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Affairs of the Heart

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About two seconds into the kiss, you found yourself coming back to your senses, realizing that oh my god, you were kissing your ex’s best friend. Shocked at your behavior, you jerked your head and arms back. Kirishima was left with a startled look on his face, his hand drifting up to brush at his lips as he tried to decipher what had just happened.

“Oh God, I am so sorry, Kirishima,” you spluttered. Face burning in embarrassment, you searched for a way to bail yourself out of the uncomfortable situation. You were absolutely mortified. “I-I don’t know what came over me.” You looked up at him, scooting yourself further down the couch just in case you were tempted to do the same thing again.

“No, it’s okay,” he responded, chuckling and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought or dreamt about it.” The comment made you freeze, eyes wide.

“…What?” Kirishima’s face went scarlet as he realized declaration he had just made. He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was just a simple statement to make, like it didn’t have an undercutting importance behind it. Granted, in a less tense situation, you may have brushed it off, jokingly said the same thing back – even if you weren’t really joking. But in this situation, it all felt too real. Kirishima had seriously admitted to thinking – and dreaming? – about kissing his friend’s ex-girlfriend – had admitted to a pretty big breach of friendship law. Had he thought about anything else?

“Wow, I, um, that was…that was super inappropriate.” He struggled to find his bearings, stumbling over his words. You chuckled to yourself.

“I mean, I was definitely significantly more inappropriate, so I think we’re even. Chalk it up to a weird mood and forget about it?” Kirishima laughed along with you and nodded, accepting your bailout of the awkward situation. Even still, the mood felt different than before. A hidden apprehension hung in the air.           

“So, um, would you like any tea or wine now?” You pushed yourself off the couch. You really didn’t want him to leave yet – you weren’t sure if you were alright to be alone – but you needed to do something else to get your mind off what had just happened. “I might also have some beer if you’d prefer.” 

“A glass of wine would be great,” he said.

You made your way back to the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to look back at the man, catching his eye. He smiled at you happily, the corners of his sharp eyes crinkling gently.

As you pulled a pair of wine glasses from a cabinet, you took a moment to catch your breath and get a handle on your emotions again. You really didn’t know what had come over you. Some impulsive part had just taken over and led you to make a less than ideal decision.

The thin glasses clinked against the granite softly as you set them down. Your hands were shaky as you poured the rosé into them, a few drops of the pink liquid spilling onto the counter and streaming over the side.

“So, anything interesting happen since I left you this afternoon?” you called out, hoping to diffuse the weird energy that still lingered. Setting the bottle back down and wiping up the stray drops with a quick swipe of a paper towel, you picked up a glass in each hand to carry back to the living room.

“Actually, Sero and I were called out to deal with a building collapse in midtown about an hour after you left.” You outstretched one of the glasses to him and he accepted it with a nod. “Thank you.” He took a generous sip before continuing. “They suspected that a villain may have planted a bomb or something, but when we got on site, they told us that a large water heater had exploded and caused the collapse. It wasn’t villain-related, but it was still fulfilling anyway.”

“How so?” You settled back into your seat.

“We managed to get everyone out of building without any deaths. Some people had to be rushed to the hospital because of broken limbs and head wounds, but there weren’t any casualties.” He paused, brushing his finger around the rim of his glass. “Something about it just made me glad I became a hero all over again.”

Nodding, you hummed in response, taking a sip of the wine – it was definitely one of the expensive bottles, nothing cheap tasted that good.

“What about you? Anything interesting happen working as a…” He stopped; his brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, I know you’ve told me a hundred times, but I still don’t think I fully get it.”

“For the sake of time, you can just say I’m a consultant.”

“Right, yeah, that’s the word.”

“And not much really happened today. I’ve finally had some down time that I haven’t gotten the past few weeks.”

“That’s great!” Kirishima said enthusiastically. Not quite the response you expected for such a bland comment on your part. “You said that you’ve been stressed, so it must be nice to have some down time.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

The next hour and a half progressed in a similar fashion, with the two of you swapping stories about your days, which morphed into a conversation about how you decided on your jobs, to your goals for the future, to full-on existential conversation that for a while you hadn’t thought Kirishima would be apt to participate in. As the night wore on, though, you started to feel guilty for keeping him at such a late hour.

“Sorry it’s so late now,” you said, looking up at the clock. “I really shouldn’t have called you in the middle of the night.” He smiled and just shook his head in response.

“I already told you it’s fine, but if you want me to leave, I will.”

“No!” you burst out, a little too emphatically. “No, I, uh, that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh? It’s not?” His right eyebrow raised just enough to be teasing. His brief response left you at a loss for words, unsure of how to explain yourself and the warmth of incoming blush crept up your face. Suddenly, you found yourself back in the awkward mood from earlier, where tension hung in the air like a ripe fruit and nervous energy pulsed through your veins as liquid electricity, urging you to stand, move, do anything but sit there. You fought it off, instead twirling the last sip of rosé before downing it.

“No, it isn’t,” you mumbled. “I just didn’t know if you had to work early tomorrow or something.”

“I have to run patrol tomorrow night because, you know, I switched shifts with someone, but besides that I don’t have to work.”

“Oh, okay. You can stay if you want.”

The clock ticked faintly in the background as the two of you sat silent once the conversation had died out. Your heart seemed to drum in your chest at the exact same pace, one beat per second, loud and heavy, and your breathing was slow, deliberate. Setting your now-empty glass on the coffee table, you twiddled your thumbs and searched for another way to occupy your hands. A soft click sounded next to you. Looking over, you saw Kirishima also doing away with his finished drink. You made brief eye-contact but you quickly broke it.

The cushions to your left sunk under Kirishima’s shifting weight as he slid closer to you on the couch. As his thigh pressed up against yours, you looked down to where they touched and then back up to his bright, captivating eyes. He looked at you with crimson irises that seemed to burn through everything you were. The room seemed to shrink. All you could see was the man right before you, his eyes boring into yours as he tried to search for something – what, you didn’t know.

His hand rested against your cheek, large and warm. Slowly, he pulled you forward into a kiss and this time, you were not planning to pull away. Leaning into it, you threaded the fingers of one hand in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck and twisted the fingers of your other hand into the back of his t-shirt, stretching the cotton. His free arm wound around your waist. With a swift yank, he closed the gap between the two of you and his muscled arm kept you snug against his broad chest. You savored the warmth.

Gradually, you were pushed backwards until your back was on the couch. Kirishima’s hands unwound and he tugged at the bottom of your shirt, urging you to remove it

“Mmm, wait, wait,” you mumbled against his lips, pushing at his eager hands. Kirishima released his hold and pulled back from your lips, concern painted across his face. “I’m not telling you to stop,” you continued with a chuckle. “Just, not here.” You stood, taking his hand so he would follow you. Grinning and standing up as well, he poked you in the side, just under your ribcage, causing you to squeal in surprise. “Hey!”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” His hands lifted to either side of his head in defense, his eyes looking up and away from you.

“Oh, ha ha.” You turned back around to continue guiding him, but the minute your back was to him, he poked you again. “Stop it!” Giggling, you whipped around to find Kirishima’s hands at-the-ready for another round of jabs. “No, no, no!” You darted off toward the bedroom, shrieking with laughter as he chased after you. Just past the door, he managed to catch you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up off the ground.

“No one escapes me!” he declared, throwing you forward onto the bed. He pinned your hands on either side of you, narrowing his eyes at you until your giggles petered out, leaving only a comfortable silence. Leaning down, you kissed you once again.

It was faster, more heated than before, needier. He tugged at your clothes and you happily complied, clumsily yanking off whatever you could grab hold off, all while trying to maintain the makeout session. It was inelegant and awkward, all pointed elbows and bony knees knocking into one another, but it didn’t matter. Everything felt right, dorky as it was.

Kirishima leaned back to pry off his own clothes, his shirt getting swept away in one smooth motion while you struggled to unbuckle his belt. The cool metal clicked in your hands, taunting you as you failed to pull it from his hips in your blind pursuit. Kirishima laughed heartily, placing his hands over yours to guide the motions. Once undone, you ripped it from the loops, tossing it over the side of the bed. His pants followed close behind.

“[Y/N].” You froze, surprised by the use of your first name. Kirishima perched himself on his elbows, hovering above you, before he continued. “I need to know that you actually want to do this. I know it might make stuff complicated and-”

You yanked him back down, pressing your lips against his. Like hell you were letting him stop now.


You awoke the next morning to first light streaming through your windows. Damn, must have forgotten to close the blackout curtains again, you thought, rolling over and rubbing at your eyes. What time is it? Turning to the left, you reached out for your phone on the nightstand. Except, your arm smacked straight into a naked chest. Bolting upright, you whipped your head over to find Kirishima sleeping next to you, red hair pressed flat in some places from sleep and dye rubbing off onto your freshly-washed white pillowcases.

Right. That had actually happened. You were expecting it to have been a weird sex dream that would result in you not being able to look Kirishima in the eye for a week.

The redhead stirred, grunting as he opened his eyes blearily. Noticing you sitting upright and probably looking down at him with a panicked expression, he shifted, laying his head on his hands, and smiled up at you. Yanking the sheets up to cover your chest in an attempt to maintain some sense of decency, you gave him a small smile back.

“G’morning.” His voice was deeper than normal, raspy from sleep, and the way he murmured the words brought you back to the previous night, making your face flush.

“Good morning.” Out of fear that he didn’t feel the same way you did about yesterday, you waited for him to completely wake up before you said anything more. No need to incriminate yourself until you’d confirmed that Kirishima didn’t think it was a mistake. Slowly, he pushed himself into a seated position, bumping shoulders with you.

“Last night was fun,” he said, nudging you as a massive grin spread across his face. You felt yourself mirroring it instinctively.

“Yeah? You don’t regret it?”

“Mmm.” He paused to think, sliding his hands through his hair to get it into a more manageable shape. With the leftover hair gel still in it from the night before, the strands had taken to forming a crunching bird’s nest, refusing to be tamed. “No, I don’t. I may have to do some explaining to Bakugou, but I don’t regret it.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing to retrieve his boxers. Automatically, you averted your gaze, not feeling as bold as you had a few hours ago. You heard the sound of fabric being slid up skin and you managed to turn back to see him now somewhat modest.

Kirishima lifted his crumpled clothes from the floor, holding his shirt up before him with outstretched arms. It had wrinkles everywhere and had somehow acquired a mysterious stain since he’d lost it the night before, a small patch of rusty orange spread near the collar.

“Here, let me see if Katsuki left anything that you could wear,” you offered, pulling the sheets with you as you stood and walked to his untouched dresser in a far corner. With how little you’d touched it the past few months, it had accumulated a thick layer of dust on its surface and the drawers stuck when you tried to pull them open. A few good tugs and you managed to get the top one open. Nothing. You checked the rest of the drawers, coming up empty-handed until there was only one left, the largest at the bottom. Yanking it open, you found yourself greeted by folded black cloth. It was one of Katsuki’s old skull t-shirts, the kind he had worn back in his school days. It would probably be a little small on Kirishima, but it was the best you had. You pulled it out.

As you freed it from the dresser, a gentle thump followed, the sound of another item being knocked over. Curious, you set the shirt down beside you, glancing back into the drawer for whatever else Katsuki had accidentally left in your apartment. There, tucked in the farthest right corner, was a small black box on its side. You stuck your arm in to dig it out, the soft velvet along its outside brushing against your fingers, and managed to hold the item in front of your face.

It was a small black box. As if compelled by some unseen force, you found yourself opening it. You already knew what was in it and you didn’t need the finishing blow, but you couldn’t find the ability to stop yourself. It clicked open.

And there it was, reflecting the dim light around you: a three-carat diamond engagement ring.