"I want to take a peak at those stitches" I say, taking my shoes off and hanging up my laptop bag. The ruined laptop is still on the dining room table and when Bakugo takes off his shoes and hat before sitting down with a huff. I throw away the pieces while grabbing the first aid kit that has been discarded on the kitchen counter.
He kicks out the chair next to him for me. After sitting down, I gently unwrap the bandages on his arm and leg. From the corner of my eye, it dawns on me that Bakugo had cleaned up the living room and tucked the bed away. The pillows we used are stacked neatly on one end.
"Did you clean them when you changed the bandage?" I ask.
"No. I'm not using that fucking pain spray." He grumbles.
"Awwwwe is a big stwrong hewo afwaid of some disinfectant?" I mock
"Oh for fuck sake!" He yells, snatching the spray from my hand and covering his own wounds with it, hissing as the liquid does it's job.
He slams the bottle down on the table and I stifle a laugh as I touch his thigh and prod around the stitches, examining my work while wiping away the excess moisture.
"I did pretty good." I comment, slathering it in a medicated cream and rewrapping the cut. It's not bleeding anymore but it still needs to be covered for a little while longer. The cut on his arm is much better and since it didn't require stitches, I just put the same cream on it and leave it unwrapped. It needs to breathe to heal well. I have a sneaking feeling that he'll end up with a couple scars from these, but I doubt it'll bother him since he already has several littering his limbs and what I saw of his torso.
"Cocky" he grumbles.
"I think you mean 'thank you, great l/n, I owe you my life and I'll do anything for you from this breath to my last'."
"Fuck you" He spits but the corners of his mouth tug up a small fraction of an inch.
"It's close but not quite right. Try again later." I playfully punch his shoulder, packing up the rest of the medical supplies and standing to put the kit in the kitchen. Bakugo stops me by grabbing my wrist. A jolt of electricity surges through my body from the contact as I look down at him but he keeps his eyes trained on the floor.
"Thanks.... brat" he tacks on at the end.
"Couldn't help yourself, could you?" I chuckle, pulling my arm away and ruffling his hair before putting everything away. For how spiky it is, it's surprisingly soft. "You hungry?"
"I could eat." He shrugs, joining me in the kitchen.
"I'll order something. What do you want?"
"We're not having bullshit food again. I'm cooking." He states, opening the fridge and finds food I definitely didn't put in there.
"Where did all this come from?" I ask, confused but grab the pots and pans he asks for.
"I called down to your doorman using that fancy buzzer next to the elevator and got him to collect a grocery order I called in." He replies, lighting the stove burner and starting to chop some vegetables while the drizzled oil heats on a skillet.
"You stocked my kitchen?"
"It wasn't for you, asshole. I'm not eating garbage take out food when home cooked food is so much better."
"And just how long do you intend to stay here?"
"Tired of me already?" He looks up from his current task and I take up a spot across the island to watch him from a stool. If I didn't know better, I would say worry flashed across his face.
"Gettin' there" I wink at him with a closed lipped smile. He rolls his eyes and goes back to cooking.
"Your recent mystery series is finishing up soon, right?" He asks, seemingly out of the blue.
"Yeah, why?"
"Did the sister do it?"
"You want me to spoil a masterpiece that I've been painstakingly crafting for two years?"
"Yes."
"I'm not going to tell you." Truth is, I set up the previous book so that I could easily make any of the characters the murderer. The sister is the one that I was leaning toward making the villain, but now I'm thinking it might be too obvious.
"Just a little hint?"
"Nope" I pop the 'p' on the word. Bakugo scowls but doesn't press the topic further. "What do you do for fun? Besides read, obviously"
"What?" He looks confused as he seasons some chicken and puts rice in the rice cooker.
"You know. Fun. After work hours when you're winding down for the night. Hanging out with friends? Video games? Drugs?"
"I'm a pro hero. Why would I mess that up with drugs?"
"It's called a joke. Come on. What's your thing?"
He just shrugs.
"You don't just work all the time, right?"
"I'll go to a bar with some friends when they ask, I guess."
When he doesn't continue, I pull my eyebrows together. "That can't be it."
"Well, you already know I read." He shrugs again.
"That's it. We're having a crafting day. You're going to find another hobby." I jump off the stool and go to a secret closet at the bottom of the stairs. When the panel pops open, several spools of yarn and a couple bolts of fabric come flying out at me. It's fine but I don't see the box on the top shelf falling and it hits my head, knocking me on my ass. It's not a heavy box, it just surprises me.
"Oi!" Bakugo yells, and rushes over, grabbing my arm and pulling me up from the pile of various crafting supplies.
"I'm fine. This happens a lot." I shrug my arm from his grip and make sure the bandage on my leg is still in place before I start to dig through all the options.
"I'm not fucking crafting." He grumbles, heading back to the food. I ignore him and keep collecting things, laying it all out on the dinning room table.
"Oh come on! It'll be fun!" I poke his side as he walks away. It smells delicious and I ignore his wishes by picking out four different crafts. The temptation to teach him how to knit crosses my mind. I'm already giggling at the image of him scowling over a pair of needles and angrily manipulating the yarn.
"Whatever you're cackling about over there, you better get it out of your head. It's not happening." He calls from the kitchen.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I feign innocence, stifling my laughter.
"Sure you fucking don't." He grumbles, bringing amazing looking food to the table as I bring the last of my options for crafts to the other side.
"We're not fucking doing any of that shit" He side eyes my haul while he shovels food into his mouth aggressively.
"I don't know if I've ever seen someone eat angrily." I tease, taking the first bite of my food. I let out a content sigh. "Alright. This is better than take out."
Bakugo just smirks. We eat in comfortable silence as I plan how I can get the grump across from me to craft. I think along with knitting, crocheting is out. No doubt he would melt the crochet hook the first time he dropped a stitch and that would probably set the yarn on fire. As amusing as that would be to watch, I don't want to burn down my apartment today. I put a puzzle on the table as a last resort, but I really can't imagine him scowling over that activity.
"What about painting?" I ask, putting away clean dishes that Bakugo washed. I told him I would take care of all of it, but he just grunted and started cleaning.
"What about it?"
"We could paint this afternoon!"
"No."
"Sketch."
"No."
"Sew."
"Fuck no."
"Cross stitch."
"That's basically sewing."
"How do you know that?"
"I-.... fuck off." He shoves the last clean dish at me, forcing me to take a step back.
"Fine. Pottery."
"You don't have a wheel here."
"So that's a yes?"
"No."
"Tarp painting." I wiggle my eyebrows at him
"The fuck is that?" He dries his hands and crosses his arms, leaning his hip against the counter as I finishing wiping down the surfaces.
"Painting. But on a tarp. With our bodies." It's an actual thing, but i'm clearly joking. At least I think I am. "... naked"
"That's a craft I can get behind. Or under. Whatever the lady prefers." He leans in close, putting his face inches from mine.
I push his face to the side with a playful eye roll "you perv."
"What the fuck are you talking about?!? YOU suggested it!"
"Puzzle it is!" I announce joyfully, offering him a full toothed smile.
"Y-yeah. Okay." He stutters, widening his eyes slightly.
What got him so flustered all of a sudden?
"Do you need to do something with your tattoo?" He asks, following me back to the table. I put all the other crafts in various chairs to deal with later.
I shake my head. "It needs to stay covered for a few more hours. Stop stalling"
"Let's get this over with." He huffs down into the seat next to me.
"Start sorting." I pour out the pieces and slide half over to him.
"This is stupid."
"Give it time."
"I'd rather be reading."
"But then you wouldn't get the gift of my company."
"I'd like to return this gift."
"Non refundable and before you ask, no you can't exchange it."
I take a chance look at him from the corner of my eye and see a soft smile on his face. Every time the scowl is replaced, warmth spreads in my chest and I wonder when I'll see it again. When the pieces are sorted, we start to work on the edges.
"Why did you become a pro hero?" I finally ask.
"At first it was because I wanted the villains to lose. That the bad guys shouldn't win and I wanted to be the one to win." He gets a couple pieces to click together and a flash of satisfaction crosses his face.
"And now?"
"I realized along the way that it wouldn't be enough to keep that fire burning for me." He shrugs "It can't just be about winning, it has to be about protecting people too."
"Better reason than some, I suppose." We go silent for a little while, finishing up the edges then shifting through the center pieces.
"Would you ever get your face tattooed?" He asks.
"That's an incredibly random question."
"Just fucking answer it." He grumbles
"I'm not sure. I have nothing against it, but if I ever decide to quit writing, I'll have to get a job where people see me and I don't want to fight the battle of finding employment with the stigma of face tattoos."
"You could always be a pro hero."
"My flabby ass could never. I'd be winded just walking to an incident."
"Your perky ass would look great in a full spandex suit." I try to form words but he barrels on "Besides, with your quirk and your ability to pin me, you have some real potential."
"It's not like it was hard to get you on your back" I grumble
"Trust me. Many have tried and all have failed." I keep my eyes trained on the puzzle but he leans in close to whisper in my ear "until you."
Heat flashes through me and pools in my center. I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.
"I'd love to see what else you can do." He pulls back just a little so I have space to turn and look at him. His face is relaxed and the smirk he has is playful rather than angry.
"I'm sure you would." I reply.
Acting on instinct, I put my arms around his torso, under his arms, and burry my face in his neck, shifting onto his lap and just holding onto him. He's tense for a moment before his arms come around me and I feel him relax into my hold with a sigh. He rests his chin on my head as he rubs small, lazy circles on my back.
"I thought you wanted to finish this puzzle?" He finally speaks the softest I've ever heard him. He may be rough and tough with a hard exterior but in this moment he's soft and gentle.
"The puzzle can wait. This is nice. I'm not too heavy am I?"
"Tch. Don't ask dumb questions."
"You should take your own advice sometimes."
"Oi!" He dumbs me off his lap onto the floor.
"Ow!" I stand and rub my lower back.
"Serves you right for being an asshole. Now sit and finish what you started." He gestures to the puzzle.
"You didn't even want to do this in the first place." I grumble, doing as he requested.
"Would you start writing a series and not finish it?"
"Yeah probably. Every so often I think about not publishing this last book in the mystery series you keep trying to spoil." I lie.
"WHAT? YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I... uh....YOUR READERS NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!"
"Readers. Yeah. Sure." I smirk
"You have to finish it. You made a commitment, you have to follow through." He passionately says, grabbing onto the front of my shirt and pulling me close.
"I'm fucking with you." I wink with a close lipped smile.
"You're such a brat" he mumbles, not letting go.
The red creeping across his cheeks is overly adorable and a full smile spreads across my face at the sight of it.
"Fuck, you're beautiful." He whispers.
"What was that?" My eyes go wide.
"I-... uh... I didn't mean to say that out loud." He drops my shirt, and looks away, trying to focus on the puzzle again.
"Where did that bullshit come from?"
"It's not bullshit, l/n. You're pretty all the time but when you smile...." he clears his throat, embarrassed. "I'm going to get something to drink. Want something?"
"Who are you and what have you done with Bakugo?"
"The fuck is that supposed to mean, shrimp?" He basically yells at me.
"There you are."