A Flower's Affection (KiriBaku Flower Shop AU)

Katsuki Bakugo-Spilling the Tea

I almost made the chapter name a Dora meme. And I have no idea why. Wait, yes I do, I'm a crackhead, I don't need another reason.

        Katsuki woke up Thursday morning warm, and comfortable, and in a terrible fucking mood. He was really beginning to detest these stupid ass dreams of his.

        Stupid fucking brain, knowing how to not make him realize. Fucking figures out that rama-drama knocks him out of la-la land, so it fucking angst smacks him instead. Well, way to go brain, you fucking did it. HAPPY NOW? Fucking, making him feel actual feelings and all that shit. Turning mental Shitty-hair into an actual fucking person he can be concerned about. Making him relatable.

        Maybe his brain was trying to tell him something. Maybe he needed therapy. Or counseling. Or something else equally as shitty.

        Katsuki growled and glared at his alarm clock, set to go off in half an hour. He'd woken up early, but that wasn't really unusual. It just meant that he was going to have a shitty day. Hurrah.

        He shifted to sit up and throw his legs over the bed in an attempt to start his day, but his movement was stopped by something heavy. And warm. And what the actual fuck was laying on him?

        Katsuki turned to snap, and he froze. It was a person. Of course, it's a fucking person, thank you, brain.

        Shitty-Hair looked different when he slept. Kirishima looked different when he slept. Was Katsuki allowed to call him Eijiro? He'd have to ask. Fucking, later, brain.

        For now, Katsuki's brain was allowed to call him Eijiro. He'd ask otherwise later.

        And there would be a later, because it was real. He'd really kissed him last night; twice attempted, once succeeded. He'd really asked the himbo redhead to be his boyfriend, and he'd really agreed.

        Katsuki settled back onto his bed, trying not to make it obvious that he was watching the redhead sleep--since, y'know, that would make any normal person uncomfortable, and he hadn't a clue what it might do to Kiri's anxiety. Which was a new revelation, but not surprising. With all the redhead's ticks, his fidgety energy had to be either ADHD or anxiety.

        He looked like a puppy when he slept, but only because angels didn't look all pouty and pampered like this. His red hair was an absolute mess of half-up spikes, falling apart where the gel had failed last night. His eyes were loosely closed, giving Katsuki a full view of the little scar on his right side.

        As Katsuki soaked in every detail of his sleeping boyfriend, the redhead shifted in his sleep, the arm looped around Katsuki's waist going taut and pulling him further against the strongly muscled chest he had admired more than once. But he'd never been close enough to notice the sunkissed freckles falling down his neck to disappear beneath his t-shirt or the faint pattern of cracked scars left behind by his quirk. Eijiro Kirishima, in all regards, really was a beautiful man.

        Said beautiful man made a soft noise telling Katsuki that he was awake, but only just barely. The blonde watched as he wrinkled his nose and yawned widely, showing off the sharp teeth. His arm came off Katsuki so he could stretch, attempting to push himself in a sitting position. But he couldn't, because his other arm was trapped beneath Katsuki.

          But it took Kiri a long few seconds to realize this. He gave an experimental tug while he rubbed at his eyes with his other hand, eyebrows falling into clear confusion when his arms didn't budge. He grumbled incoherently to himself, slowly opening his eyes and letting them fall sleepily on Katsuki.