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The house hasn’t been the same since Katsuki passed away nearly 8 months ago. That familiar warmth he brought through those doors quickly dissipated after he left. Now it’s just him and a house full of memories. Good, bad, ugly, and beautiful. Pictures line almost every inch of their walls of their adventures throughout the years. From high school to becoming pro-heroes to their marriage and beyond.
And while those memories bring Shouto a sense of comfort in these times, it also makes the hole in his chest even bigger knowing there won’t be any more pictures to hang with him.
The doorbell rings and Shouto grabs his cane, slowly making his way to the door. Who the hell is here? It’s not like he has any family or friends in the area. Shouto opens the door and stares down at a vase of sunflowers, absolutely stunned. He gently picks them up and takes them to the kitchen, taking notice of the envelope embedded in the flowers and opens it.
Happy fucking birthday you old fart.
Shouto snorts as he reads the card over and over again. Of course Katsuki would’ve pre-paid for this. He always made sure Shouto’s birthdays were special. That’s the side of Katsuki no one else was allowed to see–the caring and meaningful side. Only Shouto was ever allowed to see that.
He sets the card down on the counter and places the flowers into a vase, taking one last smell of the sunflowers before walking to the bookshelf in their living room. He scans over the weathered spines, eventually stacking a few scrapbooks in his hand before sitting back down in his recliner and opening them.
Immediately, a smile forms on his face when he sees their younger selves pasted onto the pages. Katsuki always looked so grumpy in high school… Well, all the time. It was his signature look and one of the many things Shouto loves about him. However, in this particular picture, it shows the two of them in front of a soba shop. The first birthday Katsuki and him spent together when they were 16.
***
“Where are we going?”
“Holy shit, IcyHot, stop asking. I told you it was a damn surprise.” Katsuki grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Shouto shrugged it off, following behind him like a lost dog. Katsuki never did surprises. Not for anyone ever. So what makes Shouto so special? Is it because they’re officially dating so Katsuki feels like he has to surprise his boyfriend? Shouto doesn’t know the answer to this conundrum. But he does know it feels nice to be treated every once and awhile.
They finally stop in front of a run-down restaurant, Katsuki looking mighty proud of himself. Shouto looks it up and down, his expression never changing. Why are they in front of a dirty, run-down shack?
“Um… where are we?”
Katsuki’s expression falters for a moment before turning to annoyance. “Can you not read? It’s a fucking soba shop. I heard from a friend that it’s the best fucking place in town.”
Shouto blinks, “it looks… like rats inhabit it. Plus, you hate soba with a passion.”
“Yeah, I do. But it’s your birthday, so I can suck it up for one damn meal.”
Wait. How did Katsuki know it was his birthday? He didn’t tell him that–or anyone for that matter. But Katsuki doesn’t give him a chance to process any of that as he drags him inside, forcing him into a seat.
And holy shit was the best damn soba Shouto ever had in his entire life. Better than Fuyumi and way better than Lawson's soba. The two of them ate tray after tray of zaru soba, laughing, and talking about the most menial things until they decided to leave before missing curfew.
“Hey, old man, take our photo.” Katsuki demands at the shopkeeper, holding out his phone. The man grumbles a string of cuss words at him, but still obligues.
They stand in front of the shop, hand-in-hand, as the shopkeeper takes their photo. Shouto can’t stop smiling the entire way back to the dorms.
***
A tear forms in Shouto’s eye when he recalls that memory, once again smiling at the photo. That was the first birthday he and Katsuki shared, but also the first birthday Shouto celebrated period. His father would never allow a party, cake, or even tell him the simple phrase. But Katsuki, someone he only was dating for maybe 3 months at that time, went completely out of his way for Shouto.
That shop has long since closed, but sometimes they would walk down that same road and reminisce on that day. Shouto would give absolutely anything to have just one more date there with him. But all he has now are these memories stashed away on a bookshelf.
He flips the page, scanning over various other memories. Shouto’s eyes fall on a stupid photo from his 25th birthday.
***
“I’m home.” Shouto sighs, setting his bag on the couch. After working a double shift, he’s deadbeat tired. Like, so tired he almost fell asleep on the car ride home.
“Rough patrol?” Shouto nods, “that’s shitty they put you on the schedule on your birthday.”
Katsuki pulls him into a hug, rubbing the back of his neck gently and laying his chin on Shouto’s head. Over the years Katsuki learned to be more physically affectionate. Maybe it was just his walls slowly breaking down. No matter the reason, his touch is the only thing that brings Shouto comfort these days. Especially in their profession. You never know when their touch will be your last, after all.
Shouto sighs, melting into him. “It is what it is. It’s just a day–I’ll have many more with you.”
“Yeah, but this is your first fucking birthday as my husband, dumbass. I was gonna do something special or some shit.”
“Well,” Shouto starts slowly, “if you insist, you could cook for me? Tako sausage and fluffy pancakes?”
“What? Are you fucking 8 years old?” Katsuki rolls his eyes, but starts grabbing pans from the cabinets anyways.
After being banned from the kitchen many, many years ago, Shouto’s sole job while Katsuki cooks is to play music, look pretty, and generally stay away from any sharp objects. Not that he minds, anyways. He’ll gladly watch from the kitchen counter, taste testing when Katsuki isn’t looking.
Plus, watching Katsuki in his element really brings a warmth to Shouto’s soul that he can’t get anywhere else. It’s like looking at a cotton candy sunset. Soft, beautiful and breathtaking. He never wants to forget these moments. Even when they’re old and wrinkly.
The two of them make small talk over their dinner, occasionally arguing over the stupidest things. Well, mainly over Shouto’s newest absurd conspiracy theories.
“Thank you, Katsuki. They’re really good.” Shouto shoves another sausage in his mouth, watching as Katsuki gets up from the table and sneaks into their bedroom. He shortly comes back out with a small kitten snuggled into his arms. “What’s this?”
He places the small black cat into Shouto’s arms. “What does it look like? It’s a fucking present.”
He’s only been begging Katsuki to get a cat for three years now. The moment they bought their house he was already planning out their cat’s room, name, and the various collars they’d put on the animal. But each time Shouto brought it up, Katsuki immediately shot it down. Eventually, he just accepted that he’d never be able to get one. Never in a million years did he think Katsuki would willingly go out and buy him one.
Shouto looks down at the kitten then back up to his husband. “Wait… you’re serious? Like, you’re not joking?”
“Nah. I’m serious, IcyHot. Just know I ain’t scooping fucking cat shit.”
“Thank you, Katsuki. This is amazing.” Shouto sniffles, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes. Shit, is he crying over the cat? Or the fact that it was Katsuki that got it for him? Either way, it’s kind of embarrassing.
He kneels in front of Shouto, sweeping the hair out of his eyes. “Hey don’t fucking cry over a damn cat.” Katsuki rubs away a stray tear from Shouto’s cheek. “I fucking love you, Shouto.”
“I love you too.” Shouto smiles.
***
Shouto grabs his cane and forces himself to his feet still holding his scrapbook, slowly making his way to the kitchen. The same kitchen he was forbidden from stepping even a hair in for so many years. He stops in front of the fridge, running his fingers over the handwritten recipes Katsuki posted there nearly 6 years ago.
He takes a shaky breath as he opens their fridge, taking out a single plate of food and a small cake his neighbor made for him. Shouto places the food down on their table, slowly starting to set down their plates and silverware. Even after Katsuki passed away, Shouto still sets him a spot at their table. He just can’t bring himself to not see another plate laying in his spot. Katsuki’s spot.
“I miss you.” Shouto whispers, staring at the framed photo of Katsuki propped up across from him. He’s never missed a dinner with Katsuki, and he won’t start now.
***
“SURPRISE!” Shouto stops dead in his tracks in the doorway, eyes wide. Where did all these people come from? Why are they here? And why is there confetti raining down on him?
“Uh…” Shouto pauses, “thanks?”
All their old friends from UA are all squished behind their kitchen counter, decorated in various kinds of birthday attire. Even Midoriya is here, which was the biggest surprise considering he left for hero work in America.
“Idiot, you’re supposed to look surprised.” Katsuki pushes through the crowd of people, scowling at his husband.
Midoriya shoves Katsuki away and pulls Shouto into a tight hug, nearly squeezing the life from his body. “Todoroki, I can’t believe you’re 38! You still look so young!”
“That’s not the compliment you think it is, nerd.” Katsuki snickers, turning back to Shouto. “ but I did find a gray hair on you last week.”
There he goes again. Katsuki brings that up almost three times a day now. But Shouto vehemently denies it was a gray hair. After all, half his damn head is white hair, so he claims that’s what Katsuki saw. He refuses to believe he’s actually getting old.
The two of them quietly excuse themselves from the group, wanting just a few minutes alone. They end up just outside their bedroom, Shouto pressed against the wall. Even though they’re not teens anymore, the two of them still act like it when it comes to one another.
“At least I don’t complain about my knees every 20 minutes like you.” Shouto smirks, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s neck.
“Fuck off! It’s not my fault they’re like that.” Katsuki snips, running his hands down Shouto’s chest and places a kiss on his lips.
Oh yeah. Shouto will never get tired of Katsuki’s lips or kisses. Each time their lips meet, Shouto’s transported back to their 16 year old selves that would make out in the bathroom between classes.
Katsuki smirks and pulls Shouto close to him, placing another soft kiss on his lips. “Happy fucking birthday.”
“We have cheesecake! Come get it you two!” Uraraka yells at the top of her lungs.
Shouto smiles up at his husband, pulling away from their kiss. “We should go before they start jumping to conclusions.”
He can already hear their friends in the living room questioning their whereabouts. Especially Mina–she’s always been the first to start gossip where there isn’t any. “Fine. I’ll save what I was going to do for later.”
“Can your knees handle all that?” Shouto grins and sprints down the hall, evading Katsuki trying to tackle him the entire way to the kitchen.
***
Shouto pushes away the empty plate of food, starting to work away at the cake. It’s good, but Katsuki’s cake tastes better. Everything Katsuki did made everything in Shouto’s life better.
Midoriya [21:36]: Happy birthday, Todoroki!
Me [21:37]: Thank you, Midoriya. It means a lot.
He’s been Shouto’s rock since Katsuki died. The two of them are one of the few left from their class, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Midoriya always made sure Shouto was okay, and even would come visit him on the days Shouto felt especially lonely.
A tear falls down Shouto’s cheek. He’d give anything–fucking anything– to have one more life with Katsuki. He’d give up his quirk, the money, the house…
He just wants Katsuki back.
***
“It’s too fucking hot here.” He complains, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
The two of them retired just a few months ago, so they decided to knock two birds out with one stone and celebrate Shouto’s birthday and their retirement all at once. Of course Shouto wanted to just stay home, but Katsuki wanted to travel somewhere. But in Katsuki fashion, he’s done nothing but complain about his choice the entire trip.
“You’re the one that suggested Okinawa, Katsuki.” Shouto smiles, kneeling down to dig through the sand.
“Don’t remind me.” He watches Shouto digging, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for the baby crabs that live in the sand.” He mumbles, continuing to dig until he spots the smallest crab he’s ever seen.
Shouto scoops it up and holds it in Katsuki’s face with a triumphant grin. While Katsuki might regret coming here, Shouto’s glad they didn’t just stay holed up in their house. They never got to really travel like this in the decades they’ve been together. You’re never too old to experience another first in life.
“Sometimes I can’t believe you’re 53 now. You still act like a damn child.”
He scowls, placing the crab into the palm of his hand as they continue to walk down the beach. “And you still cuss like you’re back in UA.”
“Isn’t it a little late to try and fucking change me?” Katsuki jokes.
Shouto shakes his head, cradling the small crab in his hands. “I would never change you. I love you just as you are.”
***
Shouto settles into their bed, snuggling deep under the covers. He turns in their bed, looking at the side that Katsuki used to take up. His imprint is still there. Shouto reaches over and lays his hand on it, taking in a shaky breath.
“I think we should watch that movie you like so much.” Shouto picks up the TV remote and turns on Katsuki’s favorite movie, grabbing the blanket Katsuki would always wrap himself in and holds it close.
***
Katsuki collapses onto the couch with a sigh. “Another birthday for the books, IcyHot.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. 66 years is 66 years too many.” Shouto groans, turning another page in his magazine.
It’s still crazy to think he’s even lived this long. And even crazier to think he spent over half his life with Katsuki–the man of his dreams. The other half of his soul. To think he grew up thinking no one would ever truly love him makes him laugh these days.
Katsuki groans, rolling his eyes. “Don’t say shit like that. These past 50 years were fucking amazing. Stop being a grumpy old man.”
It takes everything in Shouto not to burst out laughing right then. “Me? The grumpy one? Katsuki, have you forgotten who you are? Should I take you to the doctor?”
“Screw you, pretty boy, I’m not fucking grumpy.”
“Pretty boy? Don’t you see all these wrinkles and gray hair?”
Shouto reaches up and twirls a lock of his ash gray hair, a frown growing on his face. Katsuki looks… Well, he looks amazing even to this day. He’s still the same ethereal, out of this world man he fell in love with almost 5 decades ago. But when Shouto looks in the mirror, he doesn’t see what Katsuki sees. Yet when Shouto even dares to mention that, Katsuki is quick with his retorts.
“And? I didn’t fucking marry you ‘cause of your lack of wrinkles.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, scooting closer to him on the couch. “I married you ‘cause you’re you. You’re infuriating, kinda dumb sometimes yet so smart, and when you smile at me, that’s when I’m the happiest.”
“Wow, that’s the longest you’ve gone without saying fuck in the 50 years I’ve known you.” Shouto deadpans.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yeah, I don’t.”
***
Midoriya [22:15]: How was your birthday? I saw you had cake! Looks yummy :)
Me [22:20]: I miss him, Izuku
Midoriya [22:21]: I know I do too, Shouto.
Me [22:22]: Will it ever get easier?
Midoriya [22:23]: Honestly? No. It doesn’t. But it gets less painful.
Shouto sets his phone down. He doesn’t want it to get easier, but he doesn’t want the pain to continue. Every moment without him is hell on Earth. He wants it to stop. He wants to see Katsuki again. To be with him.
He holds onto the blanket a bit tighter, taking one last look around the room and closes his eyes.
***
Shouto sets his cane against their nightstand, slipping under the covers of their bed. “How are you feeling today?”
“Tired. I hate being stuck in this damn bed.”
“It’s ‘cause you’re old, Katsuki. “ He shoots Shouto a glare. “Kidding. You’re still very much young… at heart.”
It pains Shouto to see the love of his life bedridden. The once full of life, rambunctious man now can barely get out of bed most days. Ever since he got sick, Katsuki’s only been getting worse by the day. And he knows that, but neither of them choose to acknowledge that devastating fact.
He tries his best to make Katsuki comfortable–Shouto even hired the nicest home nurse he could find to make sure of that. He’d give up anything and everything to see Katsuki back on his feet again. To be able to dance in their living room, cook together, shit, anything.
“I wish I could cook for you. It’s your damn birthday.”
Shouto curls up next to his husband, running his hands through Katsuki’s stark gray hair. “The home nurse is bringing us some takeout. We can eat, cuddle, and watch that stupid movie you like so much.”
“Shut up. Next year we’ll do something fun, I promise. We can go to the fucking beach and find those stupid crabs you’re obssessed with.”
Fuck, it takes everything in Shouto not to breakdown right then and their. They both know Katsuki won’t make it to his next birthday–they fucking know. And it kills them both inside knowing that. But instead, they just carry on as they would.
“Yeah… we can do that next year.”
They lay there together, entangled with each other as they watched a movie that Katsuki’s been obsessed with for the past three years. Shouto honestly doesn’t know what the hell it’s even about, but if it makes Katsuki happy, then he’s happy.
There’s a soft knock at the door as the nurse enters, holding out a large bag full of all their favorite foods. He thanks her, setting it on the bed. Shouto takes the bag from her hands with a smile. “Can you take our picture?”
She gives a small, sad smile. “Of course.”
***
When Shouto wakes up, he’s in their kitchen. How did he get here? Did he sleep walk? Shouto looks around, but doesn’t notice anything different about their house. It’s the same kitchen as when he went to sleep.
He quietly steps out of the kitchen and into the living room, nearly passing out at what he sees in front of him. On their worn-out couch is Katsuki . But not the old grumpy man that he remembers. He looks young… healthy, even. Just like he did when they were in their twenties.
His husband turns on the couch to meet Shouto’s surprised gaze, a smile forming on his face. “What the hell? Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”
Shouto takes a hesitant step closer, already feeling himself welling up with emotions. “Katsuki? Is that really you?”
“No, it’s the nerd.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, “of course it’s fucking me.”
That’s all he needs to hear. Shouto rushes over to his husband, nearly tackling him into a hug. “I missed you so much. So much that every single moment without you hurt.”
“Well, I’m here now.” Katsuki returns the hug, burying his face in Shouto’s red and white hair. “I missed you, Shouto.”
Katsuki pulls away much to Shouto’s dismay, reaching behind their couch and pulling out a large box. He plops it into Shouto’s lap with a small, but confident, smile.
Shouto inspects the box with a curious gaze. “What’s this?”
“Well, it’s your birthday ain’t it? Open the damn box. I’m tired of taking care of the thing.”
Shouto slowly opens the box, nearly getting a heart attack as a small cat jumps out at him and rests on his lap. There’s no way. He looks at Katsuki then the cat, trying (but failing) to hold back his tears.
“Soba…?” Shouto smiles, embracing the cat Katsuki got him all those years ago. It almost seemed like a lifetime. “Thank you, Katsuki.”
“Happy birthday, Shouto.”