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Of all the ways dating Katsuki changed Eijirou’s life, the one that really shouldn’t have surprised him was the fact that he was now held responsible for Katsuki when the blond was being difficult. He had been, sort of, before they started dating since he was the resident best friend to the asocial grump, but at the same time people were willing to let Kaminari try, or Sero, or even one of the girls if they were nearby. Katsuki may have been a little nicer to Eijirou, but he didn’t bite off any of their heads immediately either.
But now, it was like they didn’t even try.
“Kirishima!” Jirou called, completely disregarding the heavy boxes in his arms and the fact that he was currently busy. Not the type to ignore his friends, especially when they had that sort of harried tone to their voice, he turned around to face her. She looked like she was at the end of her rope; her eyebrows were drawn tight together, a muscle in her jaw was twitching, and her shoulders were pulled back and tight as if she was seconds away from hitting something and only her strenuous grasp on her composure was stopping her.
Jirou was not the type to get this angry (although she had been this annoyed many times before) but that was okay. Eijirou knew angry, he could do angry. He was dating the human embodiment of anger, after all.
He smiled in that calming way that always manage to loosen Katsuki’s shoulders a bit, and was pleased to see the pinched expression on Jirou’s face relax just the tiniest amount; he hadn’t expected her to be as amenable to his wiles as his boyfriend was, but it was nice to know his smiling was helping her mood just a little bit.
“Jirou! What’s up?”
“I need you to get Bakugou to put his shirt on.”
“Um,” Eijirou blinked, mind momentarily derailed by the mental image that flashed in his head. “Why is his shirt off?”
“No, I mean,” She made a frustrated noise and crossed her arms, the disapproving look on her face telling Eijirou that he may have not been subtle about where his mind had gone. “His band shirt. He won’t put it on.”
“Well,” Eijirou shifted the boxes in his hands, glancing over to where the other techies were trying to finish set up. “Can it wait a second?”
“Kirishima, please, ” She begged, taking a step closer towards him and clasping her hands together. “I have to calm down Momo and Kaminari, can you please just get your boyfriend to wear the stupid shirt?”
Kirishima knew he had other responsibilities, but how could he say no to the desperation in Jirou’s eyes? And, honestly, he had experience trying to juggle both Kaminari and Bakugou and it was just never a very fun experience. With a sigh, he placed the boxes he was holding on the floor, carefully pushing them out of the path, and then looked back up at Jirou, hands on his hips.
“Where is he?”
He had somehow managed to miss Katsuki’s presence so far that morning, so seeing his boyfriend - who tended to wear nothing but t-shirts and tank tops; not that Eijirou was complaining - in a fitted black button down completely blindsided him. Jirou looked at the expression on his face once and then sighed, throwing her hands in the air and saying she had some other idiots to deal with. Eijirou had just nodded, too distracted by way the dark fabric hugged Katsuki’s muscular shoulders and draped down his waist. He was fidgeting with his cuffs, cursing at something under his breath and glowering at the drumsticks in his free hand. Katsuki didn’t have the prettiest expression on his face right that second, but all Eijirou could think about was how wholeheartedly he loved this man.
Katsuki seemed to finally register Eijirou’s presence and he looked his way, frowning momentarily at the class 1-A t-shirt that clad the redhead’s body, but his expression softened when their eyes actually met. He was still scowling, but Eijirou had known him long enough to see the difference between his upset scowling and his idle scowling.
“Why are you wearing that?” Katsuki beat Eijirou to the punch. He looked down at his chest and pulled the fabric away from his torso, admiring the A that covered his chest. The shirts were the school colors and were fairly simple and inoffensive; he was proud to be a member on 1-A! Why wouldn’t he wear the shirt?
Katsuki scoffed when he voiced that sentiment, but his expression looked more amused and affectionate than mocking. He held out one of his hands, making a vague grabby motion that didn’t look entirely conscious, and Eijirou stepped closer to him, recognizing the gesture for what it was. Once he was within arms reach, Katsuki cupped his jaw and brought their lips together.
It wasn’t their first kiss - far from it, actually - but Eijirou still felt the same electricity shoot out from where Katsuki’s skin met his, racing down his body and making his heart flip. He melted into his boyfriend, and he was glad that they were alone in the room because some part of him otherwise would be embarrassed by that fact. He was fond of affection, and that really wasn’t a surprise to anyone who knew him, but around Katsuki he was down right needy.
“You look ridiculous as fuck,” Katsuki said when he pulled away, and Eijirou pouted at the fact that he had to immediately ruin the moment.
“It isn’t that bad of a shirt,” He protested. Katsuki rolled his eyes, clearly disagreeing, and stepped out of Eijirou’s reach. His pout only deepened.
“Did Shorty ask you to make me put it on?” He asked, because he wasn’t stupid. Eijirou nodded, because lying to Katsuki was the quickest way to make sure he’d do the exact opposite of what you wanted. He rolled his eyes.
“It’s just a shirt babe, everyone else is wearing it,” Eijirou said, although it was more to feel out Katsuki and his objects to the shirt than to actually convince him of anything.
“ Exactly.” Katsuki said, sounding vaguely disgusted. Eijirou couldn’t help but snort at his tone, and the blond glared at him. “Why the hell would I want to look like all of you losers?”
“Katsuki,’ Eijirou said, his tone reprimanding. His boyfriend rolled his eyes and looked away.
“Come on, you’re doing this for the class, right?” Eijirou asked, reaching out to lay his hand on Katsuki’s bicep, appreciating the way it flexed under his fingers. Katsuki made a disgruntled noise, his eyes trained on the wall in front of him.
“I’m doing this to kill those bitchass students with -”
“Your sound, yeah, yeah, that’s what you tell everyone,” Eijirou said, waving his other hand in the air as if to push away the words. “But, come on, it’s me. I know it isn’t about that.”
Katsuki sighed after a second, and Eijirou slid his hand from his arm to his back, rubbing small circles into the tense muscles he found there. He leaned forward and kissed the blond’s cheek, knowing that not denying the truth was as difficult for him as admitting to it.
“So what of it?” Katsuki eventually asked, still not looking at him.
“Well, if it’s for 1-A, don’t you want to look the part? Instead of you blowing people away with our class’s sound, everybody is going to be distracted by you. Kinda defeats the purpose, right?” Katsuki continued to not look at him, but a muscle in his cheek twitched and he cast his eyes downward. Eijirou continued to watch his boyfriend’s profile, watching his resolve crumble. He most of been closer to giving in before Eijirou even got here, if it only took this little bit of urging to get him this far.
“Come on,” Eijirou said, pushing just a little bit further. “For me?”
Katsuki glanced at him and then sighed dramatically. He shook Eijirou’s arm off and stomped over to where his shirt had been discarded to the side, dropping his drumsticks carelessly on the floor. He didn’t bother changing out of the button up, just shoved the T-shirt on over his head, tucking in the tails and rolling the sleeves up so he didn’t look silly. Grumpy, he turned back towards Eijirou and held his arms out, scowling.
“Are you fucking happy?” He asked, sounding extremely put out. Eijirou grinned at him, which made Katsuki’s frown twitch just slightly.
“Extremely,” He confirmed, stepping closer and tilting his head up for another kiss. Katsuki stilled, indecision playing over his face, and Eijirou wondered if he was considering whether or not a kiss was worth giving in completely. He quirked an eyebrow, angling his head to the side just slightly, encouraging him just a little bit. Katsuki’s eyes dropped to his lips, and then after a second he breathed out an aggravated breath and kissed him.
Eijirou hummed happily and wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck. He lost himself in the warmth of his boyfriend’s body, in the sensation of lips that knew their way around his, on the way Katsuki’s wide hands felt spread across his back. There was something about them that just seemed to fit together perfectly and the only other time it felt more obvious was when they fought together. Sure Eijirou was just a teenager and teenagers were prone to thinking silly and sappy thoughts, but there was no denying that it felt like the two of them were made for each other.
“Woah I did not need to see that today,” Sero complained, and Katsuki pulled away to glare at him. Eijirou couldn’t help but grin at the exasperation in their friend’s voice, not even that put out about being interrupted.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki growled. Sero didn’t look particularly fazed.
“When you’re done making out, you have boxes to be carrying Kirishima,” Sero drawled, sounding bored, and Eijirou suddenly remembered what he had been doing before Katsuki distracted him.
“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, untangling himself from Katsuki. The blond let him go reluctantly and went back to glowering at everything. He stooped to pick up the drumsticks, and when he straightened Eijirou offered him a smile.
“I’ll be rooting you on, good luck!” He said, and Katsuki’s lips twitched just slightly.
“Whatever,” He mumbled, and Eijirou heard the ‘I appreciate it’ in his tone. He bumped his fists together in encouragement and then ran off, following behind Sero to finish their set up. Later, when he caught a glance of the band all together in their matching T-shirts, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the matching shirts.