Archive of Our Own ^beta

The setting sun on the horizon finally melted into the night sky as Kirishima slumped onto the front stoop of Toyomitsu’s Saloon after finishing his shift in the downstairs parlor. The nighttime crowd was usually busier and more rambunctious than the slow morning risers and the locals who would occasionally show up in the afternoon, so Kirishima’s help wasn’t needed until the later hours when the drifters and caravans rolled into the small desert town of Sabasuna.

As he began closing his heavy eyelids and took a few breaths deep enough to taste the cool evening air hiding beneath layers of sand and dust, Kirishima found himself reflecting on his unexpected arrival and eventual residency in the town. He himself had once wandered the great expanse of the desert, relishing in the freedom that came with the sun beating down on his back as he pushed his horse, Crimson, as fast as he could go across the searing land. How the unforgiving winds and sandstorms would redirect him to a new place he had never been before, joining bands of travelers under the moon, and listening to stories of adventures he could only hope to encounter. It was a shame that the enchanting pull of adventure is what had left him and Crimson unable to leave Sabasuna. Kirishima may have seemed like a lawless drifter to anyone passing by, with his once wild long red hair and rough appearance, but he had been raised with a strong sense of justice that occasionally pulled him in one direction or another. His desire to have some heroic connection usually led to him sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong.

Kirishima had been passing by a ranch that at first seemed abandoned, the doors and windows busted into splinters and shards of glass, and the animal pens demolished and left in a state of disrepair. However, upon closer inspection, it was revealed that a rancher and his family had been robbed and beaten by some thug named Rappa. Kirishima still remembers the hollowness of his stomach as he helped the family clean up. How his hands shook from rage and despair as the family broke down, unable to comprehend how they were to go on with no cattle or sheep, many of which they found senselessly shot in a nearby field. At the time, Kirishima had recently struck gold in a mining town with more luck than he had been expecting and convinced the rancher to take what he had so the family could start their life again. The man was gracious, albeit concerned for Kirishima’s sake, since most who travelled the desert slowly became like the land – unforgiving and unlucky. Not to mention he read Kirishima like a book.

“You’re going to go after that thug, ain’t ya stranger.” The rancher stated. Kirishima grinned cheekily as he began to climb up on Crimson, turning to face the man once he was ready to set off.

“I’m not gonna search for him, necessarily. But if I do happen to find him, I’ll make sure to send him to an early grave. What this ‘Rappa’ guy did to you and your family just isn’t manly mister, and I will challenge that son of a bitch to a duel if I get the chance to.”

“Don’t waste your life kid,” the rancher grimaced, shaking Kirishima’s hand and thanking him again before Kirishima rode off to wherever the desert winds would take him.

Apparently, the desert wind decided it was going to take him straight to Rappa.

Considering it had only been a few days since his fateful meeting with the rancher and his family, the lingering emotions of rage and injustice hadn’t dissipated enough for Kirishima to fully think through the whole “I’m gonna challenge this bitch to a duel” mindset (but in all reality, he wasn’t going to think it through anyways). He had only just rode into a small town when he saw a man, arms bulging with muscles and standing almost as tall as Kirishima was on his horse, challenging the owner of a saloon to a fistfight. The other man, reaching an impressive height of 8’2”, was big and intimidating even without any visible muscle. Kirishima had a feeling that the man was probably jacked under the giant poncho he was wearing, since his lack of posturing was exuding just as much confidence as the guy who was yelling for a fight.

“C’mon big guy, raise those fists! It’s been ages since I’ve had a decent brawl!” The man with the large arms had his face hidden by a bandana and a large ten-gallon hat, and his demeanor mixed with the outfit would have been comical if he hadn’t looked ready to kill.

“I’ve already told you; I will not fight. You’re scaring my customers and I’ve got more important things to do than humor a stranger who only wants to duke it out.” The saloon owner was now standing protectively in front of the door to his building, a 3-story bed and breakfast from the looks of it, with a well-worn and cared for exterior. The place was homely yet still had enough of a presence to represent the man who owned it.

“Whaddy’a mean ‘stranger’? I’m Kendo Rappa, the Demon of the West! I haven’t lost a fist-fight yet!” Rappa laughed maniacally, and Kirishima felt the heat of his temper flare hotter than the noon day sun. This bastard was causing trouble everywhere he went, it seemed. Before he could even tell himself he was going to think about the situation, Kirishima found himself standing between the two men.

“You’re Rappa? You’re the no-good bastard who attacked that poor rancher and his family?”

Rappa cocked his head to the side, “It might be me; I’ve met lots of ranchers and young families out here. You got a problem with me or something, Red?” Kirishima’s temper was now burning his insides.

“Hell yeah I do, let’s go right here, right now. I want a duel.” Kirishima stared the man straight in the eyes, and he could tell by how the corners lifted ever so slightly that Rappa was smiling widely.

“Guns aren’t as good as fighting with fists, but I’m getting pumped! Finally someone with some guts! Alright then Red, let’s go. Ten paces, loser dies.”

“Deal.”

Kirishima doesn’t remember much after that. From what Toyomitsu has told him, their guns had been inspected, a doctor was called, and up until the ten paces had been taken, nothing was amiss. Hell, after the countdown Kirishima had shot first, straight into Rappa’s side under his ribcage. But whoever had started calling Rappa a demon hadn’t been far off. Apparently the first shot wasn’t enough to stop him, and he fired back just as quick, shooting Kirishima in the shoulder. At that point, the doctor had shouted to stop him, but Rappa was so enthralled that he was finally getting a fight that he kept shooting. Another bullet hit Kirishima in the stomach before he could react, another hitting his chest and narrowly missing his lungs, and one more grazing the side of his face by his left eye as he fell to the ground. The marshal and local cops were rushing in to stop Rappa, and with Toyomitsu’s help they restrained him, luckily before he could reach for his second gun and simply unload into an already bleeding out Kirishima.

Rappa had been executed for trying to turn a duel into a murder. Kirishima hadn’t been awake to see it, clinging onto life as people placed bets on if the red-haired stranger would wake up or die.

Toyomitsu had kept him in a spare room while he healed, and when Kirishima awoke two weeks later, offered to let him stay while he recovered. In exchange, Kirishima would work with him for a while to pay off the debt of helping him out.

Four years later and the debt has been paid, but Kirishima can’t bring himself to leave. He feels the desert calling to him, but a looming sense of limited mortality he feels keeps him cowardly clinging to Sabasuna instead of off chasing an adventure.

While he doesn’t get to traverse the sandy dunes, Kirishima is by no means complacent in his day to day life. Toyomitsu, lovingly referred to as ‘Fat’ by the locals, often comments that his high spirits and friendly attitude towards the customers has been a saving grace. While his other employee Tamaki is reliable and hard-working, he tends to be on the shyer side, shuffling around customers and freezing up if addressed too forwardly. Tamaki lives with his husband Mirio, who has helped him come out of his shell a lot (Mirio also having a lot of energy and a pleasant nature), but it can still be difficult for him to socialize at times. When Kirishima isn’t helping Tamaki at the saloon’s parlor, he tends to the livestock and garden, offering work as a farmhand. At first Kirishima felt like he was only doing work that Fat didn’t want to do, but he soon realized that it was to help him build up muscle and regain some of what he had lost after his duel. Kirishima had been very weak after recovering but had definitely bulked up over the past two years. Standing impressively at 6’4”, with big arms, a well-defined 8 pack, and strong legs Kirishima was both powerful and attractive. However, the biggest perk of working at Fat’s had to be taking care of and training Riot, a massive and powerful bull who was the star of the weekend crowd. Many of the men who ventured into Sabasuna liked to boast about their travels around the Wild West, how many outlaws they had outsmarted, and how much gold they had found in mines around the desert.

It took only less than a minute on Riot for them to be humbled.

During the weekends Fat would encourage brave souls to try some bull-riding, to see if they were as tough as they claimed to be. Almost no one could stay on for longer than 5 seconds. Riot’s erratic and crazy bucking sent people flying off in the blink of an eye, throwing them into the air and crashing hard into the rocky ground. Even more unlucky were those who held on only to be caught under Riot’s legs, almost 2,000 pounds of pure muscle about to crush whatever was underneath him. In those moments, Kirishima and Tamaki would jump in to get the unlucky soul out of the ring before they got injured. There were a few outliers though, a powerful woman named Miruko had lasted a whole 10 seconds once and fell almost as gracefully as she had stayed on. Another cowboy who went by Hawks had stayed on for 9 seconds, only getting flung off because he had started to show off rather than staying focused. However, Kirishima himself had the longest ride time at 16 seconds, earning him the nickname of ‘Unbreakable’ because when Riot had finally thrown him off, he had crashed into the thick outer wooden wall of the arena, miraculously unscathed. While Fat had told Kirishima off for being reckless, he liked to use Kirishima’s time to goad smug cowboys into trying to stay on for longer than 16 seconds, only for the men to get their egos bruised.

Overall, his time at Sabasuna was well spent, and Kirishima genuinely enjoyed himself. However he still loved to hear stories of gunfights and mining towns and would picture himself roaming free out in the endless desert towards the horizon.

Perhaps that’s why he was more intrigued rather than put-off by the obnoxiously loud drifter who had just kicked open the door to the saloon (in the wrong direction), demanding he get something to drink and that it better be fucking quick.

When he had initially barged in, he scared Tamaki so badly that he dropped the glass he was polishing and dived to hide under the bar. Tamaki sent Kirishima a look that simply begged him to handle the man, who had already taken a seat at the far back of the saloon. Kirishima sighed and relented. When they weren’t busy Tamaki usually still handled the customers, but it would have been unmanly to have made him deal with a person who scared him that much.

“Hey partner, what can I get for you?” Kirishima smiled as politely as he could, praying that this guy had calmed down a bit. Kirishima hadn’t gotten an initial good look at the man, but now that he was up close, he prayed the drifter was at least a decent guy because damn he was hot. Pretty ruby red eyes and spiky (possibly fluffy?) ash-blonde hair gave the man an almost ethereal look in the dim lighting of the saloon. Kirishima couldn’t see much of the other’s figure due to the large brown poncho he was still wearing, but if the rest of him looked as nice as his face he definitely wanted to see more.

The nice face was gone and replaced by a scowl so fast Kirishima thought he possibly hallucinated the whole thing. “I want something fucking cool to drink and the spiciest thing you have, it should be so fucking hot it could kill a man” the stranger snapped. “And I’m not your fucking partner shitty hair”, he tacked on almost like an afterthought.

“Whatever you say Doll” Kirishima laughed and headed to the kitchen, only turning to leave after watching the man’s blush grow across his face and down his neck. Now he was yelling even louder than the first time, “I’m not your Doll either, you asshole!” as Kirishima retreated quickly to where Fat was cooking.

He was definitely going to keep calling that guy Doll, if only to see that cute blush once more.

Kirishima brought the drifter his drink, and then sat down across from him.

“I told Fat to make your curry as spicy as possible, but I can’t guarantee it would kill a guy” Kirishima chuckled.

“Guess it’s gonna be fucking weak then, don’t you eat things for the fucking flavor shitty hair?”

“Um, seasoning and so hot I won’t be able to taste again are two very different things in my book.” Kirishima grinned, “Also, the name’s Kirishima Eijirou, you gonna tell me your name?”

“Not gonna happen, weirdo.”

“Guess we’re gonna stick with Doll then, you know it suits you?” Kirishima grinned and mentally patted himself on the back when the guy’s face flared up again, getting to see the tips of his ears burning along with his face. The guy didn’t back down though, still flustered but looking Kirishima right in the eyes (which was manly as hell) as he almost snarled, “It’s Bakugou Katsuki, shitty hair. Now stop calling me Doll!”

“That’s a cute name too…Doll.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!” Bakugou stood up angrily but Fat appeared at the last second and set down the food. Kirishima could smell the spice from where he was sitting, the heat stinging his eyes and causing tears to form.

“You’re not really gonna eat tha—” Kirishima was cut off by Bakugou shoving an overflowing spoonful of curry into his mouth.

“Needs more spice, but it’s not the fucking worst.” Bakugou continued to eat at a crazy pace, leaving Kirishima to gawk at this anomaly of a person. How could someone be so pretty but so volatile?

Once Bakugou had finished and had practically licked his plate clean, he turned to Kirishima.

“You’re just gonna sit there and stare?”

“I mean, I’ve got a nice view Doll, but I’m honestly too shocked to see you’re alive after eating that curry, it looked like the devil made it himself,” Kirishima replied, not failing to notice how Bakugou again became somewhat flustered.

Maybe he should have been worried when Bakugou’s face twisted into a smirk and he leaned into Kirishima’s space, touching him on the chest.

“I’ve been all over this damned desert, to hell and back, Darling.” He whispered. “The devil’s food is so fucking spicy it sets your fucking soul on fire.” Kirishima could barely breathe, Bakugou’s arm slowly traveling from his chest to caress his right shoulder and travel down his arm, and the stare from those ruby eyes holding him in place. “I’m sure a man as hot as you can take a little heat, right?” Bakugou smirked as he removed his hand from Kirishima and leaned back, clearly deciding that if Kirishima was going to keep flirting, Bakugou didn’t want to let him win.

Kirishima had been flirted with numerous times, both men and women shamelessly trying to convince him to spend the night with them during their stay at Fat’s. Although he occasionally flirted back, Kirishima had always declined to having one-night stands, being a romantic at heart. He didn’t want to love someone only once, and then have the desert take them away in the morning, never to return. He didn’t want to lead Bakugou on, but he had never met someone who could get him so flustered, and their back and forth was refreshing. Since most people thought calling him “Red” was the pinnacle of smooth talking, Kirishima quickly became bored of many people who had tried to flirt with him.

“If you’ve been to hell and back, you’ve probably got a good story or two, eh Doll?” Kirishima asked. “What business could an angel like you could have possibly had there?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, then leaned in close once more. “I was once robbed by a gang of fucking bandits who were trying to get their damn hands all over my supplies. Those bitches ended up getting everything and I only escaped with my horse. I probably would have died if I hadn’t found an oasis town two days later, but even then, I had no money or food.” Bakugou sighed, “I was fucking lucky to meet this old lady, can’t remember the old bat’s name, but she helped me out and got me back on my feet. She made the spiciest curry I’ve ever eaten in my life, but I was so hungry and so damn tired that I could barely appreciate it. Those two days lost in the desert were hell on earth.” Bakugou’s grin turned feral, “I survived though, and when I ran into those losers again, I blew them to pieces!”

“That’s fucking wild!” Crimson and I used to ride for days without seeing any sort of civilization, and even with provisions it felt like I might die out there.” Kirishima was now leaning back and admiring the vivid energy of the man before him.

“Crimson? Who the fuck is that?”

“My horse! It’s a great name, right?”

“I’m beginning to think there’s a fucking theme with you and the color red, but I guess Crimson is a badass name. I doubt your horse’s name is as good as mine though. Not that you could fucking guess what it is.” Bakugou gave Kirishima a challenging glare, with the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Hm, is it Buttercup?”

“What the hell? No Buttercup sounds like a weak-ass horse! My horse’s name is Murder!”

“Who names a horse Murder?”

“I do Shitty Hair!” Kirishima tried not to visibly sigh at the return of the nickname, he had very much liked Darling.

The two went back and forth for a while, their banter the only sound in the saloon. The night remained still, with no more visitors showing up. Bakugou apparently got tired very quickly and had almost fallen asleep next to Kirishima at the table, prompting Kirishima to get him a room and quietly leave to go back to the parlor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more taken with a guy, Ei.” Fat laughed as soon as Kirishima had reached the final step from the upstairs.

“Oh my gosh Fat, did you even SEE him? He was gorgeous! I could have stared into his eyes all day!” Kirishima gushed.

“Not to be rude Ei, but you kind of did…” Tamaki blushed, “I felt like I was intruding the whole time you were talking, you looked like you were gonna make out at one point.”

“Hahaha he’s right though, it’s a shame he has to leave in the morning.” Fat sighed.

“Yeah, I know. Is it bad to hope I might get to see him again?” Kirishima asked.

“Having some hope is never a bad thing, Ei.”

By the time Kirishima awoke the next morning, Bakugou had already left, any trace of him having been erased by the desert winds and a new layer of dust settling in on the town of Sabasuna.

Having hope turned out not to be a waste for Kirishima. Maybe the desert isn’t as heartless as he originally thought.

Almost three months after Bakugou’s visit, Kirishima was still kept up some nights thinking of shining ruby eyes and how that pretty ash-blonde hair could have felt under his fingers. He was beginning to wonder if it had been a fever dream and had imagined the beautiful drifter, but he refused to let himself believe that. He wanted so badly to have another chance to talk to Bakugou, and hopefully Bakugou would want to see him again someday too. He hoped the desert would be forgiving just this once and let him see a familiar face again.

The noon-day sun was blazing hot, searing the sands, and drying up any moisture for miles. There had been a heat wave the past two weeks and Kirishima had to water the crops twice as much to make sure they didn’t shrivel up in the relentless sunlight. Riot was particularly restless today as well. Less people had been out travelling because of the weather, and it had been some time since Riot had gotten to let loose and throw a few people around. The bull was beginning to become more aggressive, not that he wasn’t allowed to roam around free in the pen they had for him, but Kirishima suspected that it simply wasn’t as much fun for Riot.
The sun was beginning it’s slow descent to the horizon as Kirishima finally finished up his work on the ranch, and he braced himself for another agonizingly slow shift where he polished the same thirty cups for hours while Tamaki cleaned tables over and over again. He walked into the saloon through the back door where the kitchen was, finding Fat racing around the kitchen and frantically trying to organize plates.

“Thank goodness you’re done Ei! You’d never have guessed with this heat, but a caravan came into town about twenty minutes ago, and we’re fully booked for the night!” Fat paused his rant to quickly catch a plate he almost lost to the floor. “We’re gonna be busy for the next while, so I hope you’re not too tired!”

Kirishima grinned, bashing his fists together. “Alright! It’s time we got some action around here! You know, Riot’s been restless, we should see if we can get some people riled up to ride!”

“Hahaha Hell yeah! Help Tamaki out in the front and once everyone’s served, go get Riot ready, this crowd should give us a good show!”

Kirishima quickly ducked out of the kitchen, spirits higher than they had been in weeks. As he turned the corner, he found Tamaki behind the bar quickly preparing drinks for the full parlor.

“Ei I’m so glad you’re here! I need you to get people’s orders! Fat is preparing appetizers but that won’t be enough for these people.” Tamaki was rambling, visibly trying to keep himself together.

“I’ve got it covered Tamaki! Leave it to me!” Tamaki sent him a fleeting smile before returning to his frantic pace of constantly pouring draft beers into glasses. Kirishima began taking people’s orders, with Fat occasionally bringing out appetizer dishes for the tables to tide them over. On one of these particular trips, Fat caught Kirishima’s eye and winked at him, before chuckling and heading back to the kitchen. Confused, Kirishima stared at his retreating back and before he could turn around, a pair of arms encircled his waist.

“Well well Darling, we meet again, I was hoping you would be here.” A deep, raspy voice whispered next to his ear. “I was almost afraid you had decided to leave since we last met.” Kirishima did his best to turn without breaking the grip of the hands around his body, and when he had successfully twisted himself around, he was face to face with a smirking Bakugou.

“I can’t believe you’re really here Doll,” Kirishima said breathlessly, finally getting to see the man he had been thinking of for months. He was so close he could see flecks of gold in Bakugou’s eyes and could feel his breath on his cheeks. Bakugou was about 6’0” but it made him look a little short standing next to Kirishima.

“Fucking believe it…” Bakugou was still whispering, like the two of them were sharing a secret. Then he frowned slightly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say goodbye last time, I had a damn agenda and couldn’t be late.”

“No worries, you’re here now, right?” Kirishima asked bashfully. Before Bakugou could get in a response, a loud shout was heard from a nearby table.

“Who are you and what have you done to Blasty?” a man that had striking yellow hair with a lightning bolt dyed into it was standing up, a look of shock and disbelief painted across his face.

“You know, I don’t think the hot guy has done anything wrong,” one of the young man’s companions, a woman with pink hair and golden eyes, squinted at the two of them as though they were a puzzle. “I’m more concerned with how Blasty here was able to find someone that hot and then have the balls to NOT tell us about it!”

“I think you’re all overreacting.” A lanky man with jet black hair and a toothy grin sighed at the other’s antics.

“I’m with Sero, y’all need to chill out,” the final tablemate, a girl with short hair strumming a banjo groused.

“Blasty?” Kirishima questioned.

“Don’t fucking ask.” Bakugou glowered.

Kirishima was curious to see what the relationship between the group and Bakugou was, but Fat came and grabbed him by the shoulders, causing Bakugou to unfortunately let go of him.

“Sorry to steal him so soon after you reunited, but I really need Ei’s help. So tell him what you want to order, and you can chat later.” Fat then turned and bolted back into the kitchen, once again leaving the parlor for Kirishima to handle.

By the time that everyone had gotten their food, it was well into the night, and Kirishima had been so busy he had almost forgotten to set up the arena for Riot. As he was finishing up, Fat came around the back and a sly grin crossed over his face.

“There’s a certain group of patrons who want to see the “hot redhead” from earlier.” Fat snickered into his hand. “You know, after you got thrown into the gate I know I told you off for being reckless, but if you wanna impress your man maybe you should show off tonight?” Fat began whispering conspiratorially.

“Aw shucks, I don’t know Fat. Showing off isn’t very manly…” Kirishima looked over to Riot and from the look he was getting, if Riot could talk, he’d be backing up Fat. Kirishima may or may not have ranted to the bull while taking care of him the first week or two after Bakugou had shown up. “But if the opportunity presents itself, maybe I’ll have a go.” He mused.

“That’s the spirit! Now, while you get acquainted with Bakugou’s friends, I’m going to start getting the betting pools going!”

If Kirishima had guessed what possible friends of Bakugou would have been like, it wouldn’t have been the group of rowdy, rambunctious folks he was meeting at the table. Bakugou kept insisting that they were in fact, not his friends, but it was clear that they were at least tolerated by him to some extent.

“Bakugou, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you had a secret hottie here, is that why you insisted we stop here for the night?” Mina, the pink haired woman teased, successfully making Bakugou angry.

“Listen here Pinky, I didn’t have shit to do with where we ended up, this was just a bonus.” He snarled.

“So you admit that he’s hot, interesting” Sero grinned, turning Bakugou’s attention to him.

“Anyone with eyes can see that, Soy Sauce!” This conversation was not good for Kirishima’s heart.

“Yo, Kirishima right? How’d you meet Blasty?” Kaminari, the guy with the lightning bolt asked quickly. Jiro, who up until that point had been simply watching the conversation appeared to also want to know what little backstory there was.

“Well, he honestly just dropped by one day and we talked. That’s pretty much it, right Doll?”

“DOLL?” the table screamed. All four of them looked like they had struck gold after mining for weeks and were eager to see what else the night would bring. Bakugou looked like he wanted to die on the spot.

“Yeah, that’s the fucking story isn’t it?” He grumbled.

“He didn’t even yell, he’s got it bad.” Kaminari whispered.

“Shut it, Dunce face!” Bakugou snapped.

“Ok, I have a question now. I know you told me not to ask, but why Blasty? I mean he’s loud but…?” Kirishima trailed off, clearly confused.

“You mean you don’t know? Bakugou here sells and makes dynamite!” Sero announced. “He’s very well known for not only making some of the most potent stuff, but he’s also got a knack for setting it off himself and causing trouble.”

“Really? Dynamite! That’s so manly!” Kirishima turned to look at Bakugou, who had begun slipping down his seat and looked as though he was about to kill his friends.

“Yeah, I’m the fucking best, so what?” Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“C’mon Blasty don’t be shy!” Mina cooed, relishing the chance of seeing the usually irate Bakugou momentarily subdued. “Brag a little!”

“Shut it, Pinky. I don’t need to brag when just my fucking existence is enough to send people running in fear.” Bakugou was starting to raise his voice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Fat who was currently riling up some other patrons. From over on the other side of the saloon, he called out “WHAT ABOUT BULLS?”

“Fucking WHAT?” Bakugou snapped back.

“You heard me, think you’re tough enough to handle our Riot? He’s the craziest bull this side of the desert. Average time on his back is 5 seconds. Think you can outlast all these guys?” Fat gestured to the group of men who were now standing up and heading out the back of the saloon and towards Riot’s pen.

Bakugou may have said no if his group hadn’t started pestering him into trying.

“DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” Sero, Mina, and Kaminari were chanting and banging their fists onto the table. However, it was Jiro who really hit the nail on the head.

“Nah, he’s too scared he’ll mess up in front of his boyfriend,” She smirked.

“ALRIGHT FINE, LET’S FUCKING DO THIS.”

The arena set up behind the bed and breakfast was around 50 feet in diameter, and the walls were around 6 feet high (Fat owned a lot of land, and the area was used not only for Riot, but to give the horses exercise as well). Riot had been set up in a small stall that Kirishima had helped Fat finish building to make the saddling process a lot easier. When they had first started getting people to ride Riot, they had to somehow find their way onto his back from the walls of the fence, and that had caused more issues than getting bucked off at times. Now however, it was much simpler to get people onto the bull’s back.
Riot usually took care of the rest by himself.

A crowd had gathered around the sides of the arena, hopping up on the walls to get a good vantage point to cheer their companions on. Bakugou’s friends in particular stayed as close to the bull as they could get without being mixed up in the line of people about to try their luck. There were about 10 men participating, and Fat had started a betting pool for how long each rider was going to be able to stay on the bull’s back.

Bakugou was last in line, scowling at the ground like it had personally offended him. When he finally lifted his gaze however, he looked straight ahead with a fierce determination in his eyes, and then turned and looked at Kirishima. He took a few long strides over until he was standing right in front of each other, their chests just barely touching.

“When I’m out there, you better not take your eyes off me, Darling. I’m gonna give you a show you won’t forget.” Kirishima could feel the blush beginning to take over his face but grinned back easily and leaned in just a little closer, his breath ghosting over Bakugou’s lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of looking anywhere else, Doll.” Kirishima desperately wanted to close the few centimeters between them, but Bakugou pulled away and walked back to where he had been previously standing. Fat called Kirishima and Tamaki over, explaining to the contestants that the two of them would jump in the arena to help them retreat once they had fallen off.

“The only rule is to stay on for as long as you can! Let’s get this show on the road!” The crowd cheered loudly as Fat finally declared it was time to get started.

The early contestants weren’t noteworthy, the first two having been bucked off within 3 seconds and the third guy bailing after seeing just how wild Riot could get once he got going. 2,000 pounds of pure muscle throwing you around and almost crushing you definitely worked on one’s nerves. Among the next few, one guy stayed on for 7 seconds, before falling and getting caught underneath Riot. Kirishima and Tamaki had worked fast to make sure the man wasn’t injured and it took them longer than usual to calm the bull down after that particular run. The guy before Bakugou lasted a whole 6 seconds, just barely clearing the average and managing to run out of the arena himself while Kirishima and Tamaki brought Riot back to his stall. Kirishima turned around only to have something shoved in his arms.

“Hold these for me?” Bakugou grinned as he shoved his poncho and shirt into Kirishima’s hands. He could only nod dumbly, too focused on Bakugou’s bare chest on display for him to see. He was ripped. It should be a sin to cover up abs and pecs that nice under all those layers. Kirishima quickly broke out of his stupor to hop up onto the side of the arena and prepare himself for Bakugou’s turn. Bull riding is an extremely physical sport, and Kirishima was going to be paying extra attention to how Bakugou held up.

“The time is set! Go whenever you’re ready!” Fat called from a spot somewhere in the distance. Bakugou leaped onto Riot’s back and the pen door was quickly opened by Tamaki. Riot violently began to buck, thrashing back and forth across the length of the arena. Bakugou was holding on strongly, his arms looking powerful as he kept a vice grip on the reins he was holding. Bakugou’s legs were gripping onto Riot’s back as much as they could, even still lifting him off the bull. Kirishima was entranced. Not only did Bakugou have an incredible technique (Kirishima was definitely going to interrogate him on if this was his first try), but his body was clearly in perfect condition as well. He could hear Bakugou’s friends around him screaming at the top of their lungs.

“LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO! HELL YEAH!”

“WOOOOO BLASTY! LOOKING GOOD!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S STILL HOLDING ON!”

Bakugou suddenly began to lose control, quickly being thrown off Riot’s back and into the ground. Kirishima was by his side in an instant while Tamaki went in to calm the bull down.

“10 SECONDS!” Fat yelled. “Bakugou’s tied with our current customer record holder!” Fat grinned. Kirishima and Bakugou were already outside the arena by that point, money quickly passing hands and Bakugou’s friends congratulating him.

“Hell yeah I’m the best! There’s no way any of the chumps here could surpass me!” He gloated.

“Well, you’ve made the customer record, but among the employees our lovely Eijirou has stayed on for 16 seconds,” Fat smiled easily, his plan already being set into motion. Bakugou’s eyes widened and he switched his gaze over to Kirishima.

“16 SECONDS? ON THAT THING?” Kaminari pushed his way into the conversation, eyes glistening with excitement. "GIVE US A DEMONSTRATION!” He begged.

“PLEASE!” Mina yelled, “I WANT TO SEE IT WITH MY OWN EYES!”

“That would be incredible, you gotta!” Sero chimed in, with Jiro nodding her head in agreement.

“I don’t know guys it’s been a while…” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck shyly but was abruptly grabbed by Bakugou, gripping the front of his shirt, and pulling him the few inches down to his eye level.

“If you beat your record, I’ll kiss you.”

Kaminari and Mina screeched louder than vultures guarding their prey. Sero and Fat were grinning at the scene, and Jiro looked like the development hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. Kirishima, despite his blush, was immediately filled with determination and a sharp, dangerous grin crossed his face.

“Well, I can’t say no to that, can I Doll?”

Kirishima stood by Riot’s pen, psyching himself up. As much of an incentive as Bakugou’s reward was, he still had to stay on the bull’s back for over 16 seconds. He had no idea if he could pull off what he had done almost a year ago, and last time he had been lucky to not have been hurt. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself after Fat had already begun setting up expectations in the others’ minds.

Tamaki had finished readying the gate and helped Kirishima into position before he would climb onto Riot.

“I can tell you’re nervous...” Tamaki began quietly, “But you’re one of the strongest people I know. You shine brighter than the sun even on a bad day. I know you can do it.”

“Tamaki…” Kirishima was almost in tears. He and Tamaki had always been close, with an unspoken understanding between the two, knowing how hard it could be to pick yourself up when you can’t see a comfortable way forward. His friend’s words helped ease his conscience, and the earlier determination returned with a vengeance. “Thanks, man. I needed that.”

“The time is set! LET’S GO!” Fat roared. Kirishima jumped on Riot’s back and Tamaki opened the gate. Adrenaline coursed through Kirishima’s veins and flooded his senses. He couldn’t focus on anything except keeping his hands on the reins, his legs gripping Riot’s back, and locking his eyes on Riot’s head. He took a deep breath after the jarring first initial seconds, and did his best to relax while holding on for dear life. Riot quickly began moving crazier, but Kirishima knew he could hold on for longer, even though the erratic shaking and rough movements were sending unpleasant vibrations all throughout his body. All he could think was just a few more seconds, just a few more seconds, and keep holding on. Seemingly out of nowhere, Riot bucked so viciously that Kirishima flipped up over the bull’s head and crashed a few feet away, rolling onto the ground. He quickly scrambled up to exit the arena while Tamaki calmed down Riot. Kirishima’s ears were pounding, the only sound he could hear was his own breathing echoing through his head as he crashed outside the arena’s gate. As his senses slowly started to return and his adrenaline rush began to slow, he could faintly make out Fat’s voice.

“18 SECONDS! EIJIROU LASTED A WHOLE 18 SECONDS ON RIOT’S BACK!” The people were cheering so loudly Kirishima could feel the vibrations on his back as he raised his fists in triumph on the ground. Tamaki was the first to greet him, grabbing his hands and pulling him up.

“Congrats, Ei.” He grinned sheepishly.

“YOU’RE A MANIAC! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DID IT!” Kaminari was suddenly right next to Kirishima, shaking his arms wildly. “It was crazy, you were so in the zone, could you hear me cheering?”

“Honestly, I was too focused on the bull! But thanks all the same!” Kirishima grinned, bumping fists with Kaminari.

“That was hot man, where’d you learn to ride like that?” Mina smirked.

“Woah there tiger, I think he’s taken.” Jiro snickered, “But seriously, that was nuts Kirishima.”

“For real, you could do this professionally.” Sero said patting Kirishima on the back, and Kirishima could finally feel himself relaxing.

“Damn Ei, you really are something else, aren’t you kid?” Fat cheered as he rushed over. “Alright, show’s over! Let’s get y’all rooms for the night!”

The crowd began to disperse, and as the excitement from the event slowly began to die down, Kirishima realized he had almost forgotten about Bakugou’s promise. He scanned the tired group as they began to enter back into the saloon, unable to locate the spiky head of ash-blonde hair anywhere.

“Looking for something, Darling?” a hand came to rest on Kirishima’s lower back, slowly wrapping around to hold his side. Kirishima smiled as he turned to face Bakugou, the two alone under the desert constellations.

“Yeah, I seem to recall earning a kiss. Know anything about that?”

“I might fucking know a thing or two.” Bakugou had now moved so the arm holding his back was bringing Kirishima closer, his free hand reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of Kirishima’s neck. Kirishima circled his arms around Bakugou’s slim waist, desperately trying to get him closer. The two stood lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, simply admiring the person before them.

“Listen, I’ve been travelling in this damned heat wave for two weeks. I’ve fucking seen plants catch fire from nothing, but what you just did has to be the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s only because you weren’t able to watch yourself out there, Doll.” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou rolled his eyes, before slowly starting to close the distance between the two. Kirishima closed his eyes and felt a faint pressure as Bakugou’s lips softly met the corner of his mouth.

“BOO YOU CALL THAT A KISS? I THOUGHT YOU WERE A MAN Bakugou!” Kaminari screeched from an upstairs window in the saloon. The moment was shattered faster than it started, and Bakugou was suddenly out of Kirishima’s arms and racing into the building at a speed that could rival lightning.

“YOU ABSOLUTE PIECE OF SHIT! I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU ASSHOLE!” Kirishima could only laugh and head inside, the now cool desert air helping to calm his rapidly beating heart.

When Kirishima awoke the next morning, the caravan had already departed. But before he could sulk, Tamaki quietly slipped him a note with the simple words:

Wait for me, Darling.

Rain wasn’t a common occurrence in the desert. When it did rain, at least where Sabasuna was concerned, there would be one week a year where there was sure to be a downpour a day. It was reliable in the sense that you could always expect that it would happen, but unreliable in what the rain would bring. Fat had plenty of stories about his crops suddenly dying from too much water or having to house groups of shifty characters because they didn’t want to travel in unexpected downpours.

Kirishima had always loved the desert rain and had grown to love it even more when he had been travelling. There was something about the way the cool droplets perfectly contradicted what seemed to be the essence of the land that had him entranced while he roamed with Crimson. A surprise rainstorm was never a bad thing, refreshing and rejuvenating to a person locked in a prison of heat and never-ending sand. The rainclouds on the horizon signaled the upcoming week of water, sending Kirishima and Tamaki both into the garden to prepare for the oncoming storms. The past few years they had developed a drainage system to prevent potential over-watering of the plants, and it had been so successful that Fat would take a day or two off from running the parlor to ensure the men had enough time to set everything up.

“Do you think we’ll be busy once the rain hits?” Tamaki inquired.

“Maybe. But we’ve had a lot of visitors the past few weeks that we might not see anyone if the storms are bad.” Kirishima had seen cases where they were packed for a week, or simply had no one show up at all. Fat’s business was lucrative enough that it didn’t affect him financially (owning the amount of land he had with no rent was certainly a plus), but it certainly was boring.

“Is it bad to hope no-one shows up? It would be nice to have the week off.” Tamaki sighed.

“I like having people here, but then again, I don’t have anyone to go home to.” Kirishima chuckled. “Yours and Mirio’s anniversary is this week, right?” Tamaki’s face quickly became a deep red, and Kirishima held back a laugh.

“Yeah, I have that day off, but it would be nice to spend some extra time with him.”

“You two are adorable, you know that? He’s completely smitten with you even after being married for years!” Kirishima couldn’t believe Tamaki’s face could become redder.

“Mirio really is the light of my life…” Tamaki whispered, “Like the sun in the sky, he always seems to be there for me.” Tamaki spared Kirishima a glance.

“Aww, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard something so sweet and sappy!” Kirishima laughed.

“You are aware of the fact that you’ve been calling someone who you’ve only met twice Doll, right Ei?” Tamaki chuckled, “and that he responds by calling you Darling?”

“Man, you’re hitting me where it hurts!” Kirishima dramatically fell to the ground, pretending he had been struck in the side. Tamaki was of course right, but it still made Kirishima’s heart heavy. It had been two months since the desert heat had brought Bakugou back to him, but at least this time around Kirishima felt that his hope wasn’t in vain. Especially after getting a taste of something more with the blonde. If he focused hard enough, he could almost recall how it felt to hold and be held, and how it felt to have that single touch of soft lips against his. If the first meeting had left Kirishima wistfully imagining, the second had him full on yearning for something else, wishing for the next meeting to be just as exciting as the last.

A few days later, and the sound of rain hitting the roof of the Saloon had become a beautiful cacophony, sometimes deafeningly loud and other times a simple pitter patter. The saloon was completely barren, except for Kirishima and of course, Fat. Tamaki had been granted the week off the day prior when no one had come into town and the rains had been especially bad. Kirishima found himself dozing off at one of the tables, resting his head on his crossed arms.

“Gonna take an afternoon nap, Ei?” Fat asked as he slowly swept the surrounding area. “You could always head upstairs, ya know. Even if anyone comes through, I can handle it on my own.”

“Nah, ‘m good here.” Kirishima slurred sleepily. “Wanna keep you company.”

Kirishima drifted off before he could fully process Fat’s response.

When Kirishima finally regained consciousness, he could feel gentle fingers playing with the strands of his hair that were splayed out on the table next to him. The soft caresses were doing their best to lull him back to sleep, but he forced himself to focus on the voices softly echoing through the parlor.

“Damn, that’s a tough spot. How’d you fucking get out of that?”

“With luck and a fast horse. Trust me, outrunning a gang of bandits during a sandstorm took skill I didn’t have, but thankfully we lost them before those bastards could hunt me down.”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you got away with that! You should have died!”

“Tell me about it!”

Kirishima’s heart was beating fast, and he hoped Bakugou couldn’t tell. Right as he was about to move his stiff arms, Bakugou’s voice started up once more.

“You sure he’ll be happy to see that I’m here?” It was the most unsure tone Kirishima had ever heard from Bakugou since he’d met him, and his heart hurt for him.

“Please, he’ll be ecstatic! He mopes like a sad puppy when you leave.” Fat chuckled. Kirishima was struggling not to defend his honor.

“Shit, really? That’s fucking adorable.” Bakugou was still playing with his hair, and Kirishima could feel the gentle twists as Bakugou slowly crafted a braid. “I wasn’t sure that he really meant the flirting the first time, and then I kissed him and left without saying goodbye the next, like the fucking asshole I am.” Bakugou sighed. Kirishima was again fighting every muscle in his body to not move, and to keep his breathing steady.

“Ei gets flirted with a lot, but I’ve never seen him as smitten with someone as he’s been with you. I think you’re actually really good for him. You’ve brought out a side of him that I didn’t think I would ever get to see.” Fat mused.

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

“Well, when we first met—” Kirishima decided not to let Fat finish that thought and did his best to pretend that he was just now waking up. Softly groaning, he turned his head and slowly blinked his eyes open (and based on the two men’s reactions, he was absolutely nailing this). He then looked up and locked eyes with Bakugou, grinning cheekily.

“Am I still dreaming, or are you actually here, Doll?”

“Do you really dream about me, Darling?” Bakugou laughed and returned the question with a smile softer than what Kirishima was accustomed to seeing from him.

“Even when I’m not sleeping, I dream of you.”

Kirishima was ecstatic that Bakugou was not only back but that he was going to be staying an extra day to hopefully miss the worst of the rains. Kirishima found himself thanking the desert for bringing the rain, and all the blessings that came with it. The rest of the afternoon and evening were shared between Kirishima, Bakugou, and Fat sharing stories of past adventures.

“Fat, I can’t believe I didn’t know you used to be a bounty hunter, that’s so manly!” Kirishima said, eyes wide with admiration.

“I can’t believe you fucking tackled a sharpshooter and didn’t die. What kind of maniac are you?” Bakugou bumped Kirishima’s shoulder amiably, both men relishing the contact.

“Bakugou, I’m amazed you haven’t blown yourself up yet! Do you even know many mines you’ve destroyed over the course of your travels?” Fat laughed. “I’m curious to hear how you even found yourself selling dynamite.”

“Fucking Deku, this loser I know, ended up getting an invite from the Toshinori himself to join him for the takedown of a rival. The asshole outlaw had just gotten a partner and he wanted backup. I had Deku beat in every fucking way – I can draw quicker, aim better, and ride faster than he ever could. But I guess he saw something in him that was better than me, and I didn’t know what it could possibly be that Deku had that I didn’t.” Bakugou glared down at the table while he spoke, eyes burning into the wood, “So I decided that I would do something I knew for certain he couldn’t do, which was be smart enough to make explosives. Soon, I got so good that people wanted to buy the shit, and I’ve been traveling and stopping criminals while I make a profit.”

“Hold on, you knew THE Toshinori, as in All Might? The greatest cowboy the West has ever seen?” Fat was looking at Bakugou in awe. Kirishima could understand, even he had heard of the legend of All Might. But the desert can be vast, and truth can morph into rumors if you’re not close enough to the origin.

“Yeah, he really was the fucking best, too.” Bakugou’s gaze had lost some of its edge, softening his features ever so slightly. Then suddenly, the glare was back. “I often have the misfortune of running into Deku and his posse of losers while I’m out, but Toshinori retired a few years ago. They would maybe be tolerable if he were still with them, but now they’re just annoying bastards who get in my way.”

“Well, they’re not here now, so you don’t have to worry about it!” Kirishima grinned. Bakugou sighed and simply nodded his head in agreement, even if he still seemed annoyed by the thought of this Deku character and his friends. Fat then offered the prospect of dinner, to which both men quickly agreed, glad for the topic change.

“Have you finally made your curry fucking spicier?” Bakugou asked.

“I’m pretty sure no one else could stomach it, but I’ll really try to bring the heat this time!” Fat replied, heading for the kitchen.

“DO YOUR WORST!” Bakugou jeered. Fat’s laughter echoed throughout the parlor as he finally stepped into the kitchen, leaving the two men alone for the first time in months. Kirishima could feel how his pulse quickened, and how his heart was now racing with the prospect of more time with Bakugou, who was currently trying to not-so obviously shift his chair into a position that got him closer to Kirishima. He was failing since the seats were difficult to move around on the wooden floor, and realizing he had been caught, Bakugou pouted and quit moving the seat.

“Not a fucking word.”

Kirishima struggled to keep a grin off his face as he pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key, and then before Bakugou could register what was happening, Kirishima reached over and pulled the blonde into his lap. Bakugou was half-seated on Kirishima, face burning red and an incoherent sound slipping from his lips. Kirishima wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s (still very slim) waist and whispered into his ear,

“Don’t worry Doll, I wanted to be closer to you too.” Bakugou was now trying to hide his blush with his hands but Kirishima could see that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were scarlet.

“You can’t just fucking say things like that.” Bakugou groaned.

“Why not?”

“Because I already like you too fucking much!” If Kirishima’s heart wasn’t racing before, it was now, emboldening the red head ever so slightly. Kirishima touched the tip of his nose to the back of Bakugou’s neck, then moved just a little so his lips landed on the junction between Bakugou’s neck and shoulder. He could now feel the heat of Bakugou’s blush, how his body stiffened and then relaxed, and could tell that the other wanted the contact just as much as Kirishima wanted to give it.

“Ready to ruin your—” Fat barged in through the kitchen door into the parlor, almost dropping the plate of food when he caught sight of the two men. Before he could retreat, Kirishima had already moved his hands and Bakugou was moving off his lap, both of their faces burning brighter than the sun.

“Um—”

“Just bring me the fucking food already.” Bakugou snarled.

“Right!” Fat set the food down, mouthing ‘sorry Ei’ as he then turned on his heel and made a speedy exit. Kirishima was almost about to combust from the downfall of the previous moment before Fat made a surprising return and asked him to get Bakugou a room prepared. Thankful for the escape, Kirishima quickly excused himself, receiving only a nod of acknowledgement as Bakugou shoved food into his mouth. He met Fat around the corner where he was shoved a key.

“Ei I’m really sorry for interrupting…but what even was that!?” Kirishima groaned and put his face in his hands, unable to say anything. In all honesty, he had just wanted to be closer, to finally be able to hold him again (but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud). Fat chuckled at the man’s apparent struggle.

“You need to get your shit together. Make a move that will make him always come back to you. We all know too well that the desert separates more people than brings them together, and even though you’ve already beaten the odds twice now, there isn’t always a guarantee.”

“Thanks, Fat.” Kirishima smiled, grateful for his friend. “I don’t know what I’ll do just yet, but I know that I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted before.”
That night, Kirishima went to sleep with determination to somehow keep the man the desert had brought to him, reassured that he would see Bakugou again in the morning.

Or so he thought.

He probably should have seen this coming, but when Kirishima woke up, the first thing Fat did was snicker and hand him a note.

Your boss told me you had to work so find me when you’re done Darling.

Kirishima pouted at Fat, who was full on cackling at Kirishima’s obvious disappointment.

“You need to read the back too, Ei.”

Kirishima eagerly flipped the note over, ignoring Fat’s laughter in the background.

-P.S. I’m excited to finally have you all to myself for once.

The back door leading outside slammed shut as Kirishima hurried off to take care of the garden and livestock.

Kirishima decided that his previous thanks to Fat the night before needed to be revoked. The rains were especially bad that day, and Kirishima had to make a choice between speed or proficiency while taking care of his daily duties. He decided on proficiency only after slipping two or three times in a rush to check the water drainage system, and nearly landing in a bale of hay after tripping over a rake in the barn. While he had wanted to finish in a record amount of time, he ended up trudging into the saloon dripping wet and muddy at around six in the evening, an hour later than he usually finished. Fat looked up from the bar and smiled.

“You’re finally done! That took a while. You should rinse off and go get changed.”

“This fucking sucks.” Kirishima sighed dejectedly. “Not only did I waste the whole extra day I could’ve spent with Bakugou, but I’ve made him wait somewhere and didn’t show up.”

“You’re only making him wait longer by complaining.”

“You’re trying to make me miserable on purpose. I thought you were on my side!” Fat simply laughed and tapped his wrist.

“Clock’s ticking, Ei.”

Kirishima resigned himself to his fate and decided if he was already going to be late, he might as well make sure he looked decent. He showered and as he was getting dressed, stopped to look at his reflection in the mirror. The scar on the side of his face stretching out from his left eye to his temple somehow felt more prominent, but it could have been his imagination. Bakugou had yet to ask about it, as so many people typically did when they first met Kirishima. They always expected some sort of heroic victory, so Kirishima would deflect and say he couldn’t remember how he got it. Most people didn’t buy it.

As he finally finished up and had finally put on a decent shirt (Tamaki apparently had told Mirio that Kirishima’s fashion sense was abysmal, so Mirio had bought Kirishima some plain shirts that he said were “not going to make my husband rant”) a knock sounded at his door. He hoped Fat was going to apologize, and when he opened the door, he was surprised to find Bakugou staring at him instead. Kirishima blushed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry I made you wait; I was just going to come find you. I hope you didn’t get soaked in the rain or anything.” Bakugou just rolled his eyes, before pushing his way into Kirishima’s room and closing the door behind him. Bakugou then turned the lock, before turning back around and reaching his arms up around Kirishima’s neck.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t even leave the building. Your boss told me that he could cover for you, but I thought watching you scramble around trying to get done faster would be fun.” Bakugou whispered, sighing into the small space left between the two. “I was fucking right, of course.”

“I can’t believe you did this to me, Doll.” Kirishima said, feeling slightly betrayed but nonetheless relieved that he hadn’t actually made Bakugou wait.

“I can’t say that I’m sorry about it, Darling.” Bakugou’s breath was now right against Kirishima’s lips, and he could no longer resist the aching pull he felt to kiss him. Kirishima moved forward the last centimeter and finally felt what it was like to have Bakugou’s lips against his. One arm was again around Bakugou’s waist and the other was finally getting to feel just how soft the other’s ash-blonde hair was. Bakugou tilted his head ever so slightly to let their lips slide together in a more comfortable way, and when he licked at Bakugou’s lips he met no resistance, allowing Kirishima to finally get a taste of him. It was like flying and drowning in the same breath, a mixture of fantasy and reality that can both free and destroy a person. Kirishima could only lose himself in Bakugou, unable to process anything beyond how it finally felt to have what he so desperately dreamed of having.

He didn’t know how long they had kissed for, or how they had moved to lying on the bed, but the passionate display of affection had slowed to match the pace of the quiet drizzle hitting the roof, soft and meaningful but still full of emotion. Once their lips finally parted, they simply lay holding each other close, their legs tangled, and their arms wrapped firmly around the other. It was dark outside, the room lit by the wet luminescence of the moonlight flowing through the raindrops on the window.

“I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want you to leave,” Kirishima whispered.

“I don’t want to leave you either.” Bakugou sighed, his breath tickling Kirishima’s neck.

“Then don’t.”

“I wish it were that fucking simple. But I have people who really need what I make, and count on me to catch asshole outlaws.” Bakugou started to trace circles onto Kirishima’s back, moving his hands in an almost reverent way. “I wish you could come with me.”

Kirishima stiffened, and Bakugou could feel it.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to. I mean, you’ve got everything you could want here. A place to live, a respectable job, a family. I’d be the selfish one for asking you to leave.”

“It’s not that I couldn’t go, or that I wouldn’t go. I wasn’t lying when I said I dream of being with you.”

“So…you want to come with me?”

“More than anything…I want to be by your side.” Kirishima kissed the top of Bakugou’s head, doing his best not to let any tears fall. “But I would only hold you back.”

“What the fuck? What makes you think that?” Bakugou had shifted, and was now caressing Kirishima’s face, his fingers brushing away the tears that finally started to slip.

“It’s just– I’m not anything special, and to handle the challenges the desert throws at you, you need to hold your ground. I learned the hard way that I couldn’t.” Bakugou was still drying the stray tears that fell and leaned in close to press a tentative kiss to Kirishima’s cheek.

“Your boss yesterday said that you act differently around me...does that have to do with this?”

“Possibly. I Kinda hoped it wouldn’t come up though.” Kirishima chuckled wetly.

“So it is related. What the fuck happened?”

So Kirishima explained, Bakugou listening quietly as he told him about meeting the rancher, and how he stupidly challenged a devil to a duel. How he had nearly died and how he had learned that no one, not even Fat, had thought he would make it through to see the light of day once more. How he was stupid for thinking he could make a difference, and how even if he had died, Sabasuna and the desert itself wouldn’t have missed his existence.

“Damn.” Bakugou said softly, tracing the scar near Kirishima’s eye, then slipping his hands under Kirishima’s shirt to feel the scars of the closed bullet wounds. “I don’t know what you need to hear, or how to make it better, but…fuck, Kirishima if I had never met you I would have missed a part of me for the rest of my life.”

“Bakugou—”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou’s eyes were now locked onto his, ruby meeting red. “I have never wanted something as much as I want you. I won’t ask you to leave with me tomorrow, or the next time I come back, or the next. I hope you think about it though, because as long as I live, I will always find my way back to you. But it would be easier if we were side by side.”

“You really mean it, Doll?”

“You weren’t the only one dreaming of something they thought they couldn’t have, Darling.”

Kirishima vaguely remembers Bakugou leaving in the early morning, kissing him softly on the lips and whispering,

“Until next time.”

When he met Fat in the parlor, he was handed a note that read:

I miss you already Darling.

The history of the desert is told mainly through word of mouth, getting distorted and confused as it passes from one generation to the next. Sometimes those who were the heroes become villains, and those who were the villains become heroes. But as a rule of thumb no matter where you travel – history repeats itself.

That’s why when a wagon raced into town and two men rushed in to see if there was an empty room, frantically explaining that they had a doctor but nowhere to operate, the obvious conclusion was that a duel had taken place. The men explained that both parties were injured, and they required two rooms. Tamaki and Kirishima went to unlock doors and prepare beds while Fat rushed outside to help bring the wounded in. Kirishima prayed that whoever they were, they would be okay.

Once he saw the familiar head of ash-blonde hair he had come to adore, he started praying harder.

Before he could say his name, before he could get a chance to see how badly he was injured, and before he could even ask if Bakugou was ok, a man around Kirishima’s same height with glasses and rigid posture pushed him out of the room.

“Apologies, but I have to remove the bullet. I hope you understand that you can’t stay inside to watch the procedure.” The door was shut in Kirishima’s face, and he didn’t even know he was crying until a new stranger with half-red and half-white hair tapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re crying,” He stated, handing Kirishima a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” Kirishima quickly tried to dry his tears, Tamaki nervously approaching and grabbing Kirishima’s arm.

“Let’s go downstairs, Ei.” Kirishima could only nod and comply.

“May I join you?” The stranger inquired.

“Umm…okay.” Tamaki whispered, already leading Kirishima down to the parlor.

When they finally sat down Fat joined them, curious about the situation.

“Hey stranger, I’m Fat, who might you be?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“If it’s not too much trouble Todoroki, would you mind telling us what happened?”

“If you insist. It really doesn’t concern you all, though.” Kirishima was about to speak up, his eyes still not fully dry. However, Fat stopped him, placing a comforting arm on his shoulder.

“Humor us.”

What the group gathered from Todoroki’s vague explanation was that Bakugou and Todoroki’s travelling companion, Midoriya Izuku, did not get along. Whenever they would run into each other, some sort of argument would start, and Bakugou was (apparently) always the instigator. He would curse and yell, and even though they would occasionally team up, the two had been on the brink of a disastrous encounter for a while now. They had encountered Bakugou as they were going after the same outlaws, some assholes who had been robbing poor families. They had worked together fine and had been about to part ways when Midoriya asked for Bakugou to join their team and travel with them. Bakugou had unsurprisingly, whole-heartedly refused, and began accusing Midoriya of belittling his abilities to work well on his own. Todoroki said he couldn’t remember how the argument had escalated from that point on, but it soon became less about abilities and more about their past. Then, as both Midoriya and Bakugou became more heated and refused to back down, Todoroki himself had suggested the duel.

“I was surprised that Bakugou refused to duel, it had always been a threat of his.” Todoroki mused. “Midoriya was surprised as well but took my advice and challenged Bakugou. One thing about Bakugou is that if he sees a challenge, he rises to it, and maybe I admire that quality a little.”

“So what happened next?” Fat asked.

“Bakugou accepted but said he would only duel close to this town, for whatever reason. He didn’t tell us why, but I guess it was a good thing because you were all here to help us fix the aftermath.”

“They’ll be fine, right?” Kirishima finally found his voice, although it was shaky.

“Most likely, so long as nothing gets infected. They both ended up passing out from the pain, however, so I hope that they wake up soon.”

Two people began walking down the stairs, one being the tall man who had pushed Kirishima out of the room, and the other being a young woman with cute cheeks and fluffy brown hair.

“They’re asleep now, but we’ve removed the bullets!” The young woman announced.

“They’ll most likely be in a lot of pain when they awake, so we should be prepared to provide care and assistance!” The man was chopping the air as he informed Todoroki of the situation.

“Good.” Todoroki sighed quietly, then turned to Fat. “These are my other companions, Uraraka and Iida.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Fat smiled, and Kirishima and Tamaki nodded their heads in greeting. Both Iida and Uraraka formally introduced themselves, and Fat began to act more like a host. Kirishima politely excused himself upstairs, with Tamaki following closely behind.

“You alright, Ei?” He whispered. Kirishima took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. They said he’s gonna be alright, so he’ll be alright.”

“You should be there for him when he wakes up. He asked to be close to here right? So that means he probably wanted to be with you if something happened.” Tamaki softly patted Kirishima on the back, pulling out the key to Bakugou’s Room. “I’ll make sure to let Fat know that you’re with him. But I’ve had too much excitement for today, I’m gonna go home.”

“Thanks, Tamaki. You’re amazing, you know that right?” Tamaki was now hiding his face in his hands, turning to quickly rush back down the stairs.

“Bye, Ei.”

Kirishima had made sure to lock the door behind him, after grabbing some beer to give Bakugou to hopefully help sedate the pain when he woke up. Kirishima brought a chair over to the bedside and gently took Bakugou’s hand. The bullet had hit him in the left shoulder, as it was heavily bandaged and wrapped up to stop the bleeding. It would most likely be a while before he woke up, but Kirishima would make sure he would be there for him so Bakugou would know he wasn’t alone. However, the nerves and excitement from the past few hours slowly took their toll, and Kirishima fell asleep, his hand still grasping Bakugou’s.

Kirishima woke up to a vice grip on his hand and a painful string of curses.

“Ugh what the fuck, my arm hurts like a bitch, I’m gonna kill that damn Deku...” Bakugou trailed off into a groan. Kirishima slipped his hand away and turned to grab the alcohol, opening the bottle, and shoving it toward Bakugou’s uninjured arm.

“Here, drink this, it’ll help you feel less pain.” Kirishima instructed, Bakugou already sitting up and beginning to chug the drink as if his life depended on it.

“Thanks,” Bakugou choked out as he finally needed to take a breath of air, then slumped back down, still holding onto the beer and taking a sip every so often. The two sat in a comfortable silence until Bakugou could no longer keep quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding ashamed. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Deal with what? You lying here alive and breathing? I’d rather be dealing with this than with you being dead, Bakugou.”

“No I mean me! Me and my dumb fights with Deku!” Bakugou cringed at his words, taking another swig of the beer. Kirishima could only sigh fondly.

“So it’s a side of you I haven’t seen yet,” Kirishima kissed Bakugou on the forehead, “But if I’m going to keep loving you, I want to love all of you. Including the parts of you that might need some work.”

“You really think you could love all of me?” Bakugou asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes that rivaled the uncertainty in his voice.

“Without a doubt.” Kirishima grinned.

The moment was interrupted by a loud groan of pain from the neighboring room. Kirishima would have gotten up to check on this Deku guy if he hadn’t heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. Bakugou rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

“I swear he’s broken almost every bone in his body, and he can’t handle a gunshot wound. What a fucking loser.”

“Bakugou how can you say that when you’re also over here groaning in pain?” Kirishima laughed.

“I wasn’t nearly as loud as him, I’m handling it like a fucking man!” Bakugou snapped.

“Haha, whatever you say, Doll.”

“You think you’re so above all this, huh Darling.” Bakugou chuckled as he moved to scoot a little closer to Kirishima, but not before the handle on their door began to shake.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!” Bakugou yelled.

“Bakugou, how did you get up to lock the door? I need to check and make sure your injury is no longer bleeding and make sure you can alleviate your pain!” Iida yelled from the other side.

“I’M FINE ASSHOLE.”

“Bakugou, he’s just trying to help!” Uraraka called out. “I got a key from the owner so we’re coming in!”

“WHAT PART OF NO DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!”

“Are you always like this with them?” Kirishima whispered as the door began to unlock.

“Yeah, why? They’re a bunch of dumbasses.” Bakugou grumbled as the door swung open and both Uraraka and Iida stepped in, surprised to see Kirishima.

“Oh, it’s you! You’re one of the employees here right? I thought you had gone to bed!” Uraraka smiled happily.

“I’m not sure why you’re acquainting yourself with Bakugou during his time of injury, but if you would please allow us to check him over, that would be much appreciated.”

“Sure man, whatever you need.” Kirishima got up to leave, glancing at Bakugou one last time, which wasn’t good for his heart as the blonde man was pouting.
“This fucking sucks.”

Kirishima could hear Bakugou grudgingly accept help as he slipped away, passing Todoroki embracing a man with green hair, presumably Deku. They were too lost in the other to notice Kirishima’s stare, clearly glad that they could simply be together. Kirishima understood the feeling as he finally went to his own room to slowly fall asleep.

A few days later as Bakugou and Deku were still recovering but finally no longer bedridden, the morning found the two a lot livelier than the previous days. Kirishima had only gotten to see Bakugou at night after his shifts, and by then Bakugou would be tired and nearly asleep. Kirishima would stay until Bakugou was finally sleeping, and then leave him a note for the morning so he felt like he was at least trying to see the other. While Bakugou insisted that he understood, Kirishima still felt bad.

It was barely the crack of dawn, and both Bakugou and Deku were sitting at a table eating breakfast. Bakugou was glaring at Deku, but they seemed almost comfortable in a way. Kirishima was getting ready to go out when Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka all came downstairs.

“Good morning! Ah, Izuku you’re up! How’re you feeling?” Uraraka practically bounced over to the table.

“Fine, it’s still a bit painful but it could be worse!” Deku smiled and Todoroki quickly took the seat directly next to him, placing his arm around Deku’s shoulders and kissing his temple.

“Glad to see you’re okay. Are you alright as well, Bakugou?” Kirishima heard Todoroki ask as he quietly slipped out the side door. Once outside, Kirishima breathed in the morning air, still somewhat cool, and set off to get his work done. As he was heading toward the stable, he was quickly interrupted by a hand slipping around his waist, another one slowly following the first.

“You were just going to abandon me with Deku and his lame friends, Darling?” Bakugou teased, resting his head on Kirishima’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know about me yet, Doll.” Kirishima laughed. He, Fat, and Tamaki hadn’t yet told the others that they knew Bakugou. Kirishima figured that they knew something was up, but probably not exactly what it was.

“Bullshit. Of course I want them to know, you’re fucking amazing.” Bakugou was grinning, his hug becoming a little tighter before he let Kirishima go. “I know you’re busy, but I miss you and—”

“If you’re about to ask if you can help, absolutely not. You’re still recovering.” Kirishima was now facing a pouting Bakugou. “But if you want to keep me company, I would love it.”

“Sure I won’t be too distracting, Darling?”

“You’re already distracting me, Doll.” Kirishima closed the distance between them quickly, pressing a firm kiss to Bakugou’s lips. A loud crash was heard from the direction of the saloon.

“KA-KACCHAN. KACCHAN KISSING! WOW, UM –.”

“Bakugou! IT IS RUDE OF YOU TO DISTRACT MR. KIRISHIMA FROM HIS WORK.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW THERE HAD TO BE SOMETHING BETWEEN YOU TWO!”

“I don’t think I understand. What are we surprised about?”

Kirishima laughed as Bakugou seethed, clearly upset at being interrupted.

“GET LOST! LEAVE US ALONE!”

“I thought you wanted them to know!” Kirishima chuckled.

“I haven’t had you to myself in fucking weeks. Let me be selfish.” Bakugou snapped and then connected his and Kirishima’s lips once again.

Deku, Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida left by the end of the week. Bakugou had left one day after the others, leaving Kirishima a note that read:

See you soon, Darling.

The desert can make you forget things. The unchanging hills and constant sand can make a person forget they’ve traveled. The towns all look the same with their poorly built buildings, all brown and practically identical. The people all fit into one category or another, and if you’ve met one cowboy or outlaw, you’ve met them all.

Bakugou had never been good at remembering trivial things to begin with, anyways. There was no point in memorizing every poor bastard’s name, or even remembering which towns he’d been to and caused a scene in, or even which outlaws had decided they were going to try and fight him. In the end, he just needed to make sure he was the best, and he’d be fine.

Until he had met Kirishima, he had forgotten how lonely it could get pushing people away.

Bakugou couldn’t remember why he had decided Kirishima was worth his time flirting with the first time, but to say he wasn’t interested in the incredibly hot guy who was clearly interested in him would have been a lie. The guy was gorgeous, with an Adonis like body, a shirt that was a little too tight, striking red hair, and a cool scar by his bright red eyes (but what had really killed him was the man’s smile, so bright that it rivalled the sun itself). He’d been flattered, had fun, and decided that maybe he would mark Sabasuna on his map just in case he ever found himself close to the town again.

Bakugou couldn’t remember how he had ended up joining the caravan that was near Sabasuna, (even though he unfortunately did remember the rowdy group of travelers he had met before), but it’s possible he did recommend a certain bed and breakfast as a place to escape the desert heat. There was a pretty redhead he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how hard he tried. He remembers seeing Kirishima exit the kitchen and begin talking to Tamaki, and he decided it would be fun to flirt again and he hoped that Kirishima hadn’t forgotten him.

The look of wonder on Kirishima’s face when he saw Bakugou again is etched into his mind.

While their banter that night still left Bakugou with some sort of doubt, seeing the hottest man alive successfully stay on a crazy bull for 18 seconds just so he could get a kiss was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him. Bakugou knew catching feelings for a person he had met twice was stupid, but he couldn’t help hoping that Kirishima might actually feel the same way. He thought of his clumsy kiss all night and left a note in the morning hoping that Kirishima would want him to visit again just as much as he wanted to come back.

Bakugou doesn’t remember when he realized that he was close enough to Sabasuna to escape the rain, but he does remember how he made Murder run faster than ever before to get there. When he saw Kirishima sleeping on the table, he could feel his heartbeat quicken as the man who he had been thinking of for weeks was finally in front of him. He’d probably fallen asleep thinking about what it would be like to touch Kirishima again, to hold him and not have to let go, every night for months. Even just getting to run his fingers through soft red hair and listening to the quiet snores coming from Kirishima were enough to make him want more. How he became so far gone in so little time would remain a mystery.

Maybe it was those dumb pet names they had for each other, which Bakugou would never admit he adored.

Watching Kirishima from his room in the saloon the day after and seeing him frantically try to hurry through his work in the pouring rain was endearing, almost making Bakugou feel bad for teasing him. But the idea of spending a whole day with Kirishima and then leaving made Bakugou’s stomach turn in a much more vicious way. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make himself go.

After their make out session, he had been wrong about his earlier assumption. Apparently, all he needed to make him stay was wandering hands, gorgeous red eyes, and a pair of honest lips. Kirishima was not only true in actions but in words as well, and Bakugou could tell that Kirishima wanted him as much as he had come to want Kirishima. But he couldn’t stay, and he could tell Kirishima wasn’t ready to leave.

Getting up to leave that morning was one of the hardest things Bakugou had ever forced himself to do, knowing he was only going to make the person he loved wait for him to someday wander back so they could maybe be together for a little longer the next time.

Bakugou doesn’t remember what he said that made Deku angry enough for Todoroki to suggest a duel, but he remembers the dread he felt when he realized he wasn’t going to get out of it. Kirishima’s duel story hadn’t frightened him, but he knew that if he somehow died, it was possible Sabasuna would never hear of it. So he moved the duel to just outside Sabasuna’s outskirts, with the town the obvious place to go once they were finished.

Bakugou unfortunately remembers waking up in agonizing pain, with a voice he loved telling him how to get some relief. The week after was fuzzy, but the promise of being loved despite his flaws played through his mind like a broken record.

He remembers a searing kiss and the feeling of being loved the night before he left, getting to be closer than he ever had been before to the man he was completely gone for, and having a plan to return when he left in the morning.

That was two days ago. Bakugou had meant it when he said he would be back soon.

As he walked into the saloon, whoever the owner was and the shy man who also worked there seemed surprised but happy to see him.

“Ei is out back tending to the garden,” the owner smiled. “We’re gonna miss him around here.”

“We’ll come back and give you a fucking visit.”

“If you’re as loud as you were a few nights ago, maybe just a normal visit will suffice.”

Bakugou didn’t know if he liked the asshole’s smug attitude, but he wasn’t going to start a scene since he was here to rob him of an employee.

He quietly exited the side door and made his way to the garden, Kirishima’s broad, muscular back facing him. Damn he was fucking lucky.

“Darling.” Kirishima’s head snapped around so fast Bakugou was worried he got whiplash.

“Hi, Doll.” Kirishima breathed, and he was quickly in Bakugou’s space and kissing him like he was afraid if he didn’t, he would disappear. After a few seconds, Bakugou softly broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of Kirishima’s neck.

“I missed you.” Bakugou’s voice cracked, the traitorous thing. “I want you to come with me.”

“But what if I hold you back?” he could feel Kirishima’s voice rumble as they stood close together. A voice somehow simultaneously tough and sweet.

“If you think you’re going to hold me back because you’re not special or some shit like that, I want to change that stupid fucking thought.” Bakugou now had his eyes locked on the sunset red hue of Kirishima’s, the color that he saw every time he looked at the setting sun. “If nothing else, you’re special to me, and I hope that would be fucking enough. But if it’s not, I will work on making you see how special you are. For the rest of my fucking life.”

Kirishima’s beautiful eyes were filled with tears, but Bakugou wasn’t worried because that smile that shines brighter than the sun at high noon was back, showing off sharp and pearly teeth.

“I do have a promise to keep.” Kirishima whispered softly, “I’m going to show you I can love all of you right? If we’re talking about the rest of our lives, that’s how I would like to spend mine.”

It was almost surreal to ride out of Sabasuna with Kirishima and Crimson. The goodbyes had been long but were worth it if Bakugou was finally able to have Kirishima by his side.

“So, should I call you partner? It’s kind of an official thing now.” Kirishima laughed as they headed off into the desert, somehow more inviting than Bakugou ever remembers it being.

“Nah, I think I prefer Doll.” He smirked.

“Good, because I love calling you that…and I really like being called Darling, just so you know.”

“Really, I couldn’t fucking tell!” Bakugou chuckled and turned to face Kirishima, only to find him already staring at him.

“I feel like I got so lucky. Out of all the people in the desert for you to fall in love with, I’m glad it was me. I’m never going to let you go again.”

“It was never luck, Darling. For me it was only you.”

-The End-