Chapter Text
“C’mon, pretty boy. Wake up already.”
Shouto stirs. There’s a warm, familiar weight on top of him. Too much light coming in from the windows.
He keeps his eyes closed, but turns his face towards the voice. It draws him in like gravity and he easily plays along.
Soft, careful kisses are pressed against his lips. A calloused hand strokes his cheekbone. “Hey. C’mon, I know you’re awake.”
This is without a doubt his favorite way to be woken up.
Katsuki likes his space during the night (usually) but he’ll come close in the mornings when he wakes. Shouto’s never awake to see how Katsuki reaches for him in that golden hour, but even in his sleep he knows to reach back and hold on tightly.
He knows how Katsuki likes to be touched and Katsuki knows how Shouto likes to be woken up in the mornings. And most of the time, that’s fine. That’s enough.
“Up up, you gotta go soon, I mean it,” Katsuki insists, and when Shouto opens his eyes he sees red ones staring back at him.
Ash-blonde hair backlit by the sun. Like an angel’s halo. Beautiful blonde eyelashes kissed golden in the light. Peach pink cheeks with their usual morning flush.
“...right now?” Shouto asks, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Why?”
He thought they could stay in bed awhile. Sometimes that’s allowed.
“‘Cause I’m leavin’ soon.”
“Oh.”
“I got a date,” Katsuki explains, and it feels like someone’s just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on Shouto’s head (which would still hurt, quirk and all).
“Oh.”
Shouto sits up immediately and whatever sleep-warm fever dream he was in—where he and Katsuki spend Saturday mornings together under the covers—disappears. He looks around for his shirt and finds it under the bed. Doesn’t even stop to make sure it’s not inside-out before pulling it on.
His pants are probably out in the living room, since he got those off last night in a hurry. Katsuki’s hurry.
“Oi, wait a second,” Katsuki scrambles to his feet.
“I have to go,” Shouto lies. “I have somewhere to be.”
“I didn’t mean you had to run off right this second, I said soon. I can still make you breakfast so you don’t have to eat whatever crap you’ve got at home.”
No. Not breakfast. Breakfast would kill him right now.
“You don’t have to do that,” Shouto assures, though he’s been looking forward to the taste of Katsuki’s scallion pancakes all week.
(A recipe perfected after a longstanding—albeit one-sided—rivalry with the Sichuan cafe down the block.)
“I know I don’t have to, what the hell is with you today?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about me.”
“Shouto-”
He’s dressed and out the door in less than three minutes. Two blocks away before he realizes he isn’t wearing socks with his shoes.
Then he’s standing in the middle of the street and realizes he has no idea where he’s planning on going.
This isn’t the way back to Shouto’s apartment. This is just a little shopping area. It smells like food. Maybe Katsuki’s going to have his date somewhere around here.
…which means Shouto can’t be anywhere close. He pats down his pants pocket, first the left and then the right to see which one has his phone. Then he pulls it out and calls one of two numbers he has memorized.
(Katsuki’s is one.) The phone rings and rings. Come on.
Midoriya picks up.
“Hello. Could I come to your house?” Shouto asks, hoping he doesn’t reek of the desperation he very urgently feels.
“Uh-um, yeah. Sure. When did you wanna come?”
“Are you home right now?”
A pause. “Yeah, I’m home right now. Are you… ok? Should I come get you?”
Maybe that’s not the worst idea.
-
“I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself,” Midoriya sits across from him, hands folded on the table. “I know you like being with Kacchan, but you can’t just keep doing it when it obviously hurts you a lot.”
Midoriya’s one to talk about continuing to do something when it obviously hurts. “Remind me how many bones you broke in high school.”
“That’s different!”
“Is it?”
“Even if it’s not, even if it is the same. Ok, maybe I was stupid. Maybe I was trying to prove something, but that doesn’t mean I can let you be stupid too. What kind of friend would I be if I did that?”
“A stupid one?”
“Todoroki-kun, I’m serious. You needa either tell him the truth about how you feel about him. Or tell him you can’t keep doing… what you’re doing.”
“Fucking,” Shouto mutters, rather crudely. “That’s all we’re doing.”
Midoriya reddens, but getting more explicit about the details of him and Katsuki isn’t going to be enough to get him to shut up. Shouto knows that.
Midoriya will brave anything for his friends, and too much information about the sex life of his childhood friend is not going to stop him.
“But that’s not all you guys do,” Midoriya points out. “You must… talk. Right? You said he makes you breakfast whenever you stay the night.”
Sometimes there’s dinner too. Whenever Katsuki tells him to come over on a weeknight he always cooks ahead of time and they eat together before they head to the bedroom and fuck.
They talk over dinner but not after the sex. Katsuki always falls asleep fast and sometimes he’s already out of it by the time Shouto gets up to steal clean underwear from Katsuki’s dresser drawer and lifts the sheets up over them both.
Shouto takes longer to drift off, mostly because he wants to enjoy a small window of post-sex cuddling that Katsuki allows. Before he inevitably decides it’s too sticky and too hot for this (still asleep) and rolls off.
“He just hates my regular diet,” Shouto shakes his head. “It doesn’t mean anything else. He cooks for you when you visit.”
“I-that’s-yeah, I guess—but he lets you kiss him.”
Shouto regrets telling him that. They do kiss, and sometimes it does feel more intimate than other times but it’s still just a physical sensation. Of course it’s going to feel like that. It doesn’t mean that Katsuki suddenly has feelings for him.
Katsuki’s just competitive about sex like he is about anything else. He’s always made sure he gets Shouto off just about as many times as Shouto does for him. He must know that Shouto loves kissing him, so he does it to keep their arrangement economical. He gets sex whenever he wants and Shouto gets to pretend like Katsuki is really his for a few hours every couple of nights.
It’s not a bad arrangement. It’s equitable.
They’ve even said I love you to each other a few times when they’ve gotten caught up in it. But he’ll never hold that against Katsuki. He’s so quiet when he says it—so loud otherwise—as his sweat-sticky hands tightly grasp onto Shouto’s hair. The words just slip out and Shouto doesn’t think he was the one meant to hear them. But he always says it back, kissing Katsuki’s temple or wherever he can reach.
I love you too. I love you so much. It’s the only time Shouto gets to say it. So he makes it count.
“He doesn’t date friends,” Shouto says simply. “Not anymore.”
He’s not sure exactly what happened with Kirishima, just that it never quite got off the ground right. That happened a few months into their (his and Katsuki’s) arrangement and what was supposed to be a final round of whatever they had turned into Shouto soothing Katsuki’s hurt, just being with him all night, and the sex for once came second.
They discovered the Sichuan cafe—with the scallion pancake recipe to beat—the following morning. Then a bakery across the street where Shouto made a mess of himself eating choux pastry and managed to coax out Katsuki’s smile. (A victory, though a small one.)
It was a long time ago, sure. But what Katsuki said over those two days is imprinted in the back of Shouto’s mind. How he never wants to do this again with someone who’s already a friend. Because he can’t stand the way Kirishima looked at him when he left. Because he needs… he needs something that’ll be permanent.
It’s been five years now. That friendship’s even been repaired. Kirishima and Katsuki are completely fine again. Better than fine. They’re great.
Now it’s just one of the many reasons Shouto can’t confess. He knows that Katsuki barely lets anyone in, he’s weird about touch a lot of the time, and he can be prickly and really kind of rude. If something were to blow up between them, Shouto knows that Katsuki wouldn’t have him to turn to anymore when he needs to feel nothing except the slide of skin on skin, a warm body pressed against his.
Katsuki wouldn’t do that with just anyone. He’s not like that, exactly, with Midoriya. Shouto knows he’s special, at least in that way.
Midoriya just groans. Shouto feels bad. They’ve had this conversation a number of times with the same result.
“I’m sorry you have to see me everytime…” he’s not sure what he means. “Everytime something doesn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.”
In this case, the morning he was planning in his head. With Katsuki and breakfast and acting like they were two people in love. (Not just one.)
“What? No, it’s not that, it’s not that at all,” Midoriya shakes his head. “I’m always happy to see you. I just don’t like to see you sad. And mopey.”
“I’m not,” Shouto protests. “I’m happy to be whatever he needs me to be.”
“...are you though?”
He thinks of the afternoon they took off work. Walking through the park and running under an awning when it started to rain. Katsuki leaned in and kissed him, and he still smelled like Shouto’s soap (from the shower they took together the night before). Shouto left kisses down his neck and when Katsuki felt him start to suck hard enough on a sensitive spot, enough to leave a mark, he called him a jerk. He laughed though. And when Shouto sucked even harder he was sucking in shallow breaths. Clinging to the back of Shouto’s soaked shirt.
They walked home together. He remembers Katsuki’s wet clothes sitting in his clothes hamper. Katsuki in his bed wearing nothing but tattered sleep shorts, angry and annoyed that Shouto was looking for a towel to dry off his hair instead of kissing him some more. He remembers kissing the back of Katsuki’s neck while towel-drying blonde, fluffy hair (the ticklish spots). He remembers the food they ordered after because Shouto was a “degenerate menace” who had nothing in his kitchen a person could possibly cook.
That was the best, most perfect day he’s ever had. The happiest he’s ever felt. “Yes.”
Midoriya sighs. “See… I just don’t believe that could be true.”
Shouto looks down at the table, smiling just slightly at the memory of the rain. If that’s all he ever gets to have then he’s still gotten more than he ever thought.
He replies like Katsuki would, using one of the phrases he’s picked up over the years. “Tough luck for you.”
-
Shouto’s never the one who sends out an invitation.
Katsuki usually texts him Friday nights, either to tell him to come over or tell him he’s working that night and he can’t. When he gets no text at all the following week he assumes Katsuki is planning on being with the other person.
The one he went on a date with. The one he chose. Though of course, it could be almost anything else.
He keeps his Friday night’s free for Katsuki so he spends tonight staring at the wall and petting his cat, Soba. Midoriya calls once and he lets it go to voicemail. He waits for the phone to buzz and he waits for it to be Katsuki but it doesn’t happen.
Then he goes to bed on a mattress he bought specifically because Katsuki complained about his old one, just once. He stays there, just sitting up a second and looking at Katsuki’s contact photo.
It’s a picture of him yelling at someone about something. Not a particularly attractive angle. But it’s the first one Shouto ever snapped of him and he can’t bring himself to change it. He likes the reminder of how long they’ve known each other.
Sixteen-year old Katsuki was the stuff of dreams for Shouto (and other people’s nightmares). Now he mocks Shouto from inside a phone screen. Held tight in the palm of Shouto’s hand.
“I’m pathetic,” he states dryly as Soba headbutts his leg and climbs onto his lap.
She makes herself comfortable and he wonders idly if cats fall in love with other cats. Whether their relationships tend to be this complicated.
Soba happens to hate other cats, so it’s out of the question for her. But out of the bonded pairs he’s seen at the shelter he volunteers, most of the time it seems very simple. No labels. Just two cats that can’t be apart from each other.
He wishes he could have that too.
-
Any thought of changing the way things are evaporates the following Wednesday night when Katsuki texts ‘u free?’
He tells Midoriya he’s sorry (in advance), and gets only several sad face stickers in response.
Then he goes out and buys a new cologne to wear to Katsuki’s apartment. The tagline on its commercial said ‘who wouldn’t fall in love.’ It’s very tempting to expect it to simply work.
Of course, things in real life are never as-seen-on-television.
He can barely imagine Katsuki in the part of the man in the commercial. The one who sees his beloved in a crowded street and runs towards them after getting a whiff of that scent (supposedly irresistible). One, because Katsuki doesn’t really do things like that, let alone in public. Two, because even when Shouto imagines things it's hard to place himself as the person Katsuki’s running towards.
In the end it doesn’t matter.
Katsuki takes one look at him and says, “You stink. What’s that about?”
“New cologne.”
“I hate it.”
“I gathered.”
He throws the whole bottle away when he gets back to his place the next morning (which in retrospect, is more wasteful than he generally likes to be). It hits the hard edge of the bathroom trash can and immediately shatters.
-
“How come you never say no?” Katsuki wonders.
Shouto is currently massaging his back. One, because he’s quite good at massages. He knows about the pressure points on the body and he’s been told he knows how to use his hands. Two, because it means Katsuki can be gloriously shirtless on his bed for non sex-related reasons. Three, because he loves the feeling of Katsuki’s bare skin under his hands.
He pauses. “What do you mean?”
“Whenever I ask you if you wanna do something… you’re always down.”
“I’ve said no before,” Shouto points out.
“Yeah, when you had the flu,” Katsuki scoffs. “And then I came over anyway.”
With hot udon. Shouto remembers. He tries to get back to his massage, hoping that Katsuki will drop the conversation.
But now that Katsuki’s found this thread he’s going to pull until he’s satisfied. He’s always been determined, persistent.
“You in love with me or something?”
Shouto’s heart nearly stops. It feels like glass shattering on a marble floor, the pieces going everywhere, poking, hurting, making him bleed. It’s different to say it during sex. There, anything goes.
Still, he can’t say no. That’s one of the things they’ve promised without ever speaking the words. He’ll never lie to Katsuki. He’ll never make him hurt.
“...you’re my first priority,” Shouto answers instead.
Katsuki stiffens. “Oh.”
He must feel guilty, Shouto reasons. Maybe it would be good to specify that there’s no need for Shouto to be his first priority too. It’s already enough to be wherever he is. Second to Kirishima, or third after Midoriya or fourth or fifth or sixth. Shouto knows that he’s somewhere on the list.
Which is special, because Katsuki’s list is short and the spots are hard to come by. Shouto doesn’t need to be his number one.
“Tell me where it’s still sore,” he says quickly.
“Uh… bit lower I guess.”
Shouto presses kisses down the path his hands travel. He warms his left to work open the knots of Katsuki’s muscle. When Katsuki lets out quiet sighs of pleasure or leans his arm back to pet Shouto’s hair approvingly, Shouto feels so good he almost forgets their earlier conversation.
But when they’re done it’s the first time out of all the times they’ve done this that Katsuki looks at him and mumbles a gruff “thank you.”
-
Shouto wishes it wasn’t still weird with Kirishima.
At least it’s only weird on one end. Kirishima is a wonderful friend, and he seems to have no idea that occasionally Shouto is so jealous of him that he can’t breathe.
It’s not Kirishima’s fault that he got to have Katsuki fully and completely when they were together. Body and soul. It’s not his fault that Shouto does not. In fact, knowing who Kirishima is, Shouto’s sure he would want both him and Katsuki to be happy, and he’d be the first one to celebrate the two of them getting together.
All of that is rational thinking though. And rationality tends to go out the window as far as Katsuki’s concerned.
In one of his more jealous moments, Shouto remembers holding Katsuki down with his own weight and demanding who was more talented in bed: him or Kirishima. Refusing to give him what he wanted and not moving a muscle until he got an answer.
Between Katsuki’s cries to ‘fuck off,’ ‘not gonna tell you’ and even a particularly mean ‘it was him, you gonna show me better?’ there was enough to set off a part of Shouto that he can only refer to as feral. Unhinged enough to pick up a tempo that had Katsuki moaning so loud the neighbors probably heard. Desperate enough not to stop until he heard you, it’s you, only you and then have the best orgasm of his entire life.
It was supposed to make him feel better. It did, for a moment. Until he was just laying awake at night with Katsuki in his arms, and thinking about how some people call it ‘making love’ instead of fucking.
Now matter how good he is at it, even if Katsuki comes apart when they’re together, shatters and pleads for Shouto to give him what he wants, they’ll never be doing the other thing.
It won’t ever be slow, and easy, and just for him: all of that love staring back at him from pretty, crimson eyes.
Even though he wants and wants and wants it. Every day a little more.
-
Sometimes, Katsuki’s meals aren’t free. He’ll text Shouto a whole list of groceries to pick up and bring to his apartment and Shouto will dutifully pick up every single one. It’s one of the few times they text consistently, and Shouto will use every excuse to show him a picture of the product and ask him if it’s the right one.
He has a spare key to Katsuki’s place and lets himself in when he’s carrying lots of stuff. It feels particularly couple-like, a cliche moment where he could call out the saying he’s seen on television: honey, I’m home. Katsuki would probably throw him out for saying something like that though, so he leaves well enough alone.
There’s a barstool next to the kitchen counter where Shouto’s supposed to sit and watch him work. He’s not allowed to help, and they’re not allowed any 'funny business' in the kitchen, no matter how good Katsuki looks wearing sweatpants, no shirt, and a plain black apron.
The food always smells irresistible, even partway being cooked and if Shouto stares hard and longingly enough, sometimes Katsuki will get fed up and give him a taste. (If only that worked for everything.)
That brings them to a Sunday in September. Shouto’s been here all weekend, which is unusual. He still had to go out and get the groceries by himself while Katsuki could prep the kitchen, and he’s chosen to assume the dating calendar is running dry on Katsuki’s end and he could use the distraction.
He takes his usual seat on the barstool when he gets back, and he watches all of Katsuki’s movements. They’re even, ordered, so well practiced.
There’s two pans out on the stovetop instead of the usual one and that’s what makes him curious. “Is someone else coming?”
He hopes not. Unless it’s Midoriya.
“What?”
“You have two pans. Are you making more food so that someone else can join us?”
Katsuki stops his efficient bustling around to stare him down. “No. We’ll eat as much as we want. The rest is for you to take home. You got a problem with that?”
“I don’t need extra food,” Shouto says, suddenly weak at the knees (glad he’s sitting down).
“I’ve seen the crap that you eat. You need all the help you can get.”
“It’s doubling your work.”
“You don’t think I know that?”
“No, I just thought-”
“Don’t just think then. It’s just us tonight.”
No funny business in the kitchen, that’s a rule, there’s so many rules. But Shouto finds himself leaning forward (for a kiss) and where he expects to be pushed back he’s met in the middle by Katsuki’s hand. His thumb strokes Shouto’s cheek and then Katsuki turns slightly so they can kiss on the mouth. He tastes faintly of soy sauce and sugar, maybe both in a mix.
They’ve kissed a lot, but it’s never enough, and anything extra is always a surprise. “...why did you do that?”
“Just because. You had a stupid look on your face.”
Oh.
Shouto always feels stupid. He wishes he looked like it more.
-
In October Katsuki takes him to a cafe. “Gotta eat up or you won’t have any stamina.”
He lets Shouto order cold soba. “So do you.”
It’s not a date. It can’t be a date, because it ends like their nights always do. In Katsuki’s bedroom with the lights off.
Only this time Katsuki asks to get on top. He sets the pace and he looks down into Shouto’s eyes. He calls him Shou and strokes Shouto’s face. His fingers trace Shouto’s lips, his eyebrows, his scar. His palms lay flat on Shouto’s chest, and his hair in the fading sunlight looks so bright it might catch fire.
He looks happy. He’s so warm.
He feels good, so good, and he makes Shouto feel real and grounded and better than he thought he’d ever know.
“You’re perfect,” Shouto tells him. “You’re so good to me.”
And Katsuki glows.
-
In November it starts to snow. Katsuki keeps a pair of his gloves and extra layers in Shouto’s apartment and Shouto starts work on a knitted scarf to give him before the winter’s over.
Their arrangement never explicitly forbade gifts. In fact, it didn’t explicitly forbid anything because they never explicitly talked about it all…
So the scarf is fair game. Even though he doesn’t really know how to knit, his mother does. It’s one of the only activities from the ‘outside world’ she was permitted while she lived at the hospital.
Sometimes they knit together. Her project’s intended recipient is him. She’s fairly advanced in the craft, so she’s making him an amigurumi cat.
He doesn’t tell her the intended recipient for his project. But she must have been able to figure it out from the color of his skeins. Dynamight orange. Katsuki orange. He also mentions how he's been meeting Katsuki for dinner. (As she’s his mother he pointedly leaves out the copious amounts of sex.)
Naturally, she assumes. “When do I get to meet my son’s boyfriend?”
It’s harder to tell her the truth than it is to tell himself. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”
He isn’t mine at all.
Something about being with her always makes him feel like a child again, and he feels the tears that belong more to his four-year old self coming up. Older pain surging to the surface and digging into newer hurts.
“You’re a very good friend for making this for him,” she says. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I never really dated when I was young, so I don’t know how it works. You’ll have to be patient with me, Shouto. Your mother’s getting old.”
“You’re not getting old,” he protests. “You’re still young. You still have a lot of time.”
They’ll have many more years together. They have to. (They lost ten years, he needs about eighty more.)
“I don’t worry about that now,” she admits. “I don’t need to live a long time. I just want to see my children happy.”
Ah.
“I can be happy,” he promises. "I'll work for it."
She smiles. “Oh Shouto. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it shouldn’t be something where you should have to try very hard.”
He sighs. It feels easy, sometimes, when he’s with Katsuki. It’s the truth of it that’s difficult. “... I don’t know if I know of another way.”
Maybe one day he’ll figure it out.
-
It’s six in the morning when he gets the call. It rings twice before he picks it up.
“Kacchan’s bringing a date to the fundraiser. Is it you?”
Shouto just woke up. He’s barely aware of himself and even less aware of whatever it is Midoriya’s talking about on the phone. “Is what me?”
“I was just looking at the guest list for the fundraiser and I saw that Kacchan wrote down that he was bringing a plus one so I wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be caught off guard. Unless it was you. Then I guess, yeah then you wouldn’t be caught off guard, but then I’d know that you know that you wouldn’t be caught off guard…”
“Midoriya, give me a moment.”
“Ok, sorry. I think maybe I should have led with a hello. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be awake yet.”
“I was up pretty late last night,” Shouto rubs eyes, tries to blink the sleep out and sits up.
“Oh. Were you with…”
“Yes,” Shouto says, looking at the empty spot next to him in the bed. “He must have left though.”
Midoriya’s quiet on the other end of the line.
“It’s not me,” Shouto says finally. “Thank you for letting me know.”
It’s never going to be me. There’s an ache in his chest, but it’s a familiar one. It’s nothing new. Katsuki dates. He might even assume that Shouto does too, despite what they do.
“Todoroki-kun, this isn’t fair to you, I don’t-I know you…you care about him but you can’t just-you can’t let him think that you’re ok with this.”
“I am ok with this.”
Before Midoriya can argue with him further, Shouto hangs up.
He considers not going. That would definitely be easier. But maybe it’s something he’s just going to have to get used to. Eventually, Katsuki’s going to find someone he likes enough that their ‘arrangement’ will stop permanently. When that happens, Shouto is going to have to move on and get used to seeing him with someone else. Otherwise, he’ll have to stop seeing him at all.
That’s not an option.
He can’t see his life without Katsuki in it. Katsuki’s gotten him through more than he could have ever asked for. Katsuki always stayed behind and looked out for him when it mattered. That’s also love.
-
When he’s getting dressed the morning of the fundraiser he thinks back to their high school graduation. He was fixing Katsuki’s tie. Smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt. Running his hands over Katsuki’s shoulders. His chest.
Then by the time he realized what he was doing, Katsuki was already smirking. “You feelin’ me up, Icyhot?”
Everything was a blur after that. Shouto remembers dropping his hands immediately and Katsuki grabbing them in his own. Putting them into place again.
He’d wondered if maybe he was being mocked when Katsuki pushed into his space, took his chance and kissed him.
There was no going back. After.
Sometimes he wonders what things would have been like if he had asked if they could date after that first time. If he hadn’t just accepted and said it was fine when Katsuki said he wouldn’t be in for anything serious. Sure, it wasn’t something that mattered to him as much (as much as it does now) at the time.
But maybe things could have been different. He should have tried.
Shouto sometimes thinks about what it would be like to have Katsuki with him getting ready for events like this. They’ve already gotten dressed together many times, so he knows what that’s like. He likes their easy banter back and forth. He likes being hurried along and being relentlessly teased for being a ‘rich bastard’ who dresses like a ‘department store manakin.’ It’s too quiet now, when he’s alone.
Soba, for her part, isn’t interested in harassing him while he’s getting dressed. There's no treats to be had and he doesn't blame her.
Katsuki looks good in formal clothes. If they did get to get dressed together more often Shouto would get a chance to see him like that before anyone else did. They could get dressed and then undressed and then dressed again and oh… he should stop wanting it this bad. He should get himself under control.
He carries some of Katsuki’s favorite mints in his back pocket, the ‘spicy’ kind. Then he remembers he has a date to this and he should probably go pick her up.
Midoriya is making him not go to this event alone, and absent of other options and unwilling to take anyone who might be seriously misled, Shouto finds himself with Soba’s vet.
She’s a reasonable person.
She likes and cares for his cat and Soba likes her back and that’s a sufficient enough qualification. She also knows that Shouto’s not romantically interested (he explained this) and was just happy to get an invitation.
“You look nice,” he remarks, upon seeing her.
“As do you, Todoroki-san.”
She asks about Soba on the drive to the event and he answers at length. Then she spends the rest of the trip talking to him about some of her other patients (of the feline variety) and their antics.
That’s when he starts thinking he could actually have a good time.
It’s even fine when he introduces her as Miyamizu-san to his table, and explains that she’s a doctor.
Then he stops at the bar. He remembers her drink preference so he orders it, then water for himself.
“‘Course you’d be drinking water on a night like this.”
Shouto’s heart skips in his chest. Or, no… his heart is standing right there. In a perfectly pressed suit. With a crimson tie.
Shouto wonders if he did it himself, or if someone else tied it. “I’m working tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh. So am I. You don’t see me pussyfooting around.”
Katsuki steps closer, and from muscle-memory alone Shouto ever so briefly closes his eyes. It’s humiliating. He really thought Katsuki was about to kiss him. Like they weren’t in a bar in front of dozens of people and not alone in a quiet apartment.
What Katsuki’s actually doing is brushing cat hair off of his shoulder. Much more normal. But if he’s noticed what Shouto’s done he doesn’t call it out.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere instead of standing around with me at the bar?”
(With your date, Shouto wants to say, but can’t quite say it.)
“Yeah? Who’s gonna make sure you’re not covered in cat fluff then?” Katsuki asks.
The bartender serves up his shot.
Shouto watches him drink it straight and finds himself wishing he could taste the vodka directly from his mouth. “I’ll have to start bringing my lint roller to parties.”
“Sure, that’ll make you popular. People love a guy with a lint roller.”
“Well, you seem to like me enough,” Shouto counters, suddenly defensive. (Over what, he’s uncertain.)
You do like me, right? He wonders suddenly. Do they have at least that much? He doesn’t doubt it, usually. Doesn’t typically need reassurance.
It never gets this bad when they’re alone.
The Katsuki who lets himself be held at night, that Katsuki he can sometimes imagine falling in love with Shouto the way he is.
It’s more complicated with this one.
“Not for the lint,” Katsuki shakes his head. “Or the lack of.”
It’s not enough. “Why then?”
“...huh?”
He seems genuinely startled, so Shouto knows it’s time to get out of there. “Forget I said anything. My date is waiting. I should probably go back.”
Miyamizu is kind and doesn’t complain that he didn’t even bring back her drink when he returns to the table.
She doesn’t even mention it at all. “Was that Dynamight?”
“Yes,” he answers.
“He’s not at all what I imagined. I hope you don’t mind if I say so, he’s really handsome.”
“I don’t mind,” Shouto shrugs. “I think so too.”
“You went to school together, right? I think I remember reading that. You both went to U.A.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“You must have lots of good memories together.”
“We do,” Shouto confirms, then. “I’m in love with him. I think I’ve been in love with him since then, and I didn’t know it yet.”
He says it quietly, so that the rest of the table doesn’t overhear. It’s probably a strange thing to confess to your cat’s doctor, but he’s fairly confident she wouldn’t tell, and it feels nice to say it to someone.
“Oh,” she says, even softer.
She puts her hand over his, and it’s comforting so he allows it. He’s never actually held Katsuki’s hand properly, so he can’t really compare the two.
“Who’s with him now?” she leans in and asks.
Shouto doesn’t recognize the man sitting next to him, but he’s young, probably their age. He has short brown hair, all one-color and no scar. Not a hero, or Shouto would know who he is. A civilian.
“I have no idea who that is.”
It would be worse, probably, if he knew. Then he could compare more, to see what exactly Katsuki looks for when it’s something worth taking out in public, something real.
Miyamizu doesn’t talk to him much during dinner. Which is fair enough. She’s highly interested in the food and Shouto can respect that. He could have done small talk if that was desired but he really isn’t in the mood.
There’s open dancing after dinner, and that’s when she taps him on the shoulder. “Shouto-san, can we?”
There’s really no reason to refuse. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he did bring her here on her off night. She should get to dance if she wants to, and she doesn’t really know anyone else here.
It’s not even particularly awkward that it’s a slow, romantic song. He knows the singer and the band. They’re apparently pretty good.
She doesn’t smell like Katsuki when he pulls her closer to him (too floral), but then again, nobody would.
“You know, he was looking at you all night during dinner,” she tells him, slipping her arms around his neck.
“He was?”
“Mhm.”
They sway in time to the music, and Shouto holds her back (very loosely) to match what everyone else seems to be doing.
“He looked like he was going to come over and bite my head off when I had my hand on yours.”
“That’s just his normal face,” Shouto explains.
“I’ve seen him on the news, I know his normal face. This was different. He was jealous, I promise you.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“If you don’t believe me, let’s turn around so you can look.”
Again, it’s not an unreasonable request, so Shouto waits for them to move in a circle until he’s facing the other way. Then he looks for Katsuki’s table and he sees what she meant.
Katsuki’s just sitting there with his date but he looks furious. He’s holding onto his glass so tightly it looks like it might shatter. He’s stiff as a board. Every cell in Shouto’s body wants him to go over there and help. Do whatever he wants and be whatever he needs until the hurt cools.
“He is upset,” Shouto acquiesces. “But it’s not because of me.”
Shouto isn’t worth enough to cause that kind of reaction. He ranks somewhere in the scheme of things, but not this high.
“If you trust me, there’s a way you can be sure.”
He’s come this far. “Ok.”
She kisses him, and it doesn’t feel alien or wrong like he might have thought. It just feels like nothing at all.
He’s never actually kissed a woman before, so that’s… interesting. He’s glad that it’s brief and relatively chaste (no open mouth or tongue). He’s not comfortable doing anything more if it’s not with Katsuki, even if Katsuki isn’t his alone.
When she pulls away from him she seems satisfied, and he spends a few seconds being slightly shocked at what just happened before he looks towards where Katsuki was sitting before. It’s empty.
He’s gotten up and gone.
-
It helps that it’s not the first time Katsuki’s gotten mad and left an event to blow off steam. It hasn’t happened in years, but Shouto’s sure he’ll still go to the same place. The roof.
Miyamizu lets him go, and he tells her to take their cab back home if he doesn’t come back. Other people have started to leave and he’s not sure if he’ll take long.
He stops by Katsuki’s table first, so he can talk to his date. There’s something familiar about this guy, it’s more obvious now that Shouto’s gotten closer, though he can’t quite place it.
“Aren’t you going to follow him?” Shouto demands.
It’s minimum etiquette, for a date, to follow you when you’re upset and see if comfort can be provided. Sure, Shouto would follow Katsuki to the ends of the earth. But surely this man can at least follow him a few steps out of the room.
“Katsuki asked me not to follow him. He was actually pretty clear about that,” the man replies, and he seems a little scared.
That’s not a good sign. “Wait. Who are you?”
“Bakugou.”
“No,” Shouto shakes his head. “He’s Bakugou. Who are you?”
“Right, sorry,” the man laughs shakily. “I’m Bakugou Koushi. I’m his cousin on his dad’s side. I really like pro heroes, Katsuki and I used to bond over being fanboys when I used to visit as a kid! ‘Course, now we barely talk and I kinda think he hates me but… my aunt convinced him to let me come to this to meet some of you.”
“Cousin.”
“I-yeah. That’s what I said?”
Now that Shouto considers it, he does look somewhat like Katsuki’s dad. Which makes sense. This is his cousin. Which means… this was never a date. Which means…
Shouto needed to be up on the roof several minutes ago. He grabs Katsuki’s discarded jacket from the back of his empty chair and heads for the main exit into the building lobby. There he spots the broken down elevator, so he considers his options, and settles on the stairs.
On the fourth flight it occurs to him that maybe Katsuki doesn’t want to see him but by the seventh he thinks that he should risk it either way. He made a promise to himself that he would never hurt him. Because Katsuki is precious to him even if he isn’t his to protect.
It hurts most to be hurt by someone who loves you. Even if Katsuki doesn’t know how deeply Shouto feels about it all, he must have known it. On some level. It’s not right for Shouto to hurt him over not reciprocating something that was freely given.
Even if he didn’t mean to hurt him. Even if he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.
Shouto’s right about the roof.
He opens the door, steps into the cool night air and Katsuki’s right there.
“GET AWAY FROM ME. FUCK OFF.”
He throws the words at Shouto over his shoulder. He’s still a bit far off. Sitting at the edge of the building with his knees dangling. He’s taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down.
“I’ll leave as soon as I know that you’re ok,” Shouto doesn’t listen, he gets closer. “I don’t understand what happened.”
“You don’t understand…fat fucking chance. I know you. You’re not that dumb.”
“Explain it to me,” Shouto joins him on the ledge, a safe three-quarter meter apart, he pleads. “I’m not lying. I really don’t know.”
“You’re so full of shit. How long have you been sleeping with her? Why the hell didn’t you tell me. I feel like an idiot.”
“I’m not sleeping with her. I only sleep with you.”
Shouto thinks he understands now. There’s been a breach of trust. As friends and sometimes lovers, he was supposed to talk to Katsuki about this. That’s why Katsuki’s so angry, because he’s been lied to.
Now that Shouto thinks about it, other than this occasion, Katsuki does tell him whenever he’s dating. It’s been a while though. At least three months. Since they kissed in his kitchen in September.
Katsuki's face is turning redder and his eyes are starting to water. “How am I supposed to believe that?”
“I never lie to you.”
Katsuki closes his eyes tight, and Shouto knows he’s counting to ten and naming constellations, countries or types of birds. It’s the exercise his therapist told him to do. Sometimes they do it together, the naming things part, and make it a competition over who can get more. Katsuki gets angry when Shouto starts making names up, and honestly that’s always been most of the fun.
“Fine. I’ll bite. Why’d she kiss you?”
“I didn’t know she would. I don’t even know her that well. She’s Soba’s veterinarian.”
“Did you do it because…’cause I wouldn’t tell you why I liked you? So you were gonna hurt me? Is that it?” he sputters. “I would have told you. Didn’t know it was that goddamn serious. I would have told you, you fucking bastard.”
He’s hurting. He’s hurting and Shouto still doesn’t fully understand what he’s done. Not completely, but he still has to say something that’s going to be enough.
“I would never do that to you. It was an accident, and I shouldn’t have let it happen,” he takes a deep breath. “It’s only you for me, Katsuki. You don’t have to worry about anyone.”
Yes, maybe it’s too much to admit to someone who hasn’t given him the same indication in return. Midoriya would certainly say his fair share of “It’s not fair to you Todoroki-kun’s” over it.
It doesn’t matter though. Shouto would stab himself clear through the heart if it meant that Katsuki wouldn’t shake like this. With the sobs reverberating through his whole body, coming out roughly and out of his control.
That’s what love means to him. It’s what it’s always meant and he learned it from his mother. (If you love someone, you protect them from pain.)
Shouto scoots closer on the ledge, and he pulls Katsuki into his arms tightly. Gently strokes the back of his hair. There’s resistance at first, but then Katsuki seems to breathe him in, and after that he lets them sit.
Maybe there’s something in the way Shouto smells that’s good for him.
“Only for you,” Shouto assures quietly.
It doesn’t even hurt, saying it this time.
“Mine,” Katsuki echoes, and his voice still sounds so rough, shaky from crying. “Even though you’re such a fucking idiot. Don’t even know why I like you.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me… reasons.”
“Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck your stupid ass—I can give you reasons. I like, fuck-I like just being with you. I like listening to you talk about whatever the hell kind of nonsense makes you happy and I like being there when you shut the fuck up. I like-I like this, I like that you know what to do and I don’t have to tell you how to…be with me. I like watching you with that hairball you call a cat and I guess I like watching you be a fucking nerd with Deku and the rest of ‘em. Jeez. What else… You know I like the sex. Practically bullied me into telling you that once.”
“Wow.”
“What…what wow. What the fuck.”
“I didn’t think-”
“Well that’s for damn sure.”
“Hey.”
“S’ok, dumb bastard,” Katsuki nestles closer in his embrace, kind of aggressively rubbing his nose, his whole face, into Shouto’s neck. “Stupid-idiot-empty head. Mine.”
“Have you had too much to drink?” Shouto asks, concerned over this level of clinginess (he loves it, but Katsuki’s rarely like this when they’re in a public place, right now he’s acting like they’re at home.)
“I can handle my liquor. I’m not some stupid fuck who needs to order water at the bar.”
Shouto rethinks the earlier interaction. “Did you come over there for me?”
“My idiot cousin was gettin’ annoying. Wouldn’t stop askin’ me to introduce him to everyone.”
(Translation: yes.)
“Ah,” Shouto feels a surge of elation. “How dare he.”
“Is that my jacket?!” Katsuki raises his head off of Shouto to peer behind him. “Gimme that.”
Shouto watches him reach out, grab it and turn it around to put his arms in. It’s too bad. This probably means the cuddling moment is gone.
“Midoriya told me you were bringing a date.”
“Deku? He’s not even here. Why’s he telling you shit about me?”
“He doesn’t understand it,” Shouto says, treading carefully. “Us.”
“It’s like you said, I guess. Priorities,” Katsuki nods. “Yeah. It works, right?”
“I’m committed to it,” Shouto assures (again).
Katsuki will always be his first priority. That seems to be what he’s asking.
Shouto doesn’t inquire about his own place in Katsuki’s ranking, being told the reasons he’s liked is probably a step far enough. He doesn’t want to push it.
“Good. Then it doesn’t matter what anyone understands or doesn’t. It’s what we’ve got.”
“Mhm.”
This is actually a somewhat romantic moment. This building is on the outskirts of the city, so it faces in towards the most beautiful part of the skyline. The view is undeniably beautiful, and even if it would be freezing cold for most anyone else the two of them never have to worry about that. Shouto surrounds them with warm air. Katsuki leans his head against Shouto’s and they watch the city breathe.
The stars are so bright tonight. Or maybe it just feels that way. Everything’s shining just for him. (The brightest thing in Shouto’s world.)
-
“He still hasn’t said he wants me,” Shouto attempts to explain.
Midoriya, apparently, is nearing the limit of his patience. “I mean, sure. I guess? But does it even make a difference? You’re telling me this now. Now you’re telling me he hasn’t dated anyone else for months. He got upset, right, he got upset when he saw you kiss someone else. It has to mean something. Todoroki-kun, just… you’re both so stubborn.”
“And you’re not?”
“Ok. Ok hear me out. Kacchan can be kind of an asshole. He was kind of taking advantage of the fact that you super love him for the…for the sex. But he didn’t know, right? He didn’t know that you were in love with him until a couple of months ago. You told me yourself that things are different now and that can only mean one thing. He’s… he’s trying.”
“Midoriya, he’s confessed to people before. He confessed to Kirishima. He’s never had a problem with being blunt about his feelings. If he wanted to be with me, I think I would know.”
“What if he likes you more than he liked any of those other people? And that’s why it’s harder.”
“I know that’s not the case.”
“How do you know that though? It’s not like you’ve ever told him how you feel.”
Shouto doesn’t say anything.
“You haven’t, right?”
“It’s not something I can tell you about,” Shouto says firmly, and Midoriya looks at him curiously.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know exactly, I just know that I can’t.”
Some things should only stay private. Between them and no one else.
Real love means trust. And Shouto loves Katsuki for real.
-
Yes, technically speaking he did confess once.
It was after something happened with Katsuki and Kirishima. He’s still not exactly sure what. Just… one minute it seemed like everything was fine (other than Shouto’s raging jealousy) and then things were… not fine. They were broken up.
Shouto had broken up with a friend before too once. He’d been with Sero, and then been without him. Initially, he assumed Katsuki’s situation was something like that. Sometimes things just don’t work out. In Shouto’s case, there was plenty of spark in the beginning, but then things just fizzled out. He liked hanging out with Sero better as friends, and they gradually just started doing that more until the breakup was almost natural.
No hard feelings. No tears, no crying.
It was different for Katsuki though. Or he wouldn’t have been saying all of those things. Things that were deeply painful for Shouto to even hear, but he let Katsuki let out anyway.
You don’t get it, it’s-it’s supposed to be us, me and him. You don’t understand how this feels. I want him—I still fucking want him and he-he doesn’t. He wants to be FRIENDS again. Friends. Can you believe that? I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know-don’t know what I fucking did wrong.
Shouto remembers the wretched, broken-up sounds he couldn’t stifle in the worst moments. Black tear tracks on his cheeks. So many questions that Shouto couldn’t answer. Round after round of tea that Katsuki rejected and left cold by the bed. Waiting for Katsuki to get it all out, then sleep off the exhaustion and wait for it to start again.
He’d never actually seen Katsuki act like that. And to be fair, he hasn’t seen it since. Katsuki was always too proud, Shouto thought, to let someone see him like that for a moment. Let alone hours at a time. He liked to be independent. Dealing with everything as it comes, and over everyone else’s bullshit.
Relationships, Shouto figured, must be his weak spot. The one chink in an otherwise impenetrable armor.
As far as Shouto could tell, there hadn’t been a big fight between the two of them either. The relationship wasn’t toxic. Just a few weeks trial of something that didn’t fully work. He could see how Katsuki could have trouble accepting that. He could see how Katsuki would view that as a personal reflection.
Also, Kirishima would never hurt a friend willingly. Shouto knew that much.
Don’t wanna see him ever again Katsuki would say. And Shouto would promise that in a few months, or maybe more, things would feel different. Maybe not completely better (yet), but different.
I’m tired, leave me alone Katsuki would mutter and stay in bed. So Shouto would head to the kitchen and start making a mess of things, trying to cook, so that Katsuki would get up and berate him.
After a few days, it seemed to all get better. Katsuki slept through the night, and he seemed content to stroke Shouto’s hair. So fucking soft, he kept repeating, and it was flattering and soothing and Shouto couldn’t help but drift off with him.
It was almost dawn when he woke up next. The whole bedroom was lit in dark navy and cornflower blue.
He thought Katsuki was asleep entirely when he said it. He wouldn’t have, otherwise.
In some ways it was an expression of what he hoped would happen. In others, an answer to things that Katsuki had mumbled, then hastily suppressed, over the days before. Don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I’m fucked. I fucked up and I’m… alone.
He was probably right to call it, give it up. Who would even want… never mind. He’d left marks on Shouto’s wrists by pressing so tight whenever Shouto even shifted or got up to leave. He apologized for things he hadn’t even done. He thought he was being a burden and he hadn’t showered in so many days so he badly stunk.
“I could see myself with you,” Shouto had said then, like an idiot. “I like you.”
It had felt right. Because Katsuki was his favorite person.
“No,” Katsuki had stirred, and turned around to face him. “Don’t… don’t do that.”
“Why?”
Katsuki had shaken his head and he’d pushed himself up against Shouto so close, his arms around Shouto’s neck and his hot breath right by Shouto’s ear.
His voice was strained and coarse from sleep. “Please. Just don’t. Fuck. I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s ok. You don’t have to explain.”
“I don’t… don’t wanna fuck it up.”
“You won’t. We’re… friends, right? That’s forever.”
“Nothing’s forever, Icyhot.”
“No,” Shouto had said with a surety that even he didn’t recognize. “This is. I promise. I know it.”
Whatever happens, he'll make sure.
-
Katsuki leaves for a trip overseas (for the agency) on December 6th. It’s been two weeks since the fundraiser and Shouto thinks they’re ok now. Back to normal.
He lives closer to the airport than Katsuki does, so he lets him stay the night before he flies out. He makes the usual roundabout inquiries to figure out if Katsuki wants sex, but he doesn’t seem to want to.
What he does instead is extremely strange. Crouching down on the floor and petting Shouto’s cat. Then he brings out a blue stuffed mouse from his right pant’s pocket and holds it up in front of her.
A bribe. But for what?
“If you wanted her to like you, you should have gotten treats. Toys are a lot more work,” Shouto gets on the floor too and watches them.
Katsuki just glares, as if implying that he couldn’t win her over is very offensive. Then he continues holding up the blue mouse in different places in the air, and Soba follows the path of the mouse with her eyes. Building interest, and crouching into a hunting pose.
Then he tosses the mouse. She gets it, and waits there for him to retrieve it and toss it again. So he does. One round. Two. Then three…
She’s loving it. Her tail is straight up in the air and she’s engaged and happy. Shouto’s touched.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Noticed she was still kinda skittish around me.”
“You are kind of loud.”
(Cats don’t like that so much.)
Pleased by the play, Soba lies down next to him and flops over so he can rub her belly.
“And she’s not?” Katsuki laughs, and he scratches her fur. “See, I’m not so bad.”
“I never said you were.”
“I was talking to her.”
“It’s gonna take more than a few minutes of playtime to get her to really trust you,” Shouto points out.
Katsuki looks up at him. “I figured.”
“I can put in a good word for you, but you’ll have to put in the work.”
“Think if I do, she’d let me pick her up?”
Shouto considers. Soba barely lets him pick her up. He has so many scratches on his hand from the last time he had to put her in her cat carrier.
“You’d have to put in a lot of time.”
“I can do that,” Katsuki says, and he’s petting Soba but he’s looking directly at Shouto.
Something feels settled, but Shouto isn’t sure what.
-
The next morning is a rush to get to the airport (they overslept). It’s Shouto’s fault. It’s been ages since they went to bed without having sex, and the routine was disrupted and therefore he didn’t set any alarms.
He woke up with Katsuki’s hair in his face, and all eleven pounds of Soba’s fluff sitting on his chest, and it was a lot to sort out.
“Deku and Kirishima are going to be here,” Katsuki says as they unload his suitcase from the car. “To see me off.”
“Alright.”
“That means if you wanted to do any sappy shit your time is now.”
“Oh,” it’s not like Shouto has anything prepared, and he’s not sure what ‘sappy shit’ holds in its scope.
He settles for kissing Katsuki’s cheek. “Have a safe flight.”
“Ok then, let’s go.”
Kirishima and Midoriya meet them at the terminal. They don’t comment on why Katsuki came with Shouto in tow.
The conversation flows easily for a few moments until Midoriya checks his phone and anxiously tells Katsuki that he has to go.
“I’m going, calm down, flight doesn’t board for twenty minutes.”
“Security check could take at least that long,” Midoriya cautions. “Or more.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and then he claps Midoriya on the back in a sort of half-hug. They’ve come a long way over the years, and Shouto’s glad he could be there right from the very start.
Then he hugs Kirishima too. Shouto looks on with surprisingly minimal jealousy (almost none) and he wonders if he’s going to get a goodbye hug too. Maybe not, since they did their ‘sappy shit’ in the parking garage and maybe his quota is done.
But Katsuki comes towards him too, and he gets pulled to Katsuki’s chest. “Take care of the hairball while I’m gone.”
Then he turns and walks towards the gate and Shouto watches him go.
“Travel safe!” Kirishima yells at his retreating form.
Midoriya says something of the sort too.
They’re all Katsuki’s friends, all three of them. Shouto should be happy about that. It’s silly to want to be special.
He does though.
He wants to be picked. He wants to be first. He wants to be the first thing Katsuki thinks about in the morning and the last thing he thinks about at night. He wants to be the favorite, he wants and wants and wants.
Katsuki keeps walking away. He’s not yours, Shouto reminds himself. He never will be.
“Kacchan, bring me back a souvenir!” Midoriya shouts.
Kirishima nods. “For me and Todoroki too!”
Katsuki looks over his shoulder to wave back. “Go home already! Don’t you fuckers have work to do?”
He locks eyes with Shouto. Then he stops in his tracks. He’s almost at security, but now he’s turning back.
Maybe he forgot something.
Shouto racks his brain for what it could be, and tries to remember exactly how his car looked when they left it. His apartment.
Then Katsuki’s standing right in front of him.
“You forgot something?” Shouto guesses.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says, and he takes Shouto’s face in his hands.
As if there’s no one around. As if there’s no one watching. As if they’re alone in the kitchen in September. In the bed when Shouto promised him nothing would ever change, when he'd promised to be there forever.
“What is it?” Shouto asks, slow and careful.
Katsuki leans in and kisses him. There’s a sweetness to it. Like a shy goodbye or an innocent hello. It’s soft, and Katsuki waits for him to breathe before kissing him again, smiling against Shouto’s mouth. Kissing him is so familiar, he’s done it so many times. It shouldn’t be able to feel this new. But it does.
“That’s what you forgot?” Shouto asks, then physically points to himself. “Me?”
His brain is pure and utter syrup. That kiss just cleared any thought he’s ever had out into oblivion.
“You, Shou,” Katsuki confirms quietly, without so much fanfare as an added ‘dumbass’ or ‘bastard’ or ‘idiot.’ “Nothing else.”
He kisses Shouto again, quick and sudden. Open and honest and in front of everyone.
It’s so unbelievable that it’s even happening that his eyes start to water and at that Katsuki stops and brushes the wetness from his eyes. “I’m not even gone yet, don’t miss me already.”
“Sorry,” Shouto answers automatically. “I can’t control it.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to call.”
“You have my number,” Shouto says blankly, still lost and in shock.
(And still helplessly, hopelessly in love.)
“...I know what I’ve got.”
“Leave,” Shouto says, because if Katsuki stays a moment longer he won’t be able to let him go. “You’ll miss your flight.”
“Fuck my flight. I’ll miss you more.”
Shouto’s dead. He’s died and he’s gone to heaven. And heaven looks like the international terminal of Tokyo-Narita airport.
“Kacchan, you’re gonna be late!” Midoriya calls out from behind.
Katsuki lets go reluctantly. “Ok. Bye.”
“Bye. Be safe.” (I love you.)