Chapter Text
The day of the movie arrived far sooner than you expected. For the past week, the invitation had lingered quietly in the back of your mind.
It wasn't a date. You reminded yourself of that while standing in front of your closet. It was simply two neighbors going to see a movie together. Friends did that. It was perfectly normal.
So why had you changed clothes three separate times?
You frowned at your reflection before pulling another sweater over your head. You looked comfortable, casual. Not at all like you were overthinking things and trying too hard.
Satisfied enough, you stepped away from the mirror and glanced toward the clock. You still had plenty of time. Too much time, apparently.
The apartment felt strangely quiet. Normally, your evenings were filled with work, cooking, or settling in with a television show before bed. Today, however, every task seemed to finish faster than usual.
You tidied your kitchen despite it already being clean, watered the lone plant sitting near the window, checked your phone just to see nothing, and then only a few minutes later you checked it again just to see nothing.
You laughed quietly to yourself.
"I'm being ridiculous."
Downstairs, Katsuki wasn't doing much better. He'd already decided what he was wearing. Then changed his mind. Twice.
It wasn’t because he cared. Obviously. It was just a movie. He eventually settled on a dark sweatshirt and jeans before convincing himself he'd wasted enough time already.
His apartment was spotless. There was nothing left to straighten, nothing left to do. His eyes drifted toward the clock. Five minutes.
"Tch." He scoffed.
He wasn't going upstairs five minutes early. That looked desperate. Absolutely not. Instead he leaned against the kitchen counter with folded arms, staring at absolutely nothing.
The silence stretched for a moment before his phone buzzed.
You: Ready whenever you are.
A response was already typed before he could overthink it.
Katsuki: Coming up.
A knock sounded against your apartment door. You took a breath before opening it. Katsuki stood in the hallway with his hands shoved into his pockets. For a brief moment neither of you spoke, silence stretching between the two of them.
You'd seen each other almost every day recently. Usually one of you was tired from work, still in pajamas, covered in flour from cooking, or fresh off patrol.
This was different. Neither of you had anywhere else to be. Neither of you was rushing.
You found yourself noticing little things. His hair looked only slightly less wild than usual. One of the bruises from patrol had almost completely disappeared. He'd traded his combat boots for ordinary sneakers.
His red eyes flicked toward you. "You ready?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
He stepped aside so you could lock your apartment. The click of the deadbolt echoed quietly through the hallway. Then, without another word, the two of you headed downstairs together.
The walk to the theater was comfortable. The evening air had cooled enough that the sidewalks no longer radiated heat from the afternoon sun. The city had settled into that pleasant period between the end of the workday and the beginning of the late night rush. People filled the sidewalks.
You and Katsuki walked side by side. Not particularly close. Not particularly far apart. He naturally adjusted his pace whenever you slowed to avoid another pedestrian.
You noticed. He probably didn't.
The conversation drifted easily between topics. Work, television, a ridiculous news story one of your coworkers had shown you earlier that week.
Every now and then Katsuki let out a short laugh before immediately pretending he hadn't. You chose not to call him out on it.
The movie theater glowed brightly against the darkening sky. Colorful posters covered the front windows. The smell of buttered popcorn escaped every time the automatic doors slid open. Inside, the lobby buzzed with conversation.
You smiled. "I haven't been to a theater in forever."
"Hn." He acknowledged. Katsuki glanced around the lobby before nodding toward the ticket kiosks. "I already bought the tickets."
You blinked. "When?"
"A couple days ago."
"You what?"
"They would've sold out." He shrugs.
"I’ll pay you back."
"No."
"Katsuki—"
"No."
You sighed dramatically. "You know that's not how this works."
"It is today."
Before you could protest further, he had already started walking toward the concession stand.
"C'mon."
Rolling your eyes with an amused smile, you followed after him.
The line moved surprisingly quickly. Bright menu boards displayed every imaginable combination of popcorn, candy, and drinks. You reached for your wallet.
Katsuki noticed immediately. "No."
"I'm at least paying for snacks."
"No."
"You already bought the tickets."
"And?"
"And let me contribute."
"No."
The exchange earned a quiet laugh from the employee waiting to take your order.
The young cashier looked between the two of you with an amused smile. "It's always nice seeing couples argue over who pays."
Complete silence.
You and Katsuki looked at the cashier.
Then simultaneously—
"We're not—"
"We aren't—"
The words collided together.
The cashier blinked. "Oh."
Heat crept into your face. "We're neighbors," you explained a little too quickly.
"And friends."
"Right."
The cashier smiled politely. Whether they believed you or not was impossible to tell.
Katsuki cleared his throat. "We'll take the large popcorn."
"And two drinks," you added.
The cashier nodded while preparing everything. You noticed Katsuki quietly paying before you could even argue again. By the time the popcorn was handed over, he'd already pocketed his wallet.
"You know," you muttered while taking one of the drinks, "you're impossible."
"Uh huh."
"You know that's not a denial."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Despite yourself, you laughed.
The hallway leading toward your theater was noticeably quieter. People gradually filtered into different screening rooms until only a handful remained walking alongside you.
Katsuki carried the popcorn while you carried both drinks. Neither of you commented on how naturally the arrangement had happened.
Inside the theater, the lights had already dimmed. You found your seats halfway up the auditorium. The seats Katsuki had picked were perfect. You settled into your seat with a content sigh while Katsuki placed the popcorn between you.
The previews had already begun. Explosions filled the massive screen. Movie trailers flashed one after another. The room gradually quieted as more people found their seats.
You leaned back comfortably.
"This is nice."
Katsuki looked toward the screen.
"Mhmm." His response was quiet, almost absentminded. Like he hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.
The lights dimmed further. Conversation around the theater faded into whispers. The opening studio logos appeared across the enormous screen. Without thinking, both of you reached for the popcorn at exactly the same time. Your fingers brushed against each other inside the bucket.
Both of you froze for a moment then pulled your hands back.
"Sorry," you whispered.
He looked away. You couldn't tell whether that meant it's fine or don't worry about it. Probably both.
A few moments later, after pretending that hadn't happened, you cautiously reached back into the popcorn. This time your hands stayed safely on opposite sides of the bucket.
The movie began. Within ten minutes, it became very clear neither of you had expected it to be nearly as frightening as the trailers had suggested.
A tense silence settled across the theater. Every creaking floorboard echoed through the surround sound. Every shadow lingering on screen seemed to stretch just a little too long.
Beside you, Katsuki remained perfectly still. You, however, found yourself leaning forward without realizing it, eyes fixed on the screen, completely invested. The music suddenly stopped. Everything on screen went silent. Then, a loud crash erupted through the theater speakers.
You jumped. Not dramatically but just enough that your shoulder bumped lightly against Katsuki's arm. You straightened again.
"…Sorry."
Katsuki didn't look away from the screen.
"It's a horror movie." His voice remained calm like he’d expected that to happen.
You smiled sheepishly before settling back into your seat. The warmth lingering where your shoulder had brushed against his remained long after your attention returned to the screen.
By the time the credits began to roll, your nerves felt slightly frayed. Not enough to regret coming. Enough that you were acutely aware of every shadow in the room.
Katsuki, beside you, shifted once in his seat as people began standing and gathering their things. He looked… unbothered. As usual. As if the movie had been nothing more than mildly entertaining background noise. You, on the other hand, carefully avoided looking at any darkened aisle for too long.
The popcorn bucket was nearly empty. You weren’t entirely sure who had eaten more.
The lights slowly brightened across the theater, dragging everyone back into reality. Conversations rose again in soft waves as people stretched and reached for bags and jackets. You stood with a small exhale, rolling your shoulders as if that would shake off the last lingering tension from the film.
“Okay,” you muttered under your breath, mostly to yourself. “That was… a lot.”
Katsuki glanced at you briefly.
“Ehh.”
That was his entire review. It somehow made you feel slightly better and slightly annoyed at the same time.
You followed him down the aisle as people filtered out ahead of you. The carpet muffled footsteps again, the bright lobby light gradually growing closer with each step. Once you reached the open space outside the theater room, the noise of the building returned—arcade machines beeping, concession stand chatter, the rustle of wrappers and soda cups.
It felt normal again. Safer. You realized only then how much you’d been subtly leaning toward Katsuki during the movie’s more intense moments. You tried not to think about it too hard.
Outside, the night air had cooled further. The streets were darker now, the glow of storefront signs and streetlights stretching across pavement like painted reflections. The city felt quieter than earlier, though still alive in that late-evening way.
You walked beside Katsuki without needing to think about it. The same rhythm as before. Side by side.
A breeze moved through the street, tugging lightly at your clothes. You shivered faintly without meaning to. Katsuki noticed. He didn’t say anything, but he shifted slightly so he was walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, closer to the street. You glanced at him, surprised, but didn’t comment. Instead, you smiled quietly to yourself and kept walking.
The closer you got to your apartment building, the more the energy of the evening started to settle into something softer. Into quiet awareness. The kind that made conversation slow down naturally.
You and Katsuki still talked occasionally. Some small comments about the movie, a few critiques about pacing, a shared agreement that the sound design had been “unnecessarily loud.”
Eventually, your building came into view, warm light spilling from the entrance. The familiar shape of it grounding you after the unfamiliar tension of the film.
You slowed slightly as you reached the front steps. Katsuki stopped beside you. It wasn’t awkward. Just… unfinished. Like the night hadn’t decided whether it was over yet.
“Thanks,” you said finally.
Katsuki glanced down at you.
“For what?”
You gestured vaguely. “The movie. The snacks. Not letting me get murdered by whatever that thing was on screen.”
He scoffed. “Tch. It was just a movie.”
“Easy for you to say. You looked bored the whole time.”
“I was bored.”
“That’s not helpful.” You laughed softly. The sound lingered in the space between you.
Katsuki shifted his weight slightly. “I’ll walk you up.”
You blinked. “Oh— you don’t have to. I’m just right upstairs”
“I know.”
That shut down your argument. You just nodded. “Okay.”
The elevator ride was quiet. The kind of quiet that made you suddenly aware of how small enclosed spaces really were.
You stood on one side. Katsuki stood on the other side. Neither of you leaned against the walls. The numbers ticked upward slowly. Floor by floor.
When the doors finally opened, the hallway outside was dim and familiar. Home. You walked together down the corridor, your footsteps softened by the carpet. The familiar sound of your own apartment waiting just a few doors away felt strangely distant.
You stopped at your door. Katsuki stopped beside you. You unlocked the door but didn’t open it immediately.
“…Thanks for tonight,” you said again, quieter this time.
Katsuki gave a short nod.
“You’re welcome.”
You hesitated. There was something about the moment that felt like it should end cleanly. A simple goodbye.
Eventually, you cleared your throat softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
Then Katsuki turned slightly, not fully leaving yet.
“Don’t be an idiot and stay up too late.”
You smiled. “No promises.”
“Tch.”
That small sound again. There was no real irritation in it.
He finally turned to leave. You watched him walk a few steps down the hallway before unlocking your door and slipping inside. The quiet of your apartment greeted you immediately. The kind that felt heavier after a night spent in company.
You kicked off your shoes, set your keys down, and slowly made your way deeper inside. The movie still clung to your thoughts more than you expected. It wasn’t the plot or the scares but the feeling of sitting next to someone during it. The way your shoulder had brushed his. The way he hadn’t moved away.
You exhaled slowly. “It’s fine,”
It was just a movie. Just a night out. Just Katsuki Bakugo. Except sleep did not come easily. Your apartment, usually comfortable and familiar, suddenly felt too still. Every small sound seemed louder than it should be. The shadows in the corners of your room looked a little too similar to the ones from the movie. At some point, you turned on a small lamp just to make the space feel less empty. It didn’t help much.
Eventually, you gave up on pretending you were going to fall asleep naturally. You reached for your phone. Stared at it for a second before sending a text.
You: You up?
Downstairs, Katsuki’s phone lit up on his counter. He had just finished washing up. His hair slightly damp, shirt changed into something comfortable.
He glanced at the screen. Read the message. Then, without much delay:
Katsuki: Yeah.
The reply came faster than you expected. You stared at it for a second. Before you could overthink it, you tapped the call button. It rang twice. Then connected.
Katsuki’s face appeared on your screen a moment later. He looked mildly irritated.
“Hello?”
You exhaled in relief. “Good. Okay. I thought I was being dramatic.”
“You are. ”
“Yeah, I know. What do you want?”
A beat of silence passed. You adjusted your position on your bed, pulling the blanket up slightly.
“I can’t sleep,” you admitted quietly.
Katsuki glanced away from the camera briefly. “…Movie got to you?”
“Maybe but like only a little bit.”
He scoffed at your response. He didn’t hang up though.
You settled deeper into your pillow. The room still felt too quiet, but less empty now. On the screen, Katsuki leaned back slightly wherever he was sitting. The call stayed open without the pressure to talk constantly.
Eventually, your eyes grew heavier. Your breathing slowed. The tension from the movie faded bit by bit. At some point, Katsuki’s voice drifted through the speaker low, steady, and grounding. Even that faded into the background of your thoughts.
Your phone slipped slightly in your hand. The screen still glowed faintly. Katsuki watched as it fell. He didn't make any moves to end the call. Instead, he stayed. He stayed until your breathing evened out completely. Until the only sound left was quiet. And only then did he lower his own phone slightly, watching the steady rise and fall of your sleeping form on screen for a moment longer than necessary.
Then, finally he set his phone down gently. Neither of you bothered to hang up.