| we could be heroes | kiribaku |

we could be heroes | part 1

Bakugo glanced down the small space, signaling for Kirishima to follow. It was eerily quiet in the building, save for the soft taps of their shoes on the concrete floor. Even the wind was silent, tousling the soft locks of blond hair around the explosive hero's face. He would think it quite peaceful, if he weren't chasing a killer. When the duo reached an opening, he paused, turning around.

"It's probably a trap. I can't see anything from here, but there's a lot of open space." Kirishima cocked his head to the side, frowning in thought. 

"We don't have much of a choice. We can't just let him escape."

"No shit, dumbass. We have to come up with a plan," Bakugo said, he pinching the bridge of his nose. The two were currently crouched on the second level of an abandoned parking garage, hiding behind the cement pillars. They had been chasing this villain for weeks, tracking the sniper all over the city. This was the closest they'd gotten to solving the case. The media was all over them as well, adding to the pressure already pressing unto the partners. "I'm all out of ideas." 

*click*

"Maybe we should just blow the place-" Bakugo threw his hand over his boyfriend's mouth, putting a single finger to his own lips. The two listened for any sort of movement in the silence, senses heightened. There was a slight shuffle, a clink of metal on metal. The redhead pulled the hand off his mouth, asking the silent question with his wide eyes.

Bakugo sucked in a shallow breath, turning to peek slightly into the open space. He winced when his boot scraped the dirty ground, the sound almost deafening in the tense silence. The air seemed too thick for his lungs as he forced himself to inhale, exhale. 

As soon as his eyes met the back wall, gunfire erupted, causing him to jerk away. He could feel his blood pounding through his veins, making him shake. He pressed his back to the pillar, eyes squeezed shut, and Kirishima's hand gently slipped into his. His grip was firm, grounding.

The shooting stopped, another heavy silence weighing upon the heroes. Bakugo managed to calm his breath, and he pressed his back hard into the concrete behind him. He shifted closer to Kirishima's side. However, the next sound made him freeze in place, eyes widening.

"You can't hide from me, little heroes." The sniper's shoes scraped along the floor, growing louder with each step. "So valiant, saving society from the big, scary villains. Lies!" The sound of glass and metal shattering echoed across the barren garage. "Cheating the people for glory! You do not deserve the title of hero!" The footsteps stopped, and another click could be heard.

Bakugo let go of Kirishima's hand and stood, turning away from the redhead. "We have no choice," he whispered hoarsely. "We'll have to rush him." 

"Katsuki, wait-"

"You draw his fire, I'll take him out from behind. Got it?" Kirishima looked down, eyes searching the floor. When he finally looked up, he nodded, and Bakugo turned his back once again. 

***

Bakugo's stomach ached, and he held the pillow tighter to his chest. Although it was only Tuesday, he remained in a simple pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, curled up on the couch. Kirishima was sprawled out on the floor, contemplating taking a nap in the bathtub.

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted your cooking skills. Those eggs were most definitely not cooked. And did you even read the expiration date on the butter?"

"Well, at least it's a day off, right?" Kirishima responded sheepishly.

The pair had made the unfortunate mistake of letting the red hero cook dinner the night before, and now they were suffering from the consequences. The result that had come off the stove was just short of a slimy mess, but when you're exhausted at two in the morning, you tend to overlook those kinds of things. If only they'd known the pain of tomorrow.