Archive of Our Own

Standing in front of his apartment door, in clean clothes that did little to soothe the ache in his jaw, Eijirou hurts .

His headache started at quarter to three, when he was first called to the scene of a building collapse. He was welcomed quickly into the fold and caught up to speed- there’s been a quirk enhancer making its way around the country, and a kid in the building that accidentally got their hands on it. 

A kid, an eight year old with a quirk called Tectonic Shift, who before today could only make the area she stood on shake a bit. 

She was now responsible for a three block wide evacuation, at least twenty two injured civilians, and no casualties. Yet. 

It made Eijirou sick to his stomach, and he might have actually growled at the officer briefing him before hurrying over to figure out where he could be most helpful. Controlling your quirk is a learned behavior that comes easier with age- he couldn’t imagine the sort of damage he might have done to himself or to the people around him had his own control at eight years old been stripped away. 

The scar on his eye felt heavier as he blinked at the debris. 

A sidekick he remembered vaguely from visiting the Ingenium agency was directing the heroes with the large neon signs she was conjuring above her head. She perked up when she saw Eijirou. 

“Red Riot!” she called to him. A red gear joined the CAUTION, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY sign above her grinning face.  “Just in time! There’s a couple of civilians in the basement still, alive and mostly uninjured. Uravity is on her way, but you should be able to get there safely!”

Eijirou slammed his fists together, smiling wide. He pushed past the discomfort he felt in his chest, knowing that there was a little girl around here that was certainly really, really scared. He was a hero, and a damn good one at that. “Thanks, Signpost! Let’s rock!”

Giving his statement afterward had only taken about twenty minutes, and he had been assured that most of the paperwork could be completed remotely tomorrow, but it’s still well past nightfall by the time he is finally, finally , standing in front of his apartment and aching all over. 

He makes it through the door, kicking off his shoes and feeling a childish burst of petulance at the idea of keeping the genkan tidy. He hadn’t even tied his left shoe completely before leaving the agency. 

Katsuki is in the kitchen, and Eijirou feels a wave of relief so strong his eyes prickle with tears. The air is heavy with the smell and warmth of curry on the stove and soft music playing from a speaker. It blankets his shoulders comfortingly. 

He doubles back to neaten up his shoes, right next to Katsuki’s, like they belong right next to each other. 

“Hey, Red.” Katsuki’s focus stays on the food in front of him, sparing Eijirou a two second glance- just long enough for Eijirou to catch the corners of his mouth soften as Katsuki takes in the sight of him, hale and uninjured.
“Hi, Blasty,” Eijirou says, collapsing immediately into one of the chairs placed along the kitchen island. He is so fucking tired. His forehead thunks on the marble ‘cause there is no energy left in him to remain sitting upright. 

“Food will be done in about fifteen minutes,” Eijirou feels Katsuki’s eyes on him again. His tone is playful and soft when he follows up with: “If you can stay awake long enough for it.”

A small huff of laughter falls way to a soft groan. “Don’t be cute, ‘Tsuki. I hurt too much to properly appreciate it.”

There’s a moment of quiet. Katsuki’s ears are probably all red and he is probably giving Eijirou one of those looks that he won’t explain and Eijirou won’t think about at all tonight, when they’re hidden away from the world and, too wrapped up in each other’s company to let things like doubt or insecurity or romantic feelings strain the air between them. He won’t think about it at all. Probably. 

And he can’t even look up to check if the blush he knows is eating away at Katsuki’s ears has nibbled its way to his neck, because Eijirou’s spine feels a little bit like a paper clip bent all out of shape. Fuck. 

The sound of Katsuki cooking resumes, and Eijirou sinks into the lovely familiarity. Everything hurts, but Katsuki is making him dinner. Not an inch of him isn’t sore, but Katsuki is quietly humming along to the song playing. It’s easy to doze off, his head pillowed in his arms and listening to the companionable existence of his favorite person. 

Towards the end of their third year, when Katsuki asked– well, he didn’t ask, he said “Shitty Hair, we’re looking at apartments this afternoon and if you don’t help, your room is gonna be the size of a cardboard box,” and Eijirou had responded with something clever like, “I’d be honored to get a cardboard box, man,” and Katsuki snorted and shoved at his shoulder– anyway, when Eijirou was politely and considerately asked to be Great Explosion Murder God DynaMight’s roommate, he had wondered what the differences in living one-on-one with Katsuki would be like. They had about two and a half years of dorm living to get used to existing next to each other, long afternoons spent studying- quiet laughing too late at night and breathing exercises even later, when nightmares or memories made sleep a far away thing. Eijirou already knew that Katsuki’s music taste was eclectic- that he liked grunge rock and opera in equal measure. He knew that Katsuki was relentless about cleaning his hands when cooked, careful about not letting any of his sweat even close to food he was serving to others. He knew all about the smell of the special detergent Katsuki and his mom had to use to strip the glycerin, he knew about the expensive shampoo Katsuki bought out of habit more than desire to keep his hair soft and sweet smelling. 

There’s a lot Eijirou already knew about Katsuki before it was just the two of them in their first, cramped little apartment that they would move out of as soon as their year long lease was up. He was pleased to learn more, gathering up information about him like Eijirou was a dragon in one of the many, many fantasy novels Katsuki was constantly adding to the bookshelves in their living room, the blond’s habits and likes and dislikes being his favorite treasure to hoard. 

Six years later, DynaMight and Red Riot were beloved by the public, and Katsuki was beloved by Eijirou in every conceivable way. And probably some of the inconceivable ways too, ‘cause Katsuki was always there to remind Eijirou that he could do more. 

A distant clattering of dishes rouses Eijirou, who blinks blearily as he picks his head up. There’s an apologetic twist to Katsuki’s lips. He looks slightly smudged in Eijirou’s vision, so he tries blinking again. 

“Fuck- was trying to keep quiet. Sorry, Red,” he says softly and puts a plate in front of him. 

Aw, man. Eijirou is so in love. 

He swallows a confession and smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Katsuki says, another plate in his hand as he walks around the island to sit down. Of course. It bounces around Eijirou’s skull like an overstretched rubber band. Of course. 

Eijirou takes slow bites. It’s delicious. Katsuki never does anything halfway. 

“Saw you on the news,” Katsuki tells him. “A fucking building fell on you, and here you are. You did good.” 

“I went Unbreakable for an hour and thirteen minutes today.” He focuses on chewing his last bite. “Without pausing.”

Katsuki lets out a measured, collected breath. It hits Eijirou’s left wrist. Goosebumps rise. 

“Fuck, Ei.” He laughs under his breath. “You’re so fucking strong.”

Eijirou gives in, lets his head sag and pillow onto Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki doesn’t flinch or shift- like he was ready to support Eijirou’s weight this whole time. Like he was just waiting for Eijirou to meet him. 

Katsuki’s hand rubs soothingly along Eijirou’s paper clip spine, which regretfully hasn’t started feeling any less like a paper clip. 

He maybe whines a little bit as his pillow decides to reposition him to lean back against the island. Katsuki laughs and calls him a big baby. Then he’s collecting the dishes and dutifully rinsing them off in the sink. 

“I’ll clean those,” Eijirou promises, and Katsuki laughs out loud, his shoulders pulling up to his ears while he scrubs. 

“You have been plenty fucking chivalrous today, I can take care of some dishes.” Katsuki turns and smiles at him all tender, and it makes Eijirou’s chest all gooey and turns his brain to syrup, just sweet and sticky and trickling down his spinal cord. He’ll miss his brain, but it’s worth it to have Katsuki look at him like that. 

“Okay,” he says and wonders if his best friend can hear I love you so fucking much, man in between the syllables. 

Katsuki starts humming again as he finishes up cleaning up their dinner. Then he’s drying his hands and walking around to Eijirou and reaching out so he can slump into his arms. 

“Am I taking you right to bed? ” Katsuki asks, and a dozen responses like you could take me right to bed any day bubble up on Eijirou’s tongue, his usual brain to mouth filter loosened so terribly by his overtired bones. Wisely, he hums into the collar of Katsuki’s sweater instead, who wriggles at the non-answer. He feels a pat on his shoulder. “I’m taking that as a ‘please Katsuki, you’re the best hero around and I need you to safely shepard me back to my room.’” 

Eijirou laughs onto Katsuki’s neck. He’s not sure why he’s expected to make conversation when he’s this tired and all he can smell and feel is Katsuki’s warmth beneath him. Pretty ridiculous to ask of him, if he’s being honest. 

Against all odds he manages to pull himself upright- or as upright as he can get. He’s got a solid head of height on Katsuki usually, but his bones are rapidly turning to goo. He knocks his forehead lightly on Katsuki’s. 

“I need a bath,” he says- whines. Katsuki’s hands tighten their hold on his waist for a moment and the pressure is- it’s nice. It’s always nice to have Katsuki’s hands on him. “I held Unbreakable for so long today and if I go straight to bed-“

“You won’t move at all tomorrow, I know, I know.” Katsuki purses his lips and it's only a little distracting. Wow, Eijirou is out of it- he’s normally a lot better at keeping his non-platonic thoughts tucked away in the far recesses of his brain, where they are safely out from under the view of Katsuki’s observant eyes. “Let’s get you into the bath, yea?” 

Eijirou plods after him, sounds and sights increasingly distant. He can hear the tub getting filled and the room slowly starts filling with steam and the scent of the oils Katsuki is kindly adding to the water. He turns to face Eijirou, and is rendered quite beautiful in the soft light of their shared bathroom, barefoot in sweatpants and an old t-shirt that hangs off his shoulders just enough to let Eijirou know it definitely used to reside in his own closet. He doesn’t mind- Katsuki had proven to be a clothes thief a quarter into their second year, when Eijirou had finally located his missing limited edition Crimson Riot sweatshirt shoved under Katsuki’s pillow. It was stupidly endearing, and he had resigned himself to a life of shared custody of his favorite clothes. 

“Where’d your sweater go?” Eijirou asks, face scrunching as he scrabbles at his shirt hem, his fingers just not quite moving the way he expects them to. 

“Jesus, Ei, you are out of it.” Katsuki swats his hands away and helps divest Eijirou of his shirt. How sweet of him. “Not sure I should let you get in the tub- you’ll probably just drown yourself.”
Eijirou snorts and moves to step out of his shorts. Katsuki looks back towards the tub like he hasn’t seen Eijirou naked a million times before, like he’s concerned for his modesty or something silly like that. Eijirou had showered quickly at the agency to remove the dust and sweat and grime that had settled on the lines of his hardening, so he decides to just move directly into the tub without rinsing off. He looks back at Katsuki with a grin. 

“I won’t drown, man! You wouldn’t let me.” It comes out a little more sincere than the lighthearted tone he was going for, but Katsuki rolls his eyes fondly at him anyway. 

Eijirou puts one foot in the tub and he can’t help the groan that shudders its way out of his chest. A bath was definitely the right call.
“Holy f-fuck,” he says, eyes slipping shut of their own volition as he lowers his body down. “I wanna marry this fucking tub. Can I marry this tub, Kat?” After a moment of silence, he cracks one eye open to see Katsuki holding Eijirou’s shirt in a death grip, his ears red and eyes fixed pointedly on the ceiling. Eijirou laughs, resting one arm on the edge of the tub and smiling lopsidedly after perching his chin. “Mind out of the gutter, man, I’m terribly vulnerable right now.”

Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out heavily. “You,” he says, glaring at Eijirou, “are so fucking stupid,” but his shoulders are loose and there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, so Eijirou laughs at him and relaxes back into the tub fully. He tries to keep an eye open to watch Katsuki gather up his discarded clothes and fold them neatly, but the bath is too relaxing. His eyes slip shut. 

“I’ll be right back,” he hears from the door. “Don’t fucking drown.”

Too tired to laugh, Eijirou just hums agreeably. Katsuki’s footsteps go quiet as he walks out, and he can hear the faint sounds of doors opening and closing. He focuses on not slipping any further into the water, on the gradual, gentle loosening of his joints. He takes a moment to feel wholly and truly grateful for his strength, for his training, for his own sturdiness. It took a long while to fully appreciate his own power, his quirk, and there’s a small ember of pride that sits in his chest that sounds a lot like someone calling him stupidly strong.

His mind quiets when Katsuki is opening the door again, holding a pair of soft-looking sweatpants in one hand and a book in the other. Eijirou recognizes the dog eared, worn copy of The Two Towers that Katsuki had lent him when Eijirou had declared some months ago that before their annual Lord of the Rings Marathon, he was gonna actually read the books. Eijirou was not a particularly fast nor avid reader, but he liked being able to ask Katsuki questions about Middle Earth and watch a light flicker up in his eyes, passionately explaining the intricacies of old dwarven history with a fervor typically reserved for All Might and really, really spicy food. 

“I can’t read in the bath, man- I don’t wanna get your book all wet and I don’t think my eyes are able to take in anymore words today. I had to fill out so much fuckin’ paperwork. I’m all worded out.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and walks over to the tub, first crouching so he could lean forward and flick Eijirou on the forehead- ow- and then turning around so he could lean his back up against the tub. 

“Dumbass, you’re not reading. I am. Focus on soaking.” He looks over his shoulder to smirk at Eijirou. “And not drowning.”

It’s a shame that Eijirou is too tired to actually propose. Also he doesn’t have a ring. Also they aren’t in a relationship. 

“You love me so bad,” he settles on instead, teasing. “You love me sooo bad, Blasty.”

He expects another eyeroll. Instead Katsuki just looks away, eyes and mouth all soft. “Yeah,” he says, tender. 

Then he clears his throat and cracks open the book to where Eijirou was using a grocery store receipt as a bookmark. 

His voice is low, a little gravelly, and rasps perfectly. It soothes the parts of Eijirou that the heat and the water can’t reach, and he loses himself in the pretty words and the fact that Katsuki does voices for each character. He stays quiet, focuses on keeping his head above the water, and occasionally murmurs wassat mean and Katsuki will pause to explain the reference or tell him to wait a minute, it’ll make sense in a moment . 

It’s perfect, and eventually the bath cools from nerve-tinglingly hot to moderately lukewarm. Eijirou’s questions peter off, and eventually Katsuki looks back over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of a pretty monologue about glittering caves. 

“Ready?” 

Eijirou nods, only mildly dreading having to stand. 

It’s a burden made so much lighter, ‘cause he knows Katsuki will help him stand. 

It is a slightly ungainly affair, and Katsuki’s shirt gets drenched in the process, but soon Eijirou is standing (leaning against the wall) and drying himself off with a towel (aimlessly patting himself). 

“You have a nice reading voice,” he tells Katsuki, who has his arms crossed and is once again averting his gaze when Eijirou steps into his sweatpants. 

“I have a nice everything,” he replies reflexively. Eijirou laughs, and stands in front of Katsuki. There’s dark handprints on the shoulders of his shirt from where he helped Eijirou out of the bath and- fuck, he doesn’t know what he would do without him. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he says, ‘cause he had a long fucking day and Katsuki should know this. 

Katsuki blinks, his expression blank- save for the fond light in his eyes. 

“I thought we already went over this. You’d drown.” His voice is- fuck, there’s something there. Eijirou wants to dig in and ask what that is, tell me what you’re thinking, why does your voice sound like this around me, tell me, tell me, tell me. 

“I’m glad I didn’t,” he says instead. Katsuki blinks up at him again. 

“You’d be fine without me.”

“I don’t wanna be without you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Ei.”

“You like it when I’m an idiot.”

“The bleach fumes from redoing your roots have finally gone to my head, my taste is clearly fucked.”

Later, when Mina excitedly knocks over her coffee cup and sends the drink directly into Denki’s lap and demands to know who finally made the first move, Eijirou will grin and shake his head. Hanta will ruffle Katsuki’s hair and Kyouka will bat his hands away before pinching his cheek. 

Truth is, they move like they have since that first charge against Kurogiri at USJ. An unspoken understanding of simply putting their bodies together. 

They kiss for the first time in their slightly damp bathroom, with Eijirou’s wet handprints still on the shoulders of Katsuki’s stolen shirt, with Eijirou putting his hands on Katsuki’s waist, with Katsuki reaching up to brush his hair out of the way. It’s little more than a gentle press of lips against lips but that’s enough. It’s Eijirou and Katsuki, and that’s enough. 

“Stop smiling,” Katsuki says against his mouth, like Eijirou can’t feel a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “‘M trying to kiss you.” 

“Can’t help it,” Eijirou tells him, and it feels honest and silly and like something is popping in his chest. He kisses him again, cause he can. He pulls away just enough to come back and knock his forehead against Katsuki’s. “Take me to bed.”

Katsuki pulls back to look at Eijirou, unimpressed. His gaze flickers down Eijirou’s body, where his hands still lay on his waist, to the scars on his chest, back up to the tired slump of his shoulders. There’s a flash of interest there before he carefully schools his face back to impassiveness. Eijirou, with all the self restraint in the world, does not victoriously pump his fist in the air beside them. 

“We are not having sex tonight, Red.”

Eijirou laughs at him again, and Katsuki’s expression goes all soft and gooey again, which in turn makes Eijirou’s insides all soft and gooey. Just two soft and gooey dudes hanging out, which is a silly enough thought that Eijirou keeps laughing as he says, “I know, man. Kinda flattering you’re thinkin’ about that, honestly, but- no, I just have to sleep. I’m really, really tired.”

Katsuki hums in understanding. One of his hands is still up by Eijirou’s hairline, and he traces the marks that Unbreakable always leaves on his forehead. 

“Let me sleep with you,” he says, and Eijirou kisses the corner of his mouth. 

They sleep in Katsuki’s room, which they’ve done a billion times before, and they don’t have to ask which side the other prefers, and they find each other under the covers with tangled up legs and arms and fingers and there’s a moment where Eijirou thinks wow, it is so easy to be in love with him.

“I love you,” Katsuki tells him, after they settle with blond hair all pressed flat against Eijirou’s chest. He’s looking at their held hands when he says it, but he twists his neck around so he can press a kiss to Eijirou’s jaw before nestling his head back down. 

There is a part of him that knows in the morning they will have to talk it out- they’ve been a unit, a team , for so long, and this is a pretty significant shift in the way they have been defining their relationship for the better part of the last decade, and yet.

There is no fear, no anxiety in the comforting weight of having Katsuki in his arms. There is no room for worry in this space, even if this is Eijirou’s most precious secret, his most indulgent dream made into dizzying reality. Eijirou trusts Katsuki with his life, his body, his heart. It’s exhilarating, knowing that Katsuki is trusting him in all those ways too. 

“I love you too,” he doesn’t whisper it, letting it hang over them like one more blanket for their cozy nest. He can feel Katsuki smother a smile into his collarbone.  

Eijirou tugs him closer, and falls asleep listening to the soothing murmur of Katsuki breathing in his arms.