Kirishima shifted, picking at the soft threads of his new shirt.
"Quit picking at it," Bakugou growled, swatting away his hand and brushing his hands down his chest to smooth it back down. If it was also an excuse to touch him, well, neither of them were going to complain about it. He glanced at Kirishima's nervous face and sighed, stepping closer and letting his hands rest at Kirishima's waist. "It's going to be fine," he promised quietly. "Stop worrying. It's just dinner."
Kirishima nosed at his temple, shakily exhaling. "Yeah, dinner with my future-in-laws, the King and Queen."
Bakugou smirked. "You realize you'll soon have a title too, right? Prince Consort?" he teased.
Kirishima flushed, covering his face. "I'm not prepared for this, Katsuki," he admitted. Uttering the Prince's first name aloud in the light of day gave him a rush and he fought the urge to just pull him close and kiss him senseless.
Bakugou didn't seem completely unaffected either, cheeks just a bit rosier now. "Trust me," Bakugou said, offering his hand.
Kirishima smiled lightly, taking a measured breath before sliding his hand in Bakugou's. "Always," he said.
Bakugou smirked, pulling him forward as he opened the doors to the dining hall.
"About time you showed up, you damn brat!" His mother called out, before pausing. "Who's this?" She was instantly at attention, focus igniting on their clasped hands. She grinned in pure delight. "Kirishima, I take it?"
"Why the hell do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" Bakugou barked, taking the seat to the right of his mother, who was sitting at the head of the long table. Bakugou gestured for Kirishima to sit beside him.
"Come on now, let's not argue in front of a guest," Bakugou's father spoke up from his mother's left, smiling from across from Bakugou. "It's nice to meet you, Kirishima."
"Katsuki here has absolutely raved about you," his mother input, grin mischievous.
"I have not," Bakugou growled.
Kirishima chuckled weakly, feeling absolutely out of his depth.
"Dinner is served," the servant came out to announce, interrupting Bakugou and his mother's glare down. He was followed by a trial of servants bringing plates full of food which they set in front of each of them. Kirishima quietly thanked the staff, shuffling uncomfortably as he eyed the multiple pieces silverware, absolutely lost. The older servant who'd given him his food smiled kindly and gestured to the fork on the far left.
"Move from the outside in," she whispered, giving him a wink before they all left the room with a swish of their skirts.
"So," Bakugou's mother began, grin just a bit too wild for Kirishima to feel anywhere in the realm of comfortable. He grabbed the outside fork to give himself something to do, stabbing a carrot and chewing it precisely twenty-two times before it was mush and he had to swallow. It was delicious, but that wasn't the point. "Katsuki asked you to marry him, huh?"
Kirishima cleared his throat, carefully focusing on getting a small piece of meat on his fork without making a mess or putting his other hand on the table, which he knew was rude. Or he thought it was. "Uh, yes, your majesty," he answered, fighting a stutter, embarrassed that his hands were still stained from his daily work and he hadn't been able to get them completely clean.
"And you told the brat no?"
"No," Bakugou input, sneering at her. "He said yes yesterday."
Kirishima tensed, heart pounding.
