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Katsuki loved laundry day.More specifically, Katsuki loved when Eijirou did laundry.Katsuki, did laundry every Sunday, unless he was working, in which case he did it on his next day off.Eijirou did laundry once a month.Katsuki Bakugo, who worked out a lot, who sweat a lot, and whose sweat exploded, made sure not to let his laundry pile get backed up. He washed his clothes as frequently as possible with industrial strength detergent designed to nullify the explosive properties in his quirk and not blow up the laundry machine when the impeller started agitating the load.Eijirou, who worked out a lot, who sweat a normal amount, and whose sweat did not explode, did not have the same commitment to laundry.Eijirou, owned a frankly absurd amount of graphic tees and muscle shirts, exercise shorts, and crocs – goddamn crocs – and did not have any problems rewearing an outfit that wasn’t super dirty, two, or even three, times in a row.Eijirou, nearly once a week forgot he was wearing a shirt and activated his quirk only to tear through it and leave nothing but scraps to throw away.Eijirou, frequently didn’t even bother wearing a shirt when lounging around the house.Eijirou, whose most limited clothing item was his sweatshirts, did not have to worry about washing those because Katsuki would steal them and wash them for him.Eijirou Kirishima, only did laundry when he was completely out of underwear, and did said laundry wearing absolutely NOTHING but a pair of basketball shorts. Basketball shorts that were about two sizes too tight on his gigantic frame because he had whittled his clothing options down so far none of the well-fitting pairs were still clean.Eijirou fucking Kirishima, would literally be the death of Katsuki one day because of how fucking hot he was.Because if all of that wasn’t enough, Eijirou also cleaned the apartment while he did laundry.And he wouldn’t let Katsuki help.So Katsuki, got a front row seat, to his boyfriend, in the most scandalous and tantalizing outfit he owned, sweat dripping down his bare, golden chest, being ridiculously, disgustingly, so unbelievably attractively, domestic as fuck.Katsuki was going to die.With each passing laundry day, Katsuki became more and more convinced that this would be the thing that killed him. Not a villain, or a collapsing building, or any number of the other risks that came with being a hero.Nope.Katsuki would be killed by his stupid heart going out because of how damn sexy his boyfriend was.And honestly? Katsuki was fine with that.At least the last thing he saw would be Eijirou.Eijirou Kirishima. The sturdy hero Red Riot.His gentle and generous giant, who regularly, and unironically, helped people cross the street, or carry their groceries, or do any number of other menial tasks just because the person looked like they could use some help.The man that always held the door open for everyone, even if he got stuck there for three minutes and ended up late to an important meeting.The angel on Earth, that carried a single mother’s crying baby for 45 minutes last week, trying to get it to sleep, when he and Katsuki encounter the poor woman while grocery shopping. Eijirou just let the brat pull his lose hair and get snot all over his shirt and didn’t even bat an eye. The baby did eventually quiet down, and when Ei handed the kid back to its mother the woman had been on the verge of tears with gratitude.Katsuki, for his part, had acted annoyed, but has not been able to stop imagining how Eijirou would act if they had a child of their own. It was a fucking inconvenient fantasy because they were only twenty, had only just starting their hero careers, and had so many other things to do before they even though about adopting a baby. Not the least of which being opening their own hero agency, reaching numbers one and two in the hero rankings, and getting married.And there was no doubt in Katsuki’s mind that he would marry this man.He was it.Eijirou was everything.Katsuki might be the best, but Eijirou was better.Eijirou was the sun that the world revolved around. The warmth that Katsuki craved bone deep. The fire that fueled his explosions and the blanket that surrounded him when the nightmares came in the night.There was no one else.No one else that would ever compare to Eijirou.Katsuki smiled to himself as he watched Eijirou switch his load of laundry. If he admired the view of Eijirou bent over and how that stretched his too small shorts over his sculpted ass then he was his fucking boyfriend, and if he was going to walk around their apartment like that and cause Katsuki’s heart to go into cardiac arrest then Katsuki had ever right to look.“Hey Red,” Katsuki called as Eijirou closed the dryer and stood.“Yeah?” Eijirou asked pressing start on the machine.“Come here.”Eijirou turned to him eyebrows furrowed in adorable confusion. But he did it; walked over to where Katsuki sat pretending to read on the couch.He stopped right between his legs. Katsuki’s face level with his rock hard abs, and ass at just the right height for Katsuki to wrap his arms casually around his waist and squeeze.“I said come here,” Katsuki says instead, placing one hand on Eijirou’s waist and reaching up with the other to grab Eijirou’s face. He couldn’t quite reach. Katsuki might be a respectable 183 centimeters, but Eijirou is 201 centimeters and towers over him even when he wasn’t sitting. Katsuki would never admit to liking just how much bigger Eijirou was than him.But even with the additional height difference Eijirou knew what to do. His face broke out into a blinding, sharp toothed, smile as he leaned down to meet Katsuki halfway.That smile didn’t waver as they kissed and Bakugo got a matching smile of his own.