Katsuki Bakugo loved you more than explosions, which was saying something. But there was one thing that tested even his devotion: your shopping marathons. Four hours. Four fucking hours of waiting while you disappeared into fitting rooms with armloads of clothes he couldn't tell apart.

The first time, he'd tried standing outside the changing room like some kind of fashion bodyguard. That lasted exactly twenty minutes before he wanted to blow something up. The second time, he'd attempted following you around the store, offering unhelpful commentary like "they all look the same" and "just pick one already." That ended with you threatening to leave him at the mall.

Now he had a system. The moment you headed for the fitting rooms, he made a beeline for his salvation: a corner with couches and a sign that read "Boyfriend Pick-Up Station." Some genius mall designer had understood the struggle. Today, three other guys were already slumped there, looking like they'd lost the will to live. Katsuki recognized the tall one with the messy hair—they'd bonded over their mutual suffering two weeks ago.

"Back again?" Messy Hair asked, not looking up from his phone.

Katsuki grunted, dropping onto the couch. "Round four this month."

"Amateur," said a guy with glasses. "My girl dragged me to six stores yesterday. Six. For one dress."

They sat in comfortable misery, occasionally showing each other memes or complaining about their girlfriends' shopping habits. Despite himself, Katsuki found the camaraderie oddly comforting. These guys got it. They understood the particular brand of torture that was loving someone who treated shopping like an Olympic sport.

His phone buzzed. A text from you: What do you think of the blue dress? He squinted at the photo. It looked exactly like the last three dresses you had sent him pictures of, but he'd learned not to say that.

Looks good he typed back, the same response he'd given to every outfit for the past two years.

Katsuki's phone buzzed again. Another dress photo. Then another. He stopped looking after the fifth one, just sending back thumbs-up emojis.

An hour passed. Then another. The guys around him rotated out as their girlfriends finished shopping, replaced by fresh victims. Katsuki remained, checking his phone every few minutes, wondering if you had somehow gotten lost in the maze of clothes racks.

Finally, he felt a familiar hand ruffle his hair. You stood beside him, shopping bags in hand and a satisfied smile on your face.

"Come on, let's go," you said, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd been trapped in boyfriend purgatory for three hours. He stood up, nodding goodbye to the remaining survivors. "See you next week," Messy Hair said grimly.

As they walked toward the mall exit, you chattered about the deals you had found, the sales associate who'd been helpful, the dress you almost bought but decided against. Katsuki listened with half an ear, mostly just relieved to be moving again.