i do? - kiribaku

2. Hey, Girlfriend

She can say that again. If he'd wanted to get his appearance ruthlessly picked apart then put back together again piece by piece, he could've gone to Mina and received arguably more satisfactory results.

"God you can say that again," he scrubs a hand down his face, slapping both cheeks, and forces himself to focus.

They're only standing there for a couple minutes more in silence before the grand double-doors carved ornately of cherrywood suddenly fling open, startling him to attention.

People flood in after cursory checks by the guards at the entryway - Eijiro has to admit there's some embarrassment on his part at that. He understands that with so many pro heroes gathering in the same place, it's basically a perfect venue for any malcontented villain to take them all out at once. But that doesn't mean he doesn't hates the fact that ppl he's known for almost a decade now are being one step short of strip-searched.

He turns his face back to Kiyana, probably wearing what is no doubt a pained expression - if her equally wounded attempt at a smile is anything to go by.

-

Katsuki can already feel his anger swelling as this glorified bouncer pats him up and down for the second fucking time. And all because he'd gotten a little mouthy when his probing hands had reached the crotch area - how was he supposed to know that this was routine for Eijirou's new fancy-pants in-laws? Fucking humiliating, that's what this is. Sitting here getting frisked with the anger levels of a man who just watched someone shoot their dog.

Momo waits patiently near the entrance, a polite smile clearly masking the urge to laugh. God he already hates it here - when Eijirou had invited them here, he'd expected small, likely less torturous gathering of only him and their insufferable classmates. Not this pretentious bullshit.

Katsuki Bakugou rarely feels outclassed by anything, almost nothing can make him feel truly small, inconsequential, out of place. But this - the high ceilings, the crystal chandeliers, the gold-plated...everything - this makes him feel out of his depth.

There's nothing to conquer in this environment, no enemies to fight, just domestic socialization and smiling for the cameras. He hates that shit.

Blessedly, finally, they let him through like two cops releasing him into the custody of his "girlfriend". Momo extends an arm to him gracefully, pursing glossed lips to stifle a what is clearly building into a giggle. Great, his mood is already shit and they've barely stepped into the building. This night is going to be hell.

That said, he supposes there's always room for improvement.

"Hey buddy!" A familiar voice echoes as the full weight of a familiar body crashes against his own, nearing sending them both careening backward and ripping his arm from Momo's. Eijirou.

The redhead draws him into a hug that's far too tight and doesn't last nearly long enough - maybe it's a weird thing to notice, but he smells good, not like he usually does, but good nonetheless. Lavender and mint aren't typically Eijirou's M.O, but he supposes it must be a side effect of his new...fiancé.

Katsuki bristles at his own thoughts.

"Didja miss me?" Eijirou pulls back with a pat to his shoulder - is that really even a question when the redhead smiles that bright, genuine smile at him?

"Shitty hair," he grunts because a straight up 'yes' would be far too suspicious - and entirely out of character, by the way. Eijirou simply grins at him, blindingly.

God he looks good, all dressed up in a fancy suit and shit, hair pulled back into a bun, all broad shoulders and sharp edges. Katsuki feels like he's given himself whiplash just staring at him. And the situation doesn't get any better when the redhead slips an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in jovially.