#messedupmoon

[KIRISHIMA EIJIROU: AGE 20]

As much as he’d like to say that he’s a hero, and as much ashe technically has the paperwork that claims that he is, in the eyes of hishero branch he’s a sidekick. A sturdy, unflinching, and down-right stubborn oneunder the wing of one Pro hero by the name of Fatgum (and he’s been there sincethe second year of high school when he was just an intern).

“You can’t save them all,” Fatgum states, expression somber,the worst he’s seen in the longest of times. His gaze unwavering in his staring,outwards at the flash of red, white, and blue lights as emergency services tookover the scene. Three ambulances already filled, and at least three more wouldbe needed.

And Kirishima knew that, knew that no matter how much hetried sometimes things just happened and sometimes shit had hit the fan beforeyou could even do a damn fucking thingto stop it. “Two people died because we couldn’t—” he ground his teethtogether, clenching his eyes shut.

There were more than just the two of them on the scene—anyother hero could’ve done something. Kirishima could’ve done something—anything. He could feel his stomachroll, boiling as he seethed beside the taller man.

“I know,” Fatgum says and Kirishima looked to him, “I knowit hurts, and I know how frustratingit is. And there’s days I go home an’ I can’t bare to look at myself, an’there’s days I wish I didn’t become a hero.” The man is looking towards apolice officer radioing in with the walkie talkie on his shoulder. “But I am,and you are. So we owe it to everyone to put on our costumes, and come out herean’ save as many people as we can. And some days we can save everyone, an’ somedays we can’t. But at the very least we owe it to them to try, ‘cause who elsewill protect them?”

His words didn’t make it better, it didn’t make the angerwithin him smother in the slightest. But it made something in his prickle withunderstanding, with the acknowledgement that he too was feeling the same damnthing that Kirishima felt—and if he were to think back on it (and he would), he’dappreciate that that was the exact thing Fatgum had been aiming for. Toacknowledge that frustration and helplessness and tell him that every hero hadheld this way at one time, and that they needed to continue on for everyoneelse if not just for themselves.

-

Staring out the blur that passed, Kirishima stood with themasses on their commute home. Body swaying as a person bumped against him,“sorry” they mumbled and continued on. It was better than the person beforethem who said nothing. He got off at the next station, setting out with theflow of the crowd.

-

[BAKUGOU KATSUKI: AGE 20]

The front door slammed open, then back closed, sending thebirds into a twirl of fright and displeasure. Bakugou stilled, pausing in themiddle of his stirring head tilted as he listened to the new arrival slamanother door closed further down the hall. The blond man flicked the burnersoff, removing the pan from the element.

He left the kitchen, and check to the left towards the pairof discarded boots by the door—they were Eijirou’s. His first stop from therewas to the large bird cage to check on Blast and Red. “You’re okay,” he cooedat the pair, only for them start up again when a sharp crash and shatter ofglass sounded from the door his husband had tucked away into.

He bared his teeth, thefuck is wrong with him.

Bakugou left the birds and followed the pregnant silencethat always seemed to permeate after something broke—like the world, or theperson, was trying to decide if it needed to fracture more or if this wasenough—until it led him to their bedroom. The door was still closed, and whenBakugou pressed his ear to the door a different break greeted his ears.

The splintering of fake wood cracking, followed by theclatter of objects that had been on the very piece of furniture he had justbroke. Bakugou sighed, pulling away from the door and leaned up against thewall beside it. Listening for any further movement—there were none—beforetwisting the handle and pushing the door open. He counted to three before roundinginto the room, leaning against the doorframe.

It had been Eijirou’s nightstand.

Both shelves were discarded, tossed to opposite sides of theroom while the main frame splintered in two separate places a foot from wherethe door swung to. A plethora of miscellaneous shit scattered along the floor, therewere things on the bed—the lamp for one thing (good, picking up after alightbulb was never fun), the two picture frames he kept at his bedside wereanother. Bakugou’s gaze roamed back down to the floor, catching the glass thathe’d heard earlier. Just a regular glass than, not some memento.  

“Are you done with your tantrum?” He crossed his arms overhis chest, tone cautious. He’s seen Eijirou like this two other times in thespan of knowing each other, and each time it had Eijirou snapping out somethinghe didn’t mean. Eijirou’s temper was easy to pull the man out of, oncesomething allowed him a reprieve of his inner stewing—the whole battle was toactually shake him out of it.

The man was stubborn at the best and worst of times.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Eijirou quipped,lacking any of the usual warmth that accompanied it. Bakugou’s fist clenched, atwitch of his cheek the only sign that the man hit the nerve he’d been aimingfor.

It was a dig at him; they knew too much about each other forit not to be the case. It wasn’t just a prod at his temper but the IED as well.Bakugou clicked his tongue against his teeth, “don’t start with that Eijirou.You know the difference between them just as much as I do.”

“Yeah ‘cause thatexcuses it,” the redhead snorted, needling further. He was looking for a fight,and Bakugou could feel the temperature in the room drop as he pushed off thedoor frame. He really didn’t want toget into it with him when he was like this; it was like an open flame flirtingwith gasoline.

They’ve said things at each other in anger before, they’vefought like any couple, but this one hit harder than anything else—it was justsomething about how Eijirou was behaving mixed with the suggestion that hiswords provided.

It didn’t sit with Bakugou right.

He crossed the distance between them, brushing shit away ashe passed. Bakugou grabbed hold of the shirt he wore, pulling the other manforward then whipping him around and slamming him back into the closest wall. Hebarred his teeth, sneering up at his husband, "do I need to drag you outto some abandoned lot and have us kick the shit outta each other? 'Cause Ifucking will."

Eijirou blinked, mouth falling open. “That’s…” he stared,then stopped himself.

“It’s not anything but a couple of guys kicking the shit outof each other,” Bakugou stated, pushing back as he released the other’s shirt. Eijiroucouldn’t meet his gaze as he paused, it was somewhere locked on his neck. “Cleanthis shit up,” the blond sighed, “I’ll finish dinner.”

-

Eijirou found him in the living room with Blast and Red backout of their cage, the white bellied (Red) caique bouncing along on the coffeetable talking non-stop while the black headed caique (Blast) lay on his back inBakugou’s lap as the man played with his belly.

Bakugou glanced up, “you good?”

The other man sat, running his hand through wet strands ofred. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve—”

Bakugou snorted, “I’ve said worse shit to you when we’refighting.” That one just hit something still a little sore. “It’s payback, in away. Shows that even you, as fucking sickeningly sweet that you are, are pettyenough to hit at sore spots to start a fight. Makes me feel a bit better when Iknow I’m not the only fucked up one in this relationship.”

“Katsuki,” the other frowned, “don’t excuse this. I knew it’llhurt and I did it anyways. You’re always saying to not let you get away withthat stuff, so don’t let me either. I shouldn’t have brought this home with me—andI shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

He leaned forward, setting Blast on the table beside Red(who continued to Bop, Bop, Bop around talking to himself) before leaning backagainst the arm of their three-seater. “Then what’s fucking you up?”

Eijirou looked away, watching the two birds as Blast tackledRed and the pair began their wrestle. Bakugou sat silently, watching the otherman watch them, for what seemed like minutes. “Five people died; I could’ve gotthere sooner—I could have saved them.”The man looked up at him then, lashes full of unfallen tears.

And Bakugou got it—fuck, you never could forget those days.