Archive of Our Own

The pajama party was Hagakure’s idea.

She said it would help the class grow closer now that they’re living together, but Shouto isn’t sure why they would need to, considering they’ve all lived together for more than a year.

But he’s never been to a pajama party before, and so far it seems like a nice time, although he’s not quite sure either why this is any different than the other hundreds of times they’ve sat around the common room together in their sleep clothes. Even the cake isn’t that unusual, considering how much Satou has to bake for his and Momo’s quirks and Uraraka’s sweet tooth.

He doesn’t say anything, though. His friends are happy, and he’s happy enough getting to spend time with them like this, even if he doesn’t quite understand the point of it.

Well, most of them are happy.

Shouto catches himself halfway through a yawn when he sees Katsuki roll his eyes on the other side of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the wall. Eijirou and Denki are next to him naturally, both talking to each other with a mirrored animation, but Katsuki doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

Look at all these losers, his eyes say, and it’s a language Shouto has spent the last year trying to learn. He’s at his best when people are direct with him, when they say exactly what they mean without assuming he’ll read between the lines, and Katsuki’s often the loudest and most direct of them all, but over the last year, Shouto’s learned to look for the subtleties that say more than his words can.

The way his eyes track Izuku in the field has taught Shouto when he needs to be the most alert. The way his body relaxes when Eijirou is in shoulder distance has taught Shouto to appreciate the easier moments. And the way he takes two steps forward just to wait for Shouto to match him one step behind has taught him that no matter what Katsuki might shout from the rooftops whenever it’s mentioned, he knows that they’re friends.

So now, although he wants anyone around him to know that he thinks this is stupid, he’s still in his pajamas and out of bed an hour later than usual, and that means, Shouto knows, that he wants to be here with them.

Or he did until about two seconds ago.

Katsuki looks directly at him before pushing himself off the wall and turning on his heel towards the hall. Eijirou’s head jerks at the movement, but by now, no one considers Katsuki leaving in the middle of a dorm event to go to bed that unusual. Shouto either, although he planned to stay up with the others this time to show his support.

When he stands up to his feet, it’s entirely unintentional.

“Todoroki?”

Shouto turns towards Izuku, his surprised voice snatching his attention. His eyebrows are raised curiously, and Shouto knows that means he should explain himself.

He should probably explain himself.

“I think I’m going to bed.”

“Oh,” he relaxes with a smile. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”

And it’s not entirely a lie. He does believe when he says it that his intention is to go to bed now like he always does because that’s what makes the most sense, but when Shouto walks away from the party, he doesn’t go in the direction that leads to his own room.

Instead, he turns another way, a route he’s been going a lot more lately, because these last few months, instead of going back to his own room, he finds himself standing outside of Katsuki’s door with the same puzzled expression on his face like he has every other time as well.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering.

So Shouto knocks the way he always does, and just like always, his brain scrambles to come up with an excuse as to why he came here, and usually homework works because Katsuki, for all anyone else might think of him, actually takes his time here seriously.

But they’re on a break, just finished with their exams a few days ago, and the only people in their class with homework now are the ones who didn’t do well, and Shouto knows that neither he or Katsuki would have failed (again).

Katsuki opens the door, and the first thing Shouto notices is how even in his sleep clothes he always looks bruskly casual. The muscles in his shoulders and arms curve around him like an armor from beneath the wide straps of an old tank top, and his pants hang low on his lips, and it’s a nice image that never changes night after night that Shouto’s found himself looking at more than he looks at anyone else.

The second thing Shouto notices is that only the bedside lamp is on behind him.

“Were you going to sleep?”

“Nah,” he says and turns around.

He doesn’t exactly invite him in, but Shouto follows him anyway, and Katsuki doesn’t do something explosive like tell him to get out, but then again, he never has before.

He sits down on the bed, and Shouto joins him, hands folded in his lap and spine rigid as a board. He knows this about himself. He didn’t always, but he’s seen himself in enough pictures taken by the others that he’s aware of it, but even then, he still can’t seem to stop. Katsuki used to point it out. The fuck are you so stiff for, but he doesn’t anymore. Maybe he doesn’t care anymore, or maybe he’s just used to him.

Either way, when Shouto exhales, he feels something in his shoulders loosen.

“Had about enough of that,” Katsuki says, and Shouto looks at him. “The fuck do we need a pajama party for? Like I haven’t seen every last one of you losers naked fifty thousand times.”

“I don’t think you’ve seen us that often at all.”

“It’s a metaphor, asshole,” he says. “Point is, we don’t need to do bonding shit all the time to live together when we’ve been living together this whole time.”

“You still came.”

“Yeah, so no one would come crying about it.”

“In your pajamas.”

“‘Cause I was wearin’em anyway,” he huffs and leans back against the wall. “So did you.”

“Yes, I do like to be in my sleeping clothes at this time of night,” he says, and the corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitches. “Have you ever been to a pajama party before?”

Katsuki sucks his teeth. “Yeah, I mean when I was a kid we had ‘em all the time before it got stupid. And I guess me and Deku did it a lot before I got my quirk, but I don’t know if that counted since we were pretty much in diapers.”

Shouto frowns to himself in consideration. So this is something only younger children do. “I see.”

“Why? What about you?”

Shouto shakes his head. “No, I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh,” he says, sitting up. “Alright well usually you and whatever losers you invite pile up in your living room on some futons or whatever, put on a movie, eat whatever snacks your parents stocked up on, and stay up all night fucking around until you pass out.”

“Is that the same thing as a slumber party?”

“Pretty much,” he says.

“Then why are we calling it a pajama party?”

“Probably since we’ve all gotta be back in our rooms before curfew,” he shrugs. “The fuck would I know? Gloves is the one who came up with it.”

“Gloves.”

“Yeah, what the fuck else am I supposed to call her? She’s invisible.”

“I’ve never seen you acknowledge Hagakure before.”

“Yeah, because she’s invisible.”

“Then you knew she was in our class this whole time?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that, you think I don’t know who– oh you’re just fucking with me,” he says, and Shouto smiles slightly. “I hate when you do that. Can’t tell you’re joking because of your stupid face, and you always make me look like a jackass.”

“Should I stop then?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

Shouto’s smile widens as he looks off. It’s fun to tease him.

The rest of Katsuki’s room is clean and more the him he is on the inside than how he presents himself to people who don’t know him. There are three All Might posters on the walls that weren’t there a year ago, because he somehow thought he needed to hide the fact that he was a fan, and there are pictures now hanging from little clips that weren’t there before either.

The first is a selfie taken by Eijirou on one of their hikes next to a photo of his friend group at what Shouto thinks might be a burger place, and then there’s a picture of him and Izuku as small children in All Might costumes, a picture of Katsuki next to Best Jeanist, and then the last one is a photo Shouto never knew anyone took of them.

“Where did you get that?”

“Get what?”

“That picture of us,” he says, pointing towards the wall.

“Oh,” he says. “I think either your dad or Hawks sniped it when we were on patrol last year.”

“How did you get it?”

“Fuyumi sent it to me.”

Shouto turns to him confused. “How are you in contact with my sister?”

“Relax, weirdo, she sends me recipes and shit,” he says. “How do you think I know how to make all the shit you like?”

“Yes, the taste is rather uncanny.”

Katsuki pushes himself up off the bed and walks over towards the bookshelf. He grabs a notebook that looks like one of Izuku’s off of the middle shelf and brings it back to him. “Here.”

Shouto opens the notebook and flips through a handwritten collection of recipes. “I didn’t know you had this.”

“Yeah, started when I asked for her mapo tofu recipe back when we went to your place last year, and then she started sending me how to make all the food you like like I was supposed to make it for you or some loser ass shit like that.”

“You have made all of this for me,” Shouto says as he flips through the pages. There’s even a note at the bottom of one of them that says asshole likes extra vinegar. The next page says if it’s too spicy, he gets the hiccups.

“Yeah, because I wanted to eat them,” he says. “You getting some too was just because you always make that stupid face when you want something.”

“What stupid face?”

“The one you’re making right now.”

Shouto reaches up and touches his own cheek with a confused frown. He’s been accused of not having any expression at all more than he has of making one to get what he wants. Although, he can’t see how his face could look that way when he’s sure he doesn’t want anything at all right now.

He closes the notebook and gets up to put it back on the shelf himself in the exact place he saw Katsuki remove it, and he wonders silently what the other notebooks could be for. What other secrets is Katsuki keeping on these shelves?

Shouto doesn’t ask him, though. Katsuki is a private person, even if he usually does answer his questions directly, and for that, Shouto lets his curiosity go unsatisfied this time.

When he turns around, he sees only one of Katsuki’s grenades on the dresser.

“Where’s your other gauntlet?”

“Sent it in for repairs after class yesterday,” he says. “Left side got jammed up and misfired. Support department said it’s something about the humidity fucking up the tubes, I don’t know, but they said I’d get it back Monday.”

Shouto nods. “The other gauntlet is fine then?”

“Guess so. Probably gonna make me take it in separate in a few weeks.”

“Yes, that does seem likely.”

“Hatsume’s little hobgoblin asked about you,” he says, and Shouto looks at him in surprise. “The weirdo with the, uhh, x-ray quirk.”

“Ah,” Shouto says, pleased. “The first year support student.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow at that, and Shouto feels the left side of his face warm.

“He worked on my suit a few months ago,” he says. “He was the one who suggested adding thermal resistant padding to my boots because he noticed how the weakened soles were adding stress to my joints.”

“That’s weird as shit, you know that right.”

“I don’t think so,” Shouto says. “If his quirk allows him to see if we’re causing long term damage to ourselves, and he can help us before it happens, I think that’s a good thing.”

“He was staring at your bones, Shouto.”

Shouto smiles slightly at the sound of his name. “Is that unusual?”

Katsuki’s face twists into a question mark. “The fuck do you mean is that unusual? When’s the last time you checked out some other dude’s femurs?”

“Does it bother you that someone looked at my bones?”

Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest and looks off with a scowl. “No.”

“Then I don’t see why it matters.”

“I just don’t see why you’re so goddamn happy about it. You know he’s gotta look at your ass before doing his little x-ray shit, right? There’s layers to this.”

“So that’s what bothers you.”

Katsuki glares at him, but he doesn’t answer, so Shouto takes his seat back on the bed, in kicking range, but it’s worth the risk.

“It’s nice that my feet don’t hurt on patrol anymore,” he says. “It makes it easier to keep up with you.”

He snaps his mouth shut at that, and Shouto surges internally with victory. He is fun to tease.

“So what did you say?”

“What did I say to what?”

“You said he asked about me.”

“Oh,” he says. “I told him to fuck off.”

Shouto raises his eyebrows, surprised. “I’m sure telling him I was doing well wouldn’t have been difficult.”

Katsuki huffs a laugh. “That wasn’t the question.”

“Oh?”

“Asked if you were seeing someone,” he says. “Like that’s some shit I’d know.”

“You don’t?”

“You think I’m spending all my free time worrying about your personal life?”

Shouto looks away and frowns. “No.”

“Star of the universe,” he says, nudging him with one of his toes. “Main character ass, pretty boy loser. Thinks he’s so damn special, I got nothing better to do than think about who he’s fuckin’ around with.”

He looks back at him then, annoyed enough to take the bait, but Katsuki should hear what he has to say. “I just thought you’d know I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Now why should I–,” he says, and the room is too dark to be sure, but Shouto swears he sees his ears darken. “Maybe don’t have your fanboys asking me about you then.”

“How could I stop them?”

“Make it clear what the fuck you’re doing, I don’t know.”

Shouto tilts his head slightly. “What am I doing?”

“Good fucking question.”

He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on him. Although that might have been less catastrophic.

What am I doing?

Coming here tonight and every night before this just to talk with no one else around, saying things just to get a reaction out of him like Shouto is someone who needs attention, following him out of a party?

Shouto looks at his hands and furrows his brows. Katsuki’s tolerance is something he seems to have taken for granted.

“I should–.”

“How the fuck have you never been to a slumber party,” Katsuki says, cutting him off. Shouto turns to him in surprise. “Like yeah, I know how, but you’ve been living in this people Petri dish for more than a year now, and I can’t believe the nerd hasn’t shown up at your door with his pillow and All Might movies.”

Shouto flushes slightly in embarrassment. “No, I think I go to sleep too early for that, and Izuku respects that.”

Katsuki’s eyebrows raise. “What about Sero? Don’t you two have a little manga swap going on?”

“Is it common for people to fall asleep together while reading manga?”

Katsuki scratches his jaw. “In certain situations.”

“Should I be doing that with Sero?”

“Absolutely not,” he says, and Shouto frowns. “I mean, fuck, if you want to. I don’t know.”

“I think I would like to experience a slumber party.”

“So do it,” he says. “What’s stopping you?”

Shouto hums to himself. “I don’t know.”

He looks back at Katsuki and sees him squinting at him.

“What?”

“You’re going to make me do this the hard way aren’t you?”

“What am I making you do,” Shouto asks, and Katsuki swears to himself before sitting up.

“Well you’re going to need to go get your own pillow, ‘cause you sure as hell ain’t using mine.”

Shouto blinks in surprise. “Why would I need a pillow?”

“To put your big stupid head on, why the fuck else would you need one? Jesus Christ.”

“Are you asking me to spend the night in your room with you?”

Katsuki twists his mouth in irritation. “No, get out.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Get the fuck out of my room, asshole, I’m going to sleep.”

Shouto’s lips tug back into a smile he knows he should by all means bite back, but Katsuki folding in on himself like this because he’s embarrassed for asking him to stay the night with him is something Shouto never expected to see.

“Can I stay here?”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his own arms. “Fuckin’ weirdo ass loser.”

“Will there be snacks?”

“Fuck off,” he says and yanks the blankets up. Shouto smiles, and sure it might be at Katsuki’s expense, but this invitation does make him particularly happy, as painful as it must be to give. “I’m going to sleep. Do what you want.”

And then he turns the light off, shrouding the room in complete darkness, and Shouto’s chest tightens. There’s a light ruffle of bedsheets as Katsuki climbs underneath the covers, and Shouto’s heart beats just a little bit faster. They’re both aware that Shouto’s never been in this situation before, which is why Katsuki offered in the first place, but being here right now in the dark with just the sound of Katsuki moving to focus on makes it that much more real in a way Shouto isn’t used.

Katsuki doesn’t tell him to hurry up or impatiently kick him out for taking too long, but Shouto can hear him breathing, shallow and sharp through his nose just quickly enough that confirms Shouto’s own anticipation.

“Is this how slumber parties work?”

He hears him swallow before answering. “Not really.”

“Oh.”

“Usually someone sleeps on a futon on the floor,” he says.

“Should I do that?”

Katsuki takes a deep breath, and Shouto squeezes his eyes shut. “No.”

“Okay,” he says. Shouto feels his way around as his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. His hand finds one of Katsuki’s legs, so he moves his knees to the other side of it, careful not to crawl over him, and he finds his way to the top of the bed where the blankets were pulled back for him.

It’s strange getting into someone else’s bed.

Katsuki’s mattress is softer than he’s used to, and he almost sinks into it once he lies down. There’s a slight dip in the center from Katsuki’s weight, and when Shouto relaxes he rolls into him.

“Sorry,” he mutters and inches himself back.

“‘S’fine,” he says, and Katsuki’s breath puffs out over his lip, and Shouto realizes with a shock that he somehow ended up on his pillow with him.

He swallows, grateful that he can’t see the way his cheek burns. “Should I move?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Shouto bites his lip and forces himself to close his eyes. There’s no need for him to consider this kind of closeness anything unusual. After all, they’ve fought together and bathed together, and he knows that Katsuki was one of his first friends here. Being physically close is something he shouldn’t have to think about.

“Are you holding your breath?”

“No,” Shouto says.

“Liar.”

Shouto exhales half in annoyance and half because he had been holding his breath unintentionally. His body feels like a plank despite how much he wills himself to relax, and his own breaths come out unreasonably loud, and it’s all very much out of his control.

“Relax, idiot,” he says quietly, and Shouto presses his clasped hands against his own chest.

“It’s new,” Shouto says, frustrated, before he hears Katsuki shift, and then a finger prods one of his cheeks. “What are you doing?”

Katsuki prods him more, and Shouto twists his head away.

“Stop that.”

“Heh.”

“You’re being annoying,” he says.

“Yeah? And you’re being weird,” he says. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

Shouto turns back towards him and sighs. “Fine.”

“Better?”

“I think so,” he says, and the annoying pokes become a casual, soothing stroke against his cheek.

“Your face is soft.”

“I moisturize.”

“You should drop that in your next interview.”

“I would rather not,” he says, and Katsuki laughs. “Your hand is soft.”

“‘S’my quirk.”

“Do they hurt,” Shouto asks, eyes lulling shut at the hand on his cheek.

“Hm?”

“Your hands from fighting without calluses.”

“Oh,” he says. “Nah. My gloves keep ‘em from getting busted up.”

Shouto hums and nods in understanding. “Feels good.”

He doesn’t mean to say it, but the thought manifests out loud, and instead of telling him he’s being weird or flipping away from him, Shouto feels him shift again until the other hand slips between him and the pillow.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Your face is cold on this side.”

“It’s my quirk,” he says.

“Huh.”

Shouto opens his eyes, just now able to see him faintly in the dark. He’s close, face smooshed slightly, but he’s the most relaxed Shouto’s ever seen him. There’s no angry scowl, no snarl, no enlarged whites of his eyes. He looks peaceful like this. “What?”

“Is it like that everywhere?”

“I think so,” Shouto says.

“Kinda cool, I guess.”

“Only on one side.”

Katsuki laughs. “Will you shut the fuck up.”

Shouto smiles to himself, pleased about his own joke, and they lay silently for a while, Katsuki rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs almost like he’s gauging the temperature, while Shouto counts his own breaths, making sure he fills his lungs enough that he doesn’t let himself get dizzy.

Neither of them are asleep, he’s sure, and it’s nice that they don’t have to talk to spend time together, that the silence isn’t heavy.

But Shouto has so much he needs to say, and he’s not sure how much longer he can go without saying it, especially if Katsuki hasn’t figured it out on his own yet.

“Bakugou?”

“What?”

“Does it bother you that the support student asked about me,” Shouto asks, and before he can answer, the rumble of their classmates coming down the hall stops them both.

“Shut up, dude, Bakugou’s sleeping!”

“Oh shit, my bad!”

“Shh!”

Katsuki exhales a deep breath and pulls back his hands before rolling over on his back. “We should sleep.”

Shouto watches him quietly, studying the outline of his profile and wondering what his answer would have been if he had the chance to say it.

No, because he doesn’t care who wants to see Shouto.

Yes, because he hates when people bother him.

No, because he knows it doesn’t matter who asks.

Yes, because it should be obvious.

It should be obvious.

Shouto reaches forward to take his jaw in hand and tilts his face towards him, and Katsuki comes easily, head rolling over and eyes as tired as Shouto feels, and he comes so easily that Shouto doesn’t stop to think that what he might be doing could have consequences, like him being asked to leave and never come back.

But Shouto isn’t thinking at all, and Katsuki is right here, and he isn’t moving away from him.

And he isn’t thinking until it happens that this is his first kiss, that this is what his classmates have all talked so much about with so much emphasis that he thought he’d be too bad at it to try.

But like this it happens. Shouto leans towards him, and Katsuki doesn’t move away, and their noses press together, which he’s sure isn’t supposed to happen, but Katsuki moves the right way because he’s done this before.

He knows he’s done this before because he said he has. In middle school. He kissed someone before, and this is Shouto’s first kiss, and Shouto isn’t doing it right.

But Katsuki pushes himself towards him, taking his face back in his hands like before, except this time he holds Shouto in place, anchoring him as he kisses him over and over again, and it’s too fast. Shouto struggles to keep up until he can’t anymore, and his mouth falls open, giving in because while the outside moves too quickly, the inside slows to a stop, and that’s when his tongue swipes over his lower lip.

Shouto lets out a harsh huff before sealing their lips, and he finds the right rhythm now. He sees it like an oncoming wave that’s his to jump into and get carried away by, and he kisses him back, matching him for every movement because he might not know how to do this, but he does know how to match him. 

They’ll be hero partners one day, he’s sure of it. Shouto always thought he was supposed to do it all on his own, but he likes fighting with him. He likes teaming up with him. He likes being with him, and now he knows without a doubt that he likes kissing him.

He never wants to stop.

Katsuki’s hands drag through his hair, and Shouto’s head rolls back, following the movement before he can think that this will stop the kiss, but Katsuki follows him, pressing his open mouth to his throat, and Shouto’s eyes flutter as his chest fills too quickly with air.

He pushes him, and Shouto falls back on his back, and when Katsuki moves over him, he finds himself reaching to get him closer.

He knows he’s too rigid, stiff and boring and wrong, and Shouto’s never been bad at anything. He’s supposed to excel, to be leagues ahead of the rest, and here he might as well be starting from zero.

He is starting from zero.

“Ba–,” he blurts out before snapping his mouth shut.

Katsuki pushes himself up and looks down at him.

“What,” he pants. “Too much?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says, face flashing hot as he admits it out loud. He sees now why everyone says he’s too honest. Maybe he is.

“You wanna stop?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I just don’t know how– what am I supposed to do?”

Katsuki laughs, and Shouto sees his mouth widen into a smile. “The fuck should I know?”

“You do know,” he says. “You’ve kissed someone before.”

Katsuki groans and drops his face down on Shouto’s chest. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh god, I wanna die.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–.”

“One time,” he says. “I was like twelve, and this girl in my class had a crush on me, and everyone kept saying we had to, and they wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone about it, and it was like a one and done, and she bolted, like straight up ran away, and can we never bring that shit up again, I swear to god.”

Shouto blinks up at the ceiling. “Oh.”

“Fuck.”

“I thought you–.”

“No,” he says into his shirt. “Don’t say anything else.”

“Bakugou?”

“I said don’t say anything.”

“Was this better than that was?”

Katsuki pushes himself back up just to glare down at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly or not, and you seem to be better at it than I am.”

“That’s because I’m better at you than everything, loser,” he says, and Shouto squints. He lowers himself just enough to hover over Shouto’s mouth, and Shouto can’t stop himself from pushing himself up the rest of the way, even if he is irritated with him and stressed about his abilities. But this time the kiss is soft, easy, something he can think about as he presses his lips against him, and he doesn’t feel like he’s toppling over. “Yeah, you’re doing it right, dumbass.”

Shouto takes his face in his lands, leading him back down to him until Katsuki’s body rests over his, and the warmth of him soaks into him down to the bone. His mouth is surprisingly sweet, he supposes from his quirk, and he can taste the faint trace of toothpaste leftover from before.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what,” he mutters against his lips.

“How would you know if what I’m doing is correct if that’s your only other comparison.”

“Because it feels good, idiot, shut up.”

Shouto smiles at that, pleased and amused, and his chest tightens at the thought that this could feel good for him, that it’s not just nice for Shouto.

“It does,” he says, and Katsuki hums a yes against his mouth, and Shouto runs his fingers through his spikes, hoping this feels like it did when he did it to him earlier, when Shouto forgot how to move.

He doesn’t ask this time. He doesn’t want this to stop again for anything, not even sleep. He could do this for hours, kissing him and being kissed, and he thinks that this must mean he’s lucky that his first time is with him and not someone he doesn’t want.

Because he does want him, doesn’t he?

Anyone would.

Anyone might.

Shouto isn’t sure he likes that.

He turns away just enough to get his attention, and Katsuki frowns down at him in confusion. “Are you going to kiss other people?”

Katsuki’s eyebrows raise in surprise before he laughs. “Who the fuck do you think I’m tryna make out with?”

“I can’t be the only person who wants to kiss you,” he says. “Statistically speaking, at least a third of our class should want to based on our general proximity, and considering the fact that by appearance you’re the most conventionally attractive person out of all of us if you only count the males, the potential number of people who would want to kiss you would multiply considerably any time we interact with the other classes, as long as you’re not provoking them to violence.”

“I’m the one who’s gotta tell your fanboys to fuck off, and you’re worried about people wanting to kiss me.”

“Yes.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I’m–,” he starts before he’s cut off in the one way he’s decided he likes. Katsuki’s lips spread over his, first claiming and then giving, and Shouto feels it all the way into his toes.

He winds his arms around his neck, and Katsuki hums slightly, low and involuntary, and Shouto isn’t sure how to use his tongue here yet, but he repeats the swipe Katsuki did earlier, an experimental kitten lick that immediately has him pressed down deeper into the mattress.

He likes this more than he ever thought he would, and now as he learns what he’s supposed to do, heat spreads through his chest, and every inch of his body buzzes beneath the surface. It’s taking all of his concentration not to light the bed on fire.

“Shit, I gotta move,” Katsuki says suddenly.

“Why?”

“My arm hurts.”

“Oh, alright,” he says, and Katsuki tilts over onto his side, and Shouto moves so he can have half of the pillow again.

They’re closer now than they were when Shouto first got into bed. Katsuki’s hand rests on his hip, and Shouto’s leg is hooked over his, and where before Shouto kept his hands close to his chest, now he can’t help but tug at the shirt in front of him, this new wave of energy something he isn’t quite sure how to contain.

It’s all so exciting.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.“

“Fuckin’ loser,” he says, but he inches closer anyway, and Shouto is happy.

“I do think I like pajama parties.”

“This isn’t a fucking pajama party.“

“We’re in our pajamas, and you invited me to stay over for the night. Doesn't that mean this is a pajama party?”

Katsuki groans in annoyance and rolls over to bury his face in the pillow, and Shouto smiles to himself.

“I do think we should do this once a week.”

Katsuki jerks his head up at that. “Once a week?”

“Yes, I heard Mina say she used to do this with her friends on the weekend while she was in middle school,” Shouto says.

“You’ve been in here every night for the last two months, dumbass. What? Am I supposed to kick you out the other six?”

“No, I don’t think I would like that.”

Katsuki exhales and lies back down. “Go to sleep. I wanna kick your ass tomorrow.”

“Your gauntlet is being repaired.”

“I meant no quirks.

“Oh,” Shouto says, excited by the prospect. “Yes, we should train together.”

“Mm.”

“Do any of my sister’s recipes have anything good for breakfast?”

“Go to sleep, asshole.”

Shouto smiles to himself and closes his eyes. Yes, this pajama party was a good idea. He’ll have to thank Hagakure for hosting it later.