Snowed In

Part 16

When Bakugou wakes up, again he's alone. Maybe, he thinks, he should just get used to it. He's done it for the entirety of his life up until this point, so it shouldn't feel as disappointing as it does when he looks over to find the pillows and blankets disheveled, but empty. His body feels heavy, mind foggy. It's probably later than he meant it to be by the looks of how bright the sun is shining through the curtains.

Getting out of bed, it feels like he's been hit by a truck. Like he just finished an eighteen hour shift at the firehouse and only just went to bed a few hours ago before having his alarm go off. Like wrecking his car a few days ago was finally taking its toll. Mentally and physically exhausted, but still he drags himself up and out of bed with his stomach being the driving force, just ahead of his irritation of being alone.

The bathroom is empty after a quick inspection, so Bakugou pulls a blanket over his shoulders and shuffles out into the living room which is also empty, but the soft echo of music does welcome him.

It's soft, but he recognizes the song instantly-- Last Christmas by Wham!, a song which is practically on repeat over the course of the holiday season in every store he goes into and here, even in the thick forested town hidden away in the mountains, it still haunts him.

Typically, he'd be annoyed. One of the things he hated most about Christmas besides the overly affectionate people and the blinding decorations was the music-- the same list of songs on repeat over and over for a month straight every single year until you die. He's threatened physical violence on work shifts that had more than one hour of holiday songs playing over the speakers in their lounge-- Inasa physically holding him back because Todoroki found it funny and Camie genuinely liked the overplayed melodies.

Standing in the hallway just beyond the kitchen right now had him feeling an entirely different reaction. Hearing the stupid freaking song softly play out over a radio or phone filling up the space of the kitchen and den, but just behind it-- a little off key and softer even-- is Kirishima's voice singing along.

He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to know what those words sound like when coming out of his mouth, but here he is frozen in the hall just listening to the offhand singing of Last Christmas in a manner that suddenly has his chest aching.

The anger he felt upon waking up disappears. He schools his expression, clenches the blanket a little tighter in his grasp, and steps forward.

There, in the kitchen, stands Kirishima who looks much the same from the first morning Bakugou woke up in this house. He's shirtless, only in his boxers, stirring the contents of a bowl while singing. At his feet, Riot lays on the tile making his owner dance around him. At the sight of Bakugou in the hallway, the dog lifts his head and lefts out a 'boof' of hello. Immediately, Kirishima turns around with a smile on his face to greet him. There's what appears to be a little bit of flour dusting his collarbone.

"Morning, Bakugou! Merry Christmas!"

He smiles back at him. "Merry Christmas."

It's genuine. He's not saying it out of obligation, he realizes. Not some automatic response to end a quick store-run interaction or the kind of grunted out words he would say to his parents typically come this very morning last year or all the years before. No, he says it instead wanting to. Wanting someone to know for the first time in a very, very, long time that it was supposed to be a time of celebration. That he was happy.

Bakugou moves to lean over the kitchen island, peering in on what the other man could possibly be making while not wanting to get in the way. He's suspecting pancakes by the batter being beaten away in the bowl. There's a pan heating up on the stove, another right behind it that sizzles with bacon, and a pile of strawberries sits on a cutting board on the counter washed and sliced into messy looking chunks.