#it rlly rlly is

alignment - k. bakugou

—/—

You run warm, you always do.

You blister the skin of his fingers, leave him rubbing the pads together- trying to replicate what the fire beneath your skin feels like.

And Bakugou will never say it out loud, not for all the fame and fortune and glory in the world, but he likes the way you make him itch. He likes the way bugs crawl up his arms at your breath against his collarbone. The way he always feels some raw, giddy thing clogging up his throat.

So he races to shuck off his uniform, rushes in the shower. All but trips over himself putting on a pair of boxers. He’s clean now, and he knows you much prefer him clean, but it’s been 3 entire weeks and Bakugou kind of wishes he could skip some of those steps.

You’re asleep when he finally sees you. Face pressed against his side of the bed, nuzzling into his pillow. Suddenly that raw thing stopping up his throat threatens to break.

He brings you in, a gently as he can. One hand at the base of your spine, pressing you against his chest as he lies down. The other cradles the back of your head, squirming until he can feel your breath just under his ear (where it should be). His pillow smells distinctly of you and Bakugou feels some integral part of his world realigning.

He feels you shift beneath his fingers. Just minutely. Just barely.

“Say a goddamn thing.” He warns into the dark. “I’ll get up right now.”

You smile against his neck. Wrap your arms around his broad back. “Mhm. I know. Mission go okay?”

“No. ‘m fine though.”

He feels his stomach go a little funny at the way you pull him even closer then. At the way you pet gently at his hair, soothing at the wisps of blonde just behind his ear.

“Oh, okay.” You sigh, and he can feel it against his neck. “So we’ll talk about it in the morning then.”

“‘m not talkin’ about shit.”

You just huff a laugh at that, and it feels like he’s falling through the Earth. The mission really had shaken him, regardless of what he refused to say, and something about the weight of you in his arms suddenly feels like everything - like the summation of all his sweat. Like the totality of all the raw power pooling in his palms, and what it means to finally love something more than the tingling in those fingertips.

He’d give it all up. Swears he would if you just asked - but you never do. You just kiss him. On the lips when he leaves, and on the forehead when he returns.

He feels it now too - that featherlight kiss against his forehead. You’re careful, never too much pressure.

Sometimes, when’s he tucked away in yet another too-cold corner of the world, Bakugou will touch his own forehead. Just two fingers against the center of his temple, for only a moment. It never feels the same. Not quite right, too much pressure; but he’s come to think of it as his good luck charm. Something to remind him to make it back home safely, no matter what the mission is.

“Missed you.” You’re blinking away some watery, tight thing, clearing your throat. “Felt like forever this time.”

He agrees. Can feel the full force of that agreement clogging up his own throat, but he’ll never let it tumble out. So he just scoffs, pinches lightly at the back of your leg that’s resting across him.

“Brat.” He mumbles against the crown of your head. Hopes you can’t feel the way his lip threatens to quiver. “Learn to be patient. I always fuckin’ come back, don’t I?”

“You do.”

“Mhm, so stop worryin’ so much.”

Moments like these, he wishes he could be a little softer. That he could offer you the “I missed you too” that you so obviously deserve. But he can’t. He tries, tries so hard, he swears he does, but the words never come out right.

“I’ll stop worrying if you will.” You say, and there’s some tiny, playful lilt that has his stomach filling up with dread. “Speaking of, Midoriya is such a sweet-heart, you know? Really kind about checking up on me these past few weeks.”

“Is he now?”

“Yeah. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Nope.”

You pinch his leg, and Bakugou feels his chest go molten. He thinks that you’re similar. That you match. It warms him all the way up inside.

The room goes quiet, and he lets you guide his head until he’s looking right into your eyes. You don’t say anything, but sometimes he likes this part the most. When all is said and done and you’re still looking back at him. It makes him feel like he’d finally done it. Like he’d finally completed whatever stressful, worrying task was still hanging over his head. Like he’d finally come home.

“Lets sleep.” You finally offer, voice a whisper. “You know, so you can wake up early? Catch the sunrise?”

There’s light filtering through the blinds. A halo around your face. Orange just beginning to filter through the white slats of the blinds.

The sun is already rising and Bakugou thinks he could never love anything but you ever again.

“Sounds good.” He bites his lip, looks away. “Almost perfect.”

“Almost?”

“You gotta wake up too.”

You squeal something happy, and he lays his hand over your mouth; unable to stomach the way such sounds always make his brain fuzz over.

You’re warm beneath his fingertips once more, and all at once everything is as it should be. That integral axis realigned.

—/—

lmaooooo wrote that hc list n now i cant stop thinkin bout pro-hero!bakugou,,,, literally so down bad rn dhmu

actually jk pls do hmu bc i miss talkin to y’all