Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He's living his dream, soaking in all he's ever wanted and worked for.
During the brief moment he let's his guard down, everything changes.
Tos...
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Your dreams were blurry and inconsistent, moving around from one scene to the next like shifting tides. Despite precarious footing, you felt...safe. Warm. Comfortable. Walking along the tightrope suspended above worlds that followed no rules and moved as though circling around a mountain range, planes flat one moment and jagged the next, didn't scare you. Not anymore. You knew that if you fell, if you were to stumble, you wouldn't be alone.
The alarm on your phone jolted you out of your bizarre dream and you slid further beneath the covers in a futile attempt to ignore it. Normally, your dreams were vivid and clear, even if they didn't make sense, but this one had almost visualized emotions more than anything else. Unfortunately, though, you couldn't stay in bed all day. Reaching out of your covers, you turned off the blaring alarm before kicking the sheets half off the bed. You knew that if you remained there you'd just fall back asleep, so sometimes drastic measures had to be taken.
You rolled out of bed and managed to land on your feet rather than your butt for once. "What day is it...Wednesday?" Early mornings always felt disorienting. Grabbing some clothes out of your dresser, you went to open your bedroom door and, for the first time in two weeks, felt no anxiety about who you might or might not find on the other side.
Peeking your head over the couch, you saw the now-familiar sight of Bakugo curled up on his makeshift bed, an arm draped over his face to obscure his features. Still, he looked tense rather than relaxed, his muscles twitching in the early morning sun cascading in from the window. Maybe a bad dream plagued him or he fell asleep still consumed with the whirlwind of events the previous day.
After showering and following your normal morning routine, you wrote him the usual note dictating when you'd be home from work with the addition of another sloppy smiley face. You grabbed a banana from the counter and turned when you heard Bakugo shift behind you, but he didn't wake.
He barely fit on the couch, the top of his head to the tips of his toes nearly spanning the entire length of the cushions. Maybe you should get him a blow-up mattress or something more comfortable for him to sleep on since you knew he'd be here for a while. Or he could sleep in your own bed, a stray thought whispered across the back of your mind.
"Oh, god," you whispered to yourself with burning cheeks as you locked the door behind you. It wasn't as though you hadn't thought - or dreamed - about it, but that was an intimate step that you weren't exactly sure how or when to take, or if he even wanted to take it. Speeding down the apartment stairs, you nearly tripped over your own feet in your rush to get to work and escape the stray thoughts of sexual-tension that creeped into your mind more and more everyday.
The previous day had been so busy that you failed to ask about the plan you'd been researching. Today, you'd gather up the last bits of research and present it to him tonight for an answer. If he liked it, great! The fact that you knew he'd be here through the weekend made things easier. If he hated the plan...well, you'd feel bummed out, but it just meant finding an alternative to keep him busy in an attempt to ease his boredom.
