Red Ink

Part 61 - Baked I

CONTENT WARNING: Weed Consumption

_______________

If his grogginess was anything to go by, he must've slept at least a few solid hours.

The setting sun lit the little guest room with golden beams and he couldn't be more grateful that he wasn't in that damn hospital bed again. His back still hurt from days and days of uncomfortably sleep.

With a weak groan, Kirishima shifted his legs off the side of the bed and tried to ignore the oncoming dizziness. It was his first day out of the hospital and the doctor told him he should take it as easy as possible; while the blood poisoning had been taken care of by Recovery Girl, his broken arm and head injury were left to heal on their own. If he was lucky, she might be able to heal him further once he wasn't so damn weak.

He shifted to stand up and almost immediately collapsed to his knees with a pained grunt. Frustration made him grit his teeth as he tried to regain his composure, but he wasn't used to feeling this way. He was Red Riot— a symbol of resilience. No matter what happened, he was still standing.

Well, not much right now; And it made his muscles feel even more wobbly with the added shame. He just wanted to be able to walk on his own again.

The door to the guest room slammed open and both Red and Katsuki stood wide-eyed in the doorway.

"Dammit, Ei. We've been over this," Bakugou hissed, walking over to the fallen man with a roll of his eyes and helping him to his feet. "You're fucking awful at recovery, y'know that?"

"I hate this. I feel so useless," Kirishima muttered. "How'd you know I was up?"

"You're fuckin' massive. Sounded like a damn fridge falling over."

Red put a hand on his arm once he was stable and leaning on Katsuki again. "You're allowed to be unproductive for a few days, Eijirou, but your recovery time will only go up the more you fight it."

Bakugou grunted in agreement. "Listen to your girlfriend. Forcing your way through healing makes it worse, dumbass."

The redhead grumbled to himself all the way down the stairs. They were right and he knew it but it was not what he wanted to hear. He resolved to be in a sour mood for the rest of the evening—

—until he smelled dinner.

Saliva started pooling in his mouth at the delicious aroma. They turned the corner and the table was set, complete with flowers in the center and beautifully plated food. Tink was at the head of the table already sneaking a bite.

"Hands off!" Bakugou barked.

"You're not in charge, she is," Tink retorted, pointing a finger at Red. "I think she's better than you, Kats. This is fucking good."

Bakugou shot her a look as he lowered Kirishima into his seat, but remained silent.

"I'm happy to cook for you anytime you like. It's the least I can do after you've given me a place to stay," Red said softly, giving a quick bow. "Thank you again. Really."

Eijirou was already shoveling the rice and meat into his mouth, but he was forced to hunch over the table because of his cast. "You've done it again, Red. Holy shit," he said through a muffled mouthful. Tink was following suit, sighing in satisfaction.

Bakugou and Red were sat across from each other. He stared at her with narrow eyes, the two of them locked in a psychic showdown. To his surprise, she offered him a knowing smile. A challenging smile. A surge of competitive adrenaline made him chuckle back at her and he raised a bite of steak to his mouth, moving slowly for dramatic effect. He kept his eyes trailed on hers like a damn cowboy standoff.