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Kirishima had known since first year; he was one of the first to know, after their teachers. Midoriya had known but that had been a given; he’d known Bakugou for how many years? But Kirishima was the first person Bakugou had willingly told, not been told by someone else. Had pushed Kirishima off him during a makeout session, crossed his arms firmly, leveled him a scowl before declaring, “I’m fucking deaf.”
Kirishima had blinked. “Okay.”
He’d been met with dumbfounded silence for awhile. “...okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Kirishima repeated with a shrug. “You’re still Blasty McSplodes.” That had gotten him a sharp kick to the side. “But anything you want me to do to like...help or whatever? Anything I should know?”
Bakugou had shaken his head, sliding off the bed and taking out a hearing aid with a wince. Ah, it must have been irritating him, hence the subject being brought up at all.
Kirishima had waited until Bakugou had turned around before saying, “Should I know sign?”
Bakugou had flushed, hands stuffed into his sweatpant pockets. “You don’t have to.”
No, yeah, he really did, and Kirishima had thrown himself into learning and by the end of second year, he’d been pretty damn proficient. By third year he could keep up with Bakugou and his parents, Present Mic too if he and Bakugou were having a private conversation. He’d even had a few cheeky signs with Midoriya in class, who’d always flush pink and bite back a giggle as he signed back.
But what Kirishima had seen as the biggest moment, the one that had awed him slightly, was when in their first year out of school and in an apartment they could only afford because Bakugou’s parents chipped in, was when Bakugou had come home, taken both hearing aids out, and just reclined against him. It really hadn’t been that big of a thing and yet it had been, had been because Bakugou was apparently comfortable enough and trusted him enough that he would willingly give up one of his senses. Especially since Kirishima knew that Bakugou had even slept with his hearing aids in ever since the kidnapping incident in first year.
From then it had happened over and over, Kirishima cherishing those days more than others. He loved nothing more than to draw Bakugou back against his chest or into his lap and murmur sweet nothings into his ear. Bakugou may not have been able to hear the words, but he felt the brush of lips, the rumble of the chest under him. And even though he didn’t know what was being said, he’d still flush, as if he knew Kirishima was getting all his sappiness out of his system when Bakugou couldn’t hear him to yell at him.
Sometimes, if Bakugou did want to talk, he’d just drag Kirishima’s hands down into his lap and sign inside them. That had cause Kirishima to stumble a couple of times at first but he’d soon gotten the hang of it. He found out much later from Midoriya, probably accidentally, that it had been a game he and Kacchan had played as children; having to close your eyes and guess what the other was “saying”. It was incredibly cute.
Luckily for Kirishima, tonight was no different. Both he and Bakugou had been up early for hero work that day and Bakugou had had to stay on even later, looking thoroughly exhausted by the time he trudged in the door. His boots were tossed one way, shirt another, and then his hearing aids were dumped on the table before he collapsed on top of Kirishima, burrowing into his neck.
Kirishima grunted a little before managing to worm a hand free, lifting Bakugou’s chin with a finger. “Long day?” he asked, Bakugou taking a moment before nodding; apparently lip reading was “fucking hard when you’re reading a fucking shark’s lips!”.
“Some heroes are worse than villains!” he signed furiously, forehead scrunching up. “They never shut up about this and that!”
Kirishima made a sympathetic sound, Bakugou calmed by the vibration against his chest and settling back in. Kirishima ran a hand through his hair, tutting at the odd bits of dust and concrete shards that came away with it. He supposed their plan to do the groceries that night would have to wait until tomorrow; he didn’t mind, it wasn’t like they needed anything urgently anyway. Kirishima hefted Bakugou a little closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Tomorrow huh, pretty boy?” he murmured, lips featherlight against his boyfriend’s temple. “We gotta...uh, what was it we needed? I know we need eggs,” Kirishima rattled off, figuring it was safe to speak out loud because,
- Bakugou couldn’t hear him and,
- Bakugou found his “voice” comforting.
“Then did you say something about watermelon? It is in season I suppose...Then there’s those peppers you like, the rice, more pork, some-”
“Are you reciting the fucking grocery list?!”
Kirishima leapt a good foot in the air at the shout, eyes snapping back into focus only to find Bakugou sitting up and glaring down at him, hands fisted on his hips. “Huh?!”
And then Bakugou’s words hit him and Kirishima was waving his hands frantically, signing as fast as he could. “Sorry Katsuki, I just...I zoned and…” He then blinked. “Hang on...You knew what I was saying.” Bakugou suddenly went very, very still. “Katsuki...have you been learning to read my lip movements?”
“What? No!” he snapped, hands movements fast, sharp. His cheeks, however, were turning a lovely shade of scarlett.
“Ah uh, don’t lie to me Katsuki,” Kirishima sang, foregoing the sign language and just pulling him down close. “That’s adorable babe.”
“Shut up!” Bakugou shouted, ignoring Kirishima’s sniggers and stomping down to the bedroom, waving the sign for shower over his shoulder.
“No way Blasty!” Kirishima called, knowing Bakugou could feel the movements in the floorboards, sprinting forward only to get tackled onto their bed. He was putting up a fight but Kirishima knew it was all for show, grinning when he had Bakugou pinned under him. He gently bumped their noses together. “I love you Katsuki.”
Bakugou huffed, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you,” he signed back.
“No, I love you,” Kirishima corrected, putting extra emphasis on the “you”, all but jabbing Bakugou in the chest.
Bakugou swallowed thickly before nodding, hands tumbling together. “Yeah, love you.”
***