’t think he’s interested.”
“You know, when I decided to ask Masaru out, I had to be pretty aggressive,” Mrs. Bakugou said, crossing her arms. She straightened her back out and smiled fondly at her husband as he manhandled Midoriya and Bakugou into more poses than seemed necessary. “He didn’t take the hint the first time I asked him out, so I had to pull out all the stops. I brought him flowers, I hounded him at work, I flirted like a demon, and pretty much stalked his office until he finally agreed to go out with me because I was not going to give up on that cutie.”
Eijirou nodded and bit back the “sounds manly” that sat on the tip of his tongue.
“As it turned out, Masaru liked me, too, but was way too shy and stubborn to say anything,” Mrs. Bakugou said. She put her hand in her cheek and laughed. “He thought I was way out of his league, which is why he kept saying ‘No’, but I sure set him straight.”
“I’m glad it worked out,” Eijirou said. Considering the similarities between Bakugou and his mother, it would stand to reason that if he was interested in someone, he’d pursue them with the same fervor and manliness. Bakugou tackled everything that he wanted head on with no shame and no hesitation. If he wanted Eijirou, Eijirou would have known by now. “For you guys, anyway.”
“Kid, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Mrs. Bakugou said, voice still low. She put her hand on Eijirou’s shoulder and shook it. “I know it looks like my brat is a carbon copy of me, and Lord knows he took after me in all the worst ways, but when it comes to certain things, he is absolutely his father’s son.”
Eijirou turned his head to Mrs. Bakugou. “Yeah?”
“Which means if you want it, you’d better go get it,” Mrs. Bakugou said. She shoved Eijirou forward and shouted, “Hey! That’s enough pictures with Izuku! I want some shots with his other friends, too!”
“Yes, dear!” Mr. Bakugou said, laughing. He looked straight at Eijirou, a knowing twinkle in his eye that resembled his wife’s mischief. “Are you up next?”
“Yes,” Eijirou said, holding his hands up. “Absolutely!”
“Then get moving! I want out of these clothes as fast as possible,” Bakugou said, growling at his suit jacket. Eijirou swallowed at the image that popped into his mind and saved that thought for later. Bakugou looked up. “What are you grinning at?”
“Nothing!” Eijirou jumped over onto the background sheet next to Bakugou and threw his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder, leaning on his side with a laugh. “Let’s take some photos!”
The flash blinded him and Bakugou both, caught off guard by the sudden shot. Mr. Bakugou gave a thumb’s up and flipped the camera around to show off the candid shot of Eijirou smiling at Bakugou and the other with an amused smirk.
He really hoped he could keep that one.
“Alright, you losers get the hell out of my house,” Bakugou shouted, ripping off his tie and reaching up to ruffle his hair back into place. “Photoshoot’s over.”
“Fine by me,” Kaminari said, checking his phone for the time. He looked over the rest of the group as they gathered their new, free outfits and asked. “Who wants to go for dinner?”
“Sure!” Uraraka said. She grabbed Midoriya’s hand and dragged him over, but the grin on his face said he didn’t mind. “We’re in!”
“Same here,” Jirou said, throwing her thumb back at Aoyama and everyone else. She looked at Eijirou. “You coming?”
“Nah,” Eijirou said, waving his hand back and forth. “I think I’m going to hang around here and help clean up.”
She looked at him, then glanced at Bakugou and gave him a thumb’s up. “Have fun!”
“Are Kirishima and Kacchan not coming?” Midoriya asked as he grabbed his backpack.
“Nope! Let Kirishima settled down cranky Bakugou and we’ll have a nice time without them,” Jirou said, trotting over. She put her hand on Midoriya’s back and shoved him out the door with a wink over her shoulder.
Eijirou probably hadn’t been as subtle with his pining as he thought he’d been, but it was nice to know he had folks cheering for him.
He waved goodbye to his friends as they left the house, chatting happily about clothes and photos as they headed for a late dinner. Eijirou turned around, finding himself alone with Bakugou in the room as his parents had went back to the studio to clean. Bakugou popped open the top few buttons of his shirt and Eijirou sucked in a breath at the sight of his collar bone.
Eijirou could do this.
He’d even gotten parent’s permission!
“That wasn’t as bad as you thought, right?” Eijirou said, reaching up to ruffle his own hair. “And embarrassment was kept to a minimum.”
“You weren’t the one who had to pose with Deku for half an hour,” Bakugou said, snorting as he turned back around to face Eijirou. He frowned and batted Eijirou’s hands away from his head. “Your hair finally looks half-way decent for once. Leave it alone.”
Eijirou took his hands away from his head. “You really hate my normal hair style that much?”
“It looks stupid and you spend way too much time styling it every morning,” Bakugou said, not holding anything back. He darted his gaze away, fiddling with the tie in his hand as they stood there alone in the room. “It looks much better down, and I imagine the original color suits you fine.”
“And how do you know this red isn’t my original color?” Eijirou asked, leaning forward. He pointed at it, quite proud he always kept his roots in check. “Hm?”
“Because you changed your hair for some sentimental shit and you don’t do anything half way,” Bakugou said, putting his hands on his hips. “All or nothing means color and style, right?”
Eijirou laughed and ran his hands back through his hair, putting it back into place. “Something like that. You have to admit, though, the red fits the flashy look I’m going for much better than plain black ever did.”
“Nothing about a guy with teeth like yours is plain,” Bakugou said, flicking Eijirou in the head. His voice lowered as he shrugged off the tux jacket and flung it over the couch. “You sell yourself short too much.”
“I could almost say the same about you,” Eijirou said. He watched as Bakugou sat on the couch and he gathered all his courage to sit next to him. “You were so scared of all your friends coming over because you didn’t think they’d accept you or your parents outside of school, right? You don’t like it when people see you outside of a fight.”
“No, I didn’t want them over here because they’re annoying and I knew the old hag would make my dad take a thousand photos,” Bakugou said, huffing. “It was every bit the pain in the ass I thought it would be.”
“Even the pictures you and I got to take together?” Eijirou asked, knocking their shoulders together.
“Especially those,” Bakugou muttered, shifting in his seat.
He looked so adorable in that moment, Eijirou had a feeling he wouldn’t have even needed Mrs. Bakugou’s pep talk for the words that blurted out of his mouth: “Do you want to go out with me? Like on a date?”
“What?” Bakugou asked, half choking. “Where did that come from?”
“I think I’ve had a crush on you since like our team up in the Sports Festival,” Eijirou admitted. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, brushing against the collar of the suit he’d yet to take off. “But I’m secretly an anxious wreck and it took me seeing you in a tuxedo to finally get over the hurdle and ask you out.”
Bakugou’s mother also helped, but Eijirou felt like “Your mother said I should ask you out already” might affect Bakugou’s answer in a negative way.
Always best to stick with flattery.
“You look really, really good right now,” Eijirou said. He held his hands up and waved at the clothes, already halfway on their way to the floor. He channeled his earlier received advice and just went for it. What did he have to lose at this point? Bakugou was already gaping with wide eyes. “Like really good. Unfairly good and I would like to kiss you. Can I?”
Bakugou stared, his brain seemingly not computing what had just been asked. “What now?”
Eijirou laughed and leaned over, tackling Bakugou into a hug. He squeezed him tight and felt the expensive fabric squish between them as it wrinkled. “You are like my favorite person in the whole world. Please tell me I can kiss you.”
Bakugou shoved his hand onto Eijirou’s forehead and tried to push him off with half-hearted protests, but Eijirou kept his grip firm. “What has gotten into you?”
“I told you,” Eijirou said, leaning back so he could look Bakugou in the eye and loving the feeling of his hand on Eijirou’s head. “I saw you in a tuxedo and got to meet your parents and what better time is there to ask than now?”
Bakugou didn’t quite flush, but he definitely leaned back and bit his lip.
“Is that a yes or a no?” Eijirou asked. Mrs. Bakugou had told him to be aggressive, but being too forward wouldn’t help his cause either. If Bakugou really didn’t want it, he wouldn’t press. “It’s cool if you don’t know, too.”
“You’re worse than my mother when she wants something,” Bakugou said, pushing Eijirou’s hair back into place again. “She pulls this nonsense all the time, too.”
Being compared with his mom killed the mood a little bit, but Eijirou forgot all about it when Bakugou leaned forward and pressed their lips together and tugged Eijirou closer by his hips.
“I am framing this,” Eijirou said, leaning over Bakugou and pointing at the spread of photos that were laid out on Bakugou’s coffee table one fine afternoon about a week from the photoshoot. “We look so good! Like real models!”
“Of course we do,” Bakugou said, flipping through the various glossies he’d been tasked to organize. “My parents are pros.”
Eijirou, squeezed his arms around his boyfriend’s—boyfriend’s!—shoulder as he hugged him from the back. The other was warm and firm and Eijirou was so happy that these embraces finally came without an obligatory shove off. “Still, I’ve never been singled out for something like that before. It’s so cool!”
“Don’t let them hear you say that, or they’ll make you pose again,” Bakugou said, collecting the photos into a stack. He tapped them together in a pile before setting them aside to finish sorting the rest of the loose photos. “Give them an inch and they’ll take it for miles, and miles, and miles.”
Bakugou reached for the next stack of photos and Eijirou decided that this was the perfect time to distract Bakugou from his work after catching a glance of green hair. He kissed the other boy and scooted around to sit on his lap, discretely turning the next stack of photos upside down and out of sight.
“Is this neediness of yours ever going to wear off?” Bakugou asked, though there was no bite in the question. He returned the kiss and hugged Eijirou closer at the waist.
“Not in any foreseeable future,” Eijirou said, laughing into another kiss. His self esteem still wasn’t where he’d like it to be if just photos of Bakugou and others still got him insecure and jealous, but getting to see that fond gaze in Bakugou’s eyes helped chip away at it day by day. Eijirou pressed their foreheads together and grinned. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up!”
Bakugou laughed, his body shaking under Eijirou’s thighs and he loved that sound.
He loved this boy.
Eijirou kissed Bakugou again, making sure to remind himself to get Mrs. Bakugou something nice as a thank you next week and the week after and for the rest of his life as he got to know his future in-laws and every inch of their perfect son.