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The world is quiet outside when Katsuki wakes up in the early hours of the morning to the sound of his phone ringing. He growls as he snatches the offending object off the nightstand. Without looking at the caller ID, he snaps, “The fuck you want?”
A peppy voice comes from the other line, “Hey, bro! Sorry for waking you up, but I’m out of town and traffic is pretty bad this morning. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it on time for my shift. Can you cover for me?”
Sensing the inevitability of losing his day off, Katsuki groans. He almost wants to say no, but Kirishima has jumped in to take his shifts two times before when Katsuki couldn’t for one reason or another so he really has no excuse. “Fuckin’ fine.”
“Thanks, dude. You’re the best!” Kirishima exclaims over the blaring horns in the background. “I owe you one.” He actually doesn’t, but whatever.
Katsuki makes a move to get out of bed, but the arms around his torso and body pressed to his back refuse to budge, so he just ends up sliding through the sheets and dragging the dead weight along with him. He sits on the edge of the mattress and sighs, looking at the clock and noting he only has fifteen minutes to get ready, be out of the door, and actually at the agency to start patrol. As he rubs his eyes with one hand, he lets the other rest on the limbs still clutching to his hips.
Deku is still in a deep slumber, so Katsuki makes sure to be extra cautious when he untangles his arms from around him and tucks him back into bed.
It’s still early enough that the sunbeams haven’t even filtered through the blinds yet. Katsuki navigates his way in the dark and tries to find his hero suit and gear- he was absolutely certain they were left lying on a chair last night. In a meagre effort to find his socks in pitch blackness, he stubs his toe on something hard and bruising. The barest hint of a silhouette frames one of Deku’s weight training dumbbells lounging innocently on the floor as an accomplice.
“Shitting hell. Fuck, FUCK.”
“Kacchan, are you okay?” is the sleepy mumble he hears back. Heh, so much for staying quiet.
“I’m fine. Go the fuck back to sleep,” he yells at the slumped form on the bed.
Katsuki finishes getting ready and then only when he’s sure that Deku fell back asleep does he ruffle his curly locks and press a kiss to his forehead. He heads out of the door as stealthily as a Pro Hero can manage.
As Katsuki drags his belt up for the hundredth time that morning, he starts to wonder why he hasn’t noticed that his gear has been faulty before now. His hero costume is always in top shape and especially tailored to his size so why the hell is he having this problem?
His trousers keep slipping and it’s really starting to piss him off.
“Wardrobe malfunction?” Kaminari sympathises as he watches Katsuki unbuckle to try and tighten the hold.
“Mind your fucking business,” he chides, cursing under his breath as he realises that he’s already on the last gap in the garment. Dammit.
It’s only later on when he’s in action does he understand what has occurred. He goes to grab a grenade from his side pouch only to find a lone crumpled piece of paper inside. He flicks it open, mind already jumping to the obvious conclusion with unrestrained fury. No, he couldn’t have done that.
milk
eggs
Kacchan’s special spicy noodles (the orange packet with five chili peppers)
toilet paper.
Is this… a shopping list? Hold the fuck on.
“DEKUUU!”
Izuku stirs in his sleep at the sound of a solid-something vibrating on wood.
He moans as he goes to grab whatever’s buzzing on his nightstand, only to watch it get knocked off and land on the ground.
“Ugh.” It’s one of those mornings. Shuffling to the side of the bed, he searches the floor with an extended arm, whooping internally when he catches the device between his fingers, successfully stopping its reign of noise-making and disruption. When the bright light of his phone hits his face, his eyes weep in discomfort, but he pushes through and squints to see who’s calling.
His eyes snap open and he feels a bit more awake upon seeing the name. “Good morning, Kacchan,” he greets the other man on the line, easily in a better mood.
What he didn’t account for was deafening inhuman screeching blasting through the speakers and attacking his poor defenseless eardrums. He sits up immediately at the intrusion and puts the phone at a safe distance away. Why is Kacchnan so distressed? What happened? He can’t make sense of what he’s saying.
“An emergency? Belt? You forgot your belt? What’s holding your pants up, then? Um, okay, nevermind. You’re right- it doesn’t matter. I’m coming.”
Deku sprints out of bed and goes to grab his shoes and jacket, sleepiness forgotten. He needs to hurry.
Kacchan needs him.
Relief washes over Katsuki upon spotting that familiar green head on the roadside.
He got here faster than he expected. Deku’s face lights up the moment he sees him walking towards him, and Kastuki tries not to let it get to his head. “I got Kacchan’s belt,” he announces, flaunting the orange straps in the air. A few heads turn to look at them.
“Try it a little louder, Deku. I don’t think they heard you two cities over.”
Katsuki grabs the belt and tries not to mull over how Deku looks like he just rolled out of bed, because that’s most likely what happened. His hair is a tousled mess, sticking in every direction and he’s still wearing pyjamas under his jacket accompanied with his signature red shoes, left untied. Katsuki grimaces, and wonders if the nerd even had a chance to have breakfast or brush his teeth.
He starts changing into his actual hero gear against the side of the wall when Deku snaps out of his sleep-induced reverie. He seems flustered when he says, “I’ll cover you.” The flaps of his jacket are extended to either side of him as he stands between Katsuki and the crowd, face determined despite his sluggish state.
Nerd.
Deku yawns as he waits for him to adjust his thigh straps, freckles stretching on his cheeks with the lines of his eyes scrunched up.
Katsuki starts to feel…what’s the word…guilty? He just dragged Deku out of bed at the crack of dawn on his day off because he couldn’t go through the rest of the shift with saggy trousers, and the nerd just happily complied. Like that was the easiest thing to do. Like he’s just waiting for the chance to do something for Katsuki. He can’t with him. He’s so ridiculously amazing at being a boyfriend that he makes it so fucking hard for Katsuki. How in the shitting hell is he supposed to compete against that?
“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight, okay, so be ready at seven.”
He looks anywhere but at Deku’s eyes because they light up like fucking fireworks, and it’s just too stupid to watch. When was the last time they went out on a date anyways?
“Okay,” he responds and Katsuki can hear the smile in his voice.
“Yo, dude, what are you doing over there? Breaktime is almost over,” Sero calls over, and before he gets a chance to say anything, Deku is calling back, loud enough for everyone on the street to hear.
“He’s asking me out!” The glee in his tone is unmistakable and Katsuki wants to hide his face in the jacket currently smothering him when he hears an old lady coo as she walks by.
This nerd will be the end of him.
A strange, but not unwelcome, side effect of going out with Deku is his things making a home for themselves in Katsuki’s place. He’s incapable of turning a corner in his apartment without running into a trinket that reminds him of the nerd. Stray notebooks, an extra toothbrush, snacks he never eats lounging in his pantry, a green pair of All Might socks that’s clearly not his size, pyjama shirts littering his closet. He finds these little pieces of him everywhere, like sprouting weeds or animal fur. And at first it didn’t matter too much, until some of his things started mysteriously disappearing, and it was either because he left them at Deku’s place, or they were ‘borrowed’, which is a big fat lie, because his hoodie never fucking came back after he lent it to Deku. Point is, their belongings just started meshing up and mixing until they both had a little corner for each other in their homes, and Kastuki didn’t see an issue with that.
Well, that was before today.
He contemplates this as he swifts through apartment listings on his phone. They stay over at each other’s places so often, at this point, it might be easier to just move in together. At least that way he wouldn’t be caught sauntering around on patrol with Deku’s useless bulky belt.
And while Katsuki lays back on the sofa weighing the options, Deku is hopping from one place to the next in his flat, probably getting things ready for his workday tomorrow. They just had dinner, and the nerd decided to come back to his place like usual. He seems to do that a lot lately.
“Hey, Kacchan, can I borrow a razor?”
“They’re in the cupboard under the sink,” Katsuki replies without missing a beat. Scanning the rent prices, it seems to be a good time to be looking in the market.
“Thank you!” He needs to find something close to their agency, but still far enough from the heart of the city. Hm, maybe a place with a seaside view? What about-
“Kacchan, can I have an extra towel please?”
“Sure.” Katsuki feels a vein pop in his head. Deku is making it extremely hard to focus right now. Okay, so this property is already furnished, but the location is a bit more to his liking. The price, however, is way over the-
“Hey, Kacchan, there is this leftover-”
Katsuki is going to lose his mind.
“For fuck’s sake, Deku. We’ve been together for six months. Everything I own is fucking yours at this stage, so stop asking me shit already.”
It’s not like Katsuki himself has any reservations about using Deku’s things.
Katsuki feels a shadow loom over him, and he looks up from where his head is perched on the arm of the couch. Deku is hunched over, watching him intently. “Everything?” he asks, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. “Even these?”
And in a swift second, Deku hooks his fingers under Katsuki’s chin and pulls him into a kiss. It’s only a chaste press of lips, but he hums over the blond’s mouth, satisfied when he brings one hand to ruffle the back of his head.
Deku pulls away, smiling with eyes that glint a little too brightly, and says, “What about your 7th edition silver age All Might figurine? Is that mine too?”
Katsuki shoots up from his place and throws a glare in his direction. “Off limits. Know your place and keep your grubby fingers off my All Might merch.”
“Worth a try,” Deku chuckles as he makes himself comfortable next to Katsuki. He points at his phone screen with curiosity. “Hey, what are you looking at?”
“Apartments.”
The answer draws a confused look from Deku. “But yours is really nice. Why do you need a new one?”
“Not big enough for two people,” is Katsuki’s simple explanation. It’s true; his place is quite comfortable. For one person, at least. But even he can see how cramped it gets when Deku comes over. It’s not awful, but definitely not worth a long-term investment. Deku’s place is no better.
Katuski looks up to see Deku studying him, awfully quiet as he squints his eyes in his direction. He starts his next sentence carefully, eyebrows knitted in concentration, “Kacchan…are you planning to get a place with…one of your friends?”
Katsuki gives him a deadpan look, but Deku rattles on, “I mean, it will probably be nice to have a roommate. Kaminari and Kirishima had been very sad over their flatmate ditching them last minute so you can start there. Oh, this is an excellent chance to get a bigger kitchen. You have been complaining about the lack of space recently.”
Through Deku’s rambling, Katsuki searches his pocket and throws the item he was looking for in Deku’s direction. “Take this.”
“But this is the key to your place?”
“I got a spare set. This flat isn’t great, but it’ll do till we find something bigger. Also, your birthday’s coming up so you better take this weekend off.”
Silence. The equations currently floating above Deku’s head subside when the penny drops.
“Kacchan, are you…we’re moving in together?”
Katsuki doesn’t get a chance to answer the question, because the next thing he knows, a pair of muscular arms is wrapped around his throat, stealing the wind right out of his lungs. Deku has a strange way of showing his gratitude, but he guesses this isn’t all bad.
Time throws a blanket over dormant woes and makes them easy to forget.
Katsuki goes through most of his days without a single thought from back then crossing his mind. There were instances, way back, but not as far back as Katsuki would like, when he would be reminded of what he did every moment he laid eyes on him. Not anymore though.
That doesn’t mean those thoughts don’t linger around, because back then may be over and in the past, but that time is not never. Katsuki is not the same man he was in his youth -he changed- but that doesn’t mean he was never that person. Breaking away from his old shell certainly doesn’t erase the marks it left in its wake.
And, oh, wasn’t it so blindingly easy to forget?
Wasn’t it so convenient that he was able to move on and live a life unplagued by the footprints of his past actions?
In preparation for the move, he helps Deku pack away some of his things for storage and that’s when he comes across the notebook.
Tattered old pages, worn out from overuse, extreme heat, and being dunked in water. The margins have lost their shape, edges burned, and in a worse condition than the rest of the pile. The material is ashy and abused, and Katsuki wonders why Deku, who is particularly meticulous about keeping things he values in good shape, would leave his Hero Analysis Notebook in such a terrible state.
And, that’s when the memory of that day hits him like a fast-moving train, and he feels the inside of his stomach violently churn.
“Hey, Kacchan. I got us some snacks if you wanna take a break. Your favourite spicy chips and,” Deku pauses, stance going rigid. Katsuki meets his eyes and notes the concern riddled there immediately. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just dusty.” Katsuki makes a motion to wipe the dirt from his face, but really, it’s a guise to hide his reddened eyes. “Dammit, do you ever clean?”
Deku doesn’t look very convinced, but he’s not the type to press Katsuki’s buttons, so he drops the subject. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he offers one of his sweet smiles before leaving him with the piles of boxes surrounding him. Why does this room feel so small all of a sudden?
He feels choked by all the remnants chaining him to the past.
“We can do that.”
Deku points his chopsticks at the TV screen, then pulls his lower lip in thought before jumping in his place on the couch. “Yeah, I’m sure. We can totally pull it off.”
“Just because we can doesn’t mean we should,” Katsuki leans back, choosing to pick at his own food rather than watch the scene Deku seems so intrigued by. “I mean, why the hell? It looks disgusting.”
They’re sharing a takeaway dinner at their new apartment, because the kitchen has yet to be set up, and the place is a mess of boxes, wrapping paper, cardboard, and furniture in the wrong places. The chaos would normally rile Katsuki up and send him into a cleaning frenzy, but both him and Deku had been so busy these past few days that they had no energy but to navigate through the piles of junk littering the place. Katsuki didn’t expect moving to a new place to be so exhausting; there always seems to be something that needs taking care of and it’s never-ending.
He is not allowed to ponder this for long, because Deku is currently facing him and demanding his attention. He has one end of a noodle in his mouth and is extending the other end of it with his chopsticks to Katsuki. He hums encouragingly, “Pweash?”
Oh, fuck.
He’s actually serious.
Katsuki should really draw the line right here and now. Deku has gone too far if he thinks Katsuki can discard his dignity and attempt this clownery. If he doesn’t say something now, next thing he knows Deku will be asking him to do this crazy shit in public where everyone can see. And then he will ask to share a milkshake where they drink from two separate straws at the same time like heathens. Hell, no. This is basically just a grosser version of the pocky game.
Deku’s shoulders slump at the lack of reception, and he drops his food back in the box where it belongs. “It’s okay, Kacchan. I understand if you find it too hard. Not everyone is built for this sort of thing.”
“HAH, like hell. Gimme that egg noodle and strap up.” He huffs in indignation, turning to face Deku, who perks up a little too gleefully and goes back to the same position.
“Okay~”
The moment the tip of the noodle is in Katsuki’s mouth, he understands why his brain warned him about this being such a bad idea. Teriyaki sauce is dripping between, and he’s secretly glad they haven’t unpacked the couch from its wrapping yet. Deku doesn’t even give him much of a preamble or warning before he slurps. He’s suddenly in his personal space, nose less than an inch away, and Katsuki cannot for the life of him fathom why his face heats up in flames. He bites and pulls back to take a deep breath.
Why the fuck is he nervous? This is just Deku. They’ve kissed thousands of times before. The nerd should have no power over him whatsoever- He shouldn’t be able to make him flustered. What the fuck.
“Awwh, what a shame. It snapped too quickly. Lemme find a thicker one.” Deku seems unbothered by the outcome though, digging through his box with vigour. They both must be so drunk on fatigue if this is their entertainment for the night. He can’t remember the last time they did something unrelated to work or apartment hunting.
Deku waits expectantly for him again, and frankly, Katsuki is a fool if he thought he could resist this idiot for long. There is no need for persuasions this time, as he joins his partner in his shenanigans of choice this uneventful evening.
Katsuki tries really hard to ignore the smearing of the sauce on his lips when they meet. God, why are they doing this? Deku pecks him gently, only to pull back slightly and finish chewing his food and Katsuki does the same. It’s not long before they’re on each other’s mouths again.
It’s messy and wet, but not in a way he minds. He reaches over the back of Deku’s head to adjust his angle and slot more comfortably against him. He can feel the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks as he takes his time meshing their lips together.
“Mmm, Kacchan,” Deku mumbles before diving his tongue on the inside of blond’s teeth and pushing him flat on the couch. Hands under shirts and fingers threading through hair, the nerd above him sighs in contentment, and goes lax in his arms.
And despite the intimacy of the moment, their closeness, it’s in that instant that Katsuki becomes hyper aware of the bridge-wide gap he created to separate them, and it stings harder than a burn to the neck. This is possibly the worst time for these thoughts to rear their ugly head, but he can’t stop this massive wall from crashing. His mind is spiralling back to the old crusty notebook nested in one of these boxes decorating this place. Their place. Their home.
It’s the pain of a touch too gentle, a gaze too kind, and words too soft, that breaks him. A part of him wishes Deku despised him and loathed his very existence. A part of him was waiting for a punch to the face the day he apologised to him, was waiting to be banished away from his life forever. It would have been so much easier to withstand because he was content with the reality that he had it coming.
Not this though.
Not this compassion and affection and unyielding forgiveness reminding him of how much he doesn’t deserve him. And, what’s crueller is the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that he will never deserve him. That it doesn't matter what he does, he’d be daft to believe that it will ever be enough. That he will ever be enough. Deku can do so much better-
“Kacchan, why are you crying?” Deku is caressing his cheek with his thumb, eyes looking too wistful as he swipes at the wetness there.
It’s soothing in a way that twists his insides. Katsuki tries to slowly push him away, hoping the distance will placate the storm in his head. Deku remains unmoving in his place, refusing to back away.
“If it’s because I made you share my noodle, then I’m sorry. I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.”
Katsuki chokes back his laugh, “You’re such a fucking dork.” He reaches up to stroke Deku’s lower lip, exactly where the skin breaks because the nerd tends to bite a little too hard sometimes. “Just tell me next time instead of dumping Teriyaki sauce on our new sofa.”
Deku seems pleased at the ease in his demeanour because he sits up, pushes his sleeves up and puffs his chest. “Well, maybe it’s time we make some progress with these boxes and clean up. Whaddya say? Up for the challenge?” He slaps the muscles on his biceps in what Katsuki can only presume is a gun show. It’s kind of hard to tell with the hoodie he’s wearing. Katsuki’s hoodie.
It’s funny how even after so long of being together, the most mundane things Deku does can send his heart rocking in his chest.
“Fuck yeah. You bet your ass I can get them all done before you put your All Might poster up, you indecisive shit.” That poster had been making trips on every available surface in the walls of their apartment. Even the fucking bathroom, much to Katsuki’s dismay.
“Game on, Kacchan. Whoever finishes unpacking first gets the side of the bed closest to the window.”
And, as they stay up through the night setting up their new flat with nothing between them but coffee and laughs, Katsuki starts to wonder if the daunting gap he imagined only exists in his head. Years have passed, and with them Katsuki grew to be somebody he can be proud of, so why does he keep dragging his feet in the mud? Allowing the guilt to swallow him will do no more than steal him away from what’s here. The past exists as a footstep for the future, not forgotten, but not dwelled on more than needed either.
As the sun starts to rise, he watches Deku sleepily try to untangle his All Might sheets only to trip on the hem and slide to the floor in a messy heap, he thinks maybe the now is worth way more than any time spent in the past.
(And if the future is tied to a little silver piece hidden under his pile of winter gear then that’s another story entirely.)