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“Here's your order, have a nice day.” Mitsuki smiled fondly at the girl, who handed her four boxes of hot pizza. The girl bowed slightly and returned to her work. Mitsuki got to her car, placed the box carefully on the back seats next to the sweet drink she'd bought at the store next to her job, walked around the car, and took the driver's seat. As she fastened her seat belt, her eyes stared at the new, still unreleased, fighting video game that lay in the passenger seat. She smiled. After sixteen long years, she finally took part in some big project. Her appearance appealed to game developers, and based on that, they built a supporting character in their new action game. After they met, developers fell for Mitsuki so much that they asked her to even dub the character. Even though she was supposed to be in the main storyline for less than two hours and only lead the main characters from one place to another, with two not very important fights, her character still reached the top of the list of hot game news in one evening. The character's design and her pleasant voice attracted people, and a day was enough for the first fanarts to begin to appear on the Internet. For the first time since Katsuki moved to high school dorms, he called her. He didn't even greet her, he just started yelling at her if she thought this is what good moms do. But she just laughed and asked, “Which wet dream of your classmates I’m starring tonight?” To get his frustrated answer, “Everyone!”
Just the memory of her son made her laugh. She missed him. It wasn't the same without their daily quarrels and fights. The whole motherhood she claimed how happy she would be after Katsuki started to live alone. After that, she will once again open the red wine in the evening with her husband Masaru and watch an inappropriate movie. After that, she will once again spontaneously decide to pack up and go on vacation without having to look for a babysitter for her son. Perhaps it was thanks to the heavy motherhood and the horror of parenthood that she wasn't prepared for; but after years she began to regret it. As strange as it may seem, Katsuki was, in fact, an introvert and a secretive who kept a lot of things locked in himself. He showed only negative emotions, and his sovereign smirk just caused tics in her eyes. But at least it was some emotion. She knew that he was in the house, just learning, working, or arguing with children his age with whom he didn’t even remember the names, let alone call them his friends. Even so, years with a hormonal child with a divine complex were difficult. But that didn't prepare her for how hard it would be once he left. Suddenly it was too quiet in their house, too calm, too cold . She missed when she tripped on his shoes lying on the hallway floor. She missed tasting new foods he had learned so that he wouldn't have to rely on someone to carry them under his nose for the rest of his life. She could even feel his too-sharp cologne, which he tried to cover up his sweet sweat, which smelled of caramel and baked cakes. But most of all, she missed him . Her son, who didn’t go far for a sharp word, thought that everyone was useless, and yet he preferred to spend the weekend with his parents in the living room just so he could put his head in her lap and she could stroke his hair until he fell asleep and began to snarl like a kitten.
That's why she valued every moment Katsuki decided to come home. Mostly it was only for a day, he went for some things, he needed to do something or picked up something, once he even showed up at home for only half an hour, because he really needed to come for drumsticks. During the holidays between semesters, he usually disappeared in the morning and didn’t return until the evening. He didn’t even have dinner with them and went straight to his room. Last year, however, he returned home with five friends. He didn't even introduce them, he just said they were going to study in his room. Nevertheless, all five of them bowed respectfully and introduced themselves - she never remembered the names of Katsuki's friends as quickly as that day. She had the impression that each of them was important to him. She had known him for a long time, and even though he was as rude to his friends as he had ever been, she noticed even the tiny things he was doing. She had known him for a long time, so she knew he was doing them on purpose, as a sign that he respected them. He always helped Mina put on her jacket or wrapped it neatly next to her when she took it off. He kept refilling Denki's drink because he often fainted because of his quirk. Hanta was the only one who could make him laugh sincerely, and when he wasn't looking at him, he gave him a few faint smiles. Whenever Jirou joined them, he quietly played songs from her favorite artists on the stereo. And Eijirou… where to start. Gentle touches, looks, listening, competition, laughter and teasing. Eijirou immediately caught her eye. Not only because of his distinctive red hair, but also because of his optimistic nature, which almost blinded her with its glow. If she ever thought Katsuki had no friends, he finally found them in high school.
She smiled again. She added gas lightly and impatiently she drummed her fingers against the skin on the steering wheel. It was customary for their modest study group to appear in their house no more than twice a month. However, for the past three months, Katsuki has often returned home alongside his best friend. They went out together, studied in the kitchen, played games in the living room, or closed in on Katsuki, and based on the silence in the house, Mitsuki judged that they were dealing with adolescent, boyish talk that was certainly not for her ears. Although she caught herself walking past his door a few times, hoping to hear something.
It was no different today. Katsuki returned home for the weekend so that he and Eijirou could prepare for the final exams. She could tell from the larger backpack on Eijirou's back that he would sleep in their house tonight. This, too, was slowly becoming the rule of Eijirou’s visits. He really seemed to be her son's best friend.
So she decided to surprise them. She always made sure her men had a hot, homemade dinner ready at home. She followed the tradition of her family, which proclaimed that the family should meet at least for dinner and talk about the day together. But today, like Masaru, she had to go to work and planned to return in the morning. At work, however, they surprised her and sent her home not only earlier, but also with a demo version of the game for which she was campaigning. She immediately wanted to give it to Katsuki and Eijirou. She hoped she could see the excited look on her son's face again, where the stars shone in his eyes. The last time she'd seen him like that was when he was ten and had bought him a limited edition All Might combat figure for his birthday.
She parked in the driveway at their house and got out. She hid a video game in her purse, put two bottles of Coca-Cola under her armpits, and grabbed all the pizza boxes in her arms. She entered the house, put on comfortable shoes, and went into the kitchen. She set the boxes and drinks on the table and looked around. There was silence in the house. She walked back to the front door, where she hung her coat on a hanger and looked at the shoebox. Katsuki's and Eijirou’s shoes were still in the same place. So they were probably in his room and didn't hear her coming. “I'm home!” She shouted from the hallway, but there was no answer again. She frowned. Maybe they fell asleep from that constant studying. She laughed at the thought of both being knocked over at a small table in the middle of the room and drooling over their finished tasks. She went up the stairs to the first floor and walked in front of the door to Katsuki's room. No voices, no music. Apparently they really fell asleep. Without knocking, she opened the door and peered into the room, ready to wake them both.
Instead, she stood in the doorway. The hand holding the handle shaked. Her legs wouldn’t listen, she couldn't take a step forward or backward. She froze. Her heart pounded and her mouth went strangely dry. Her eyes focused on only one point in the room. On her son's bed.
They were both really in Katsuki's room, but they didn't sleep the way Mitsuki thought. They didn't even study at a small table in the middle of the room, or play video games in front of his television. They were both sitting on the bed. Rather, Eijirou was sitting on the bed while her dear son was sitting on him. On his best friend. On his male best friend. He sat on his lap, legs spread around his hips, his hands resting on his muscular shoulders. Eijirou's hands were clasped against the bed to keep them both slightly tilted back. Because thanks to that, they didn't fall into the duvets and could kiss carefree.
Yes - the red-haired boy, whom she hadn't even known half a year ago, was kissing her son on the bed in the room where he had been growing up since he was a baby. They were both dressed, their hands trying not to examine each other's bodies, their kisses looked innocent, and still quite awkward - but it was still clear that they were not doing it for the first time. Eijirou opened his mouth too expertly, and Katsuki tilted his head to the sides so that their noses wouldn’t be crushed and they could breathe without difficulty.
When she heard a squeaking sound that made it clear that in addition to their joined lips, they began to examine the other's mouth with their tongues; Mitsuki finally woke up. A scream came from her throat, which she could still swallow. She settled it in her stomach and began to feel strange. Carefully, so as not to disturb any of them, she closed the door again. She came to the ground floor like a machine. Her hands were still shaking, her knees joining them. Her eyes darted through the rooms on the ground floor, which took on a dark orange color due to the setting sun. There was something burning in her eyes that made her blink, but her vision grew more and more blurred. The heavy feeling in her stomach slowly reached all corners of her body. She felt sick. She wanted to cry.
She hurried down the hall, put on her shoes and coat again, and went outside. She didn't know where she was going. Her legs set their own path. She looked at the ground. She didn't even know if she had bumped into anyone on the way. Her ears were strangely watered, as if she were underwater. One hand on her chest, in which her heart was pounding with the speed of the Shinkansen.
It wasn't until her feet slowed that coarse sand appeared under her shoes and she heard children's laughter in her ears, then finally looked ahead. She was on the playground not far from the house. She has been coming here with Katsuki since he was born. Behind the playground was a park she liked to go to with a pram, and when Katsuki started walking, she took him straight out on the playground and knew he would be happy for a few hours straight. He loved rolling in the sand, after some years climbing on slides, and he enjoyed it the most when he could climb a wooden castle and play a hero who saved the world.
She sat down on one of the more distant benches. The playground looked almost always the same, it was just supplemented by a few modern climbing frames. There were several children, small and large, with families, friends and alone. Mitsuki always looked younger than she was, so no one in the siege of adults and children would assume that she was probably the oldest where her nearly eighteen-year-old son was waiting for her at home.
Where he was kissing his friend. Mitsuki's heart pounded again. She had to put her hands on her knees and take a deep breath as she remembered what she saw. One corner of her mind kept trying to tell her that it was just a dream. That she was very tired.
But she knew very well it was a lie. Her son really kissed his male friend. She took a deep breath and looked ahead. After all, it hadn't been that long ago that she had been standing by the slide, catching a laughing little boy under it. When did he grow up and become a man who became interested in…
She closed her eyes, swallowed dry. She knew it. Katsuki always has secrets. He hated when she asked him about private matters. He hated it when she tried to get his emotions out of him and tried to diagnose him as if she were a studied therapist. He hated it when she tried to talk to him about girls, partnerships, and marriage. Just the mention of sex made him set their sofa on fire under his palms. Instead of pleasant, family conversations about how to protect themselves properly and stay healthy, they quarreled and shouted at each other for long hours. They never talked about it again. She only forced Masaru to buy him his first condoms and a brochure about what awaits him in the years to come. Masaru returned with red cheeks and the words, “He slammed the door before my nose.” Mitsuki then didn’t find a brochure or condoms in his room. She hoped that he threw them at best, thinking he wouldn't need them.
But they seemed to be in need now.
Just the thought made her tremble. Her son, her Katsuki, her little baby boy …
He never talked about girls. He never brought anyone home. He never reacted when a girl tried to impress him while they were shopping together. Even when they were watching a movie at home, where an actress easily revealed herself or wore some sexy dress and she made fun of Masaru, who, even after all the years and at an advanced age, blushed like a small child; Katsuki didn't move at all. Even though she knew it wasn't right, sometimes when he was at school or with classmates on a trip or in an arcade, she looked at his desk, under the bed, and in the closets. She didn't know what she was looking for, and she was actually happy when she wasn't holding any erotic magazines, short stories, videotapes, or, God forbid, pictures of his female classmates in the showers.
But what she used to take as a blessing now came to her as a curse. The reason she never found anything like that, why Katsuki never acted like a playboy powered by testosterone, was because…
That he didn't like girls.
Mitsuki took another deep breath. Could she guess? Did Katsuki ever let her know that he would be interested in a boy? Just the thought put a dumpling in her throat that kept her from swallowing for a while and made her feel like she was suffocating. She covered her mouth with her hand. Tears welled in her eyes again.
Did she mind seeing him with the boy? Did she mind if she wouldn't have grandchildren one day?
No. The reason she felt she was fainting at any moment had a darker explanation.
Katsuki, her dear son and the light of her life, didn’t tell her. He didn't tell his mother he was in a relationship. He didn't tell his mother he was in love. He didn't tell his mother he didn't like girls.
And why?
Because he was afraid of her.
Mitsuki knew that. She knew that her upbringing wasn’t always right. She knew that her slaps, which at times aimed not only at the nape of the neck and buttocks, but also at the face and back, weren’t right. She knew that when she raised her voice at him, it wasn't always because he had done something wrong, but because she herself was frustrated that she didn't know what to do next. All her life she apologized for her upbringing and said that it was consistent. Although she asked Masaru if he agreed with her upbringing, and he nodded that he did ; even though she asked Katsuki if he understood her upbringing, and he just whispered between his teeth, he did ; she knew she only wanted their consent. Because she felt she had failed. She noticed Katsuki's hunchback every time she raised her voice. Not just him or Masaru, but every time something went wrong. Even when she just laughed out loud or commented on what's going on in her favorite series, Katsuki stopped walking, he crouched slightly and looked at her. As if he was waiting for a hit. As if he expected her to scold him. As if he was afraid of her .
Mitsuki's shoulders began to shake and her lung capacity dwindled. She hissed as if she hadn't drunk in a week. Her own conscience suffocated her. She loved every day that she could hug Katsuki, kiss his hair, or stroke his soft skin. She loved it when they went shopping together and commented on visitors' fashion fads behind display cases. She wanted to travel more to the mountain towns, where her two men traveled through the mountains while she enjoyed the hot baths and then chatted all night over good food and watched the fireworks and watched the stars. She loved Katsuki. More than herself. And she knew he loved her too.
But still - still…
Yet he never confided in her. He didn't tell her what was bothering him. He didn't tell her who he liked. He didn't tell her what he liked. She came up with everything slowly, gradually and late. Even Izuku, the son of her good friend, knew more about Katsuki at times than she did. It scared her. Not because someone cared about him, but because she felt like she didn't really know him. The older he got, the abyss between them grew. Although many people couldn’t see under his dark aggressive mask, Mitsuki knew what he was doing. He was doing the same thing she was. After her parents told her under their hard hand that they were doing it for her and for raising a good, successful and beloved woman and mother. But she transferred her own trauma, her own fear of failure - to him. To the one soul that didn’t yet have time to be an adult and walked to the future with a bad step forward.
Because…
Because she did something wrong ?
Mitsuki felt something hard touch the toe of her shoe. A moment later, she heard the sound of little feet. “I'm sorry, ma'am.” The childish boy's voice was close, but Mitsuki could see nothing through the fog before her eyes. “Ma’am… why are you crying?”
Katsuki wiped his hands on a towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His lips were slightly swollen, his cheeks still pink, and his hair stuck a little to the sides as Eijirou played with them. Just as he remembered the light pulling on them, he shivered. “Are you cold?” Eijirou asked him, suddenly appearing behind him, wrapping his arms around his hips and pressing him to his chest. He bent down slightly so he could kiss the older man's neck, and after a while he began to taste it as his favorite sweet. Katsuki closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. Eijirou suddenly began to grow half a year ago, and while Katsuki had grown by only two centimeters in two years in high school, the redhead had grown by ten. He began to look at him from above, and when Katsuki wanted to kiss Eijirou, he had to stand on tiptoe. At first it bothered him, and there was no day he hadn't hit Eijirou in the back of the head, saying he hoped it would make him a little smaller again. But from the moment they finally realized that their looks and touches weren't just friendly, he liked it. How safe he felt in his arms. How he could sink his nose into his chest. The way Eijirou kissed his hair at the top of his head.
He grunted contentedly and tilted his head to the side to reveal another piece of his skin to Eijirou. Eijirou took advantage of it immediately. He kissed him on the milky neck a few times before stroking him with his tongue from the end to his earlobe. Katsuki shivered again, his eyebrows coming dangerously close to each other and half-opening his mouth. He wanted to immerse himself in his kisses and touches a little more, to enjoy it a little longer, but he knew they had to stop. He turned his head to Eijirou and kissed him lightly on the lips. Just for a few seconds so the redhead couldn't deepen their kiss. Eijirou frowned and stuck out his lower lip. “Stop it,” Katsuki growled unhappily. Eijirou leaned his chin on his shoulder and looked at their reflections in the mirror, “you know they can come home at any moment.”
“I know,” Eijirou said, kissing Katsuki on the shoulder, “so I was hoping to show them one little surprise.”
“What?” Katsuki almost didn't ask it when Eijirou bit him on the skin on his neck. “Eijirou!”
The redhead just laughed and licked his bite with his tongue so he wouldn't burn so much. “Don't worry, I didn't bite you much.”
“There may still be a hickie, you asshole!”
“Maybe,” Eijirou said, pulling Katsuki closer.
“You're an idiot.”
“But your idiot, right?”
Katsuki pulled away from Eijirou, turned on him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the still-wet lips. “Mine,” the elder confirmed, touching his hand. Eijirou immediately intertwined his fingers with him. “Don't do it,” he protested, but the redhead didn't listen. He loved being able to hold his hand. He had fine skin, long fingers, and firm palms. They just sweated madly, and after a while sweet smoke began to rise from them. It was a warning of the explosion that was to follow. But Eijirou never cared. It was always enough for him to harder his hand and feel nothing but warmth. He loved how red Katsuki's face turned then. He hated when he couldn't control his quirk just because of his emotions.
“I'm hungry,” Eijirou said suddenly.
“You're always hungry.”
“I'm growing, man.”
“Which we have to stop. I'm not going to have a boyfriend who is two heads taller and three times as wide as I am.”
“But wait, wait, wait, do you know how many benefits it will be?”
“What? Will you be my unbreakable rock, which will protect me from every danger?”
“Well, I meant you wouldn't need a blanket, because instead you wrap me around you and I can take everything off the top shelves, yeah, and you'll never lose me in the crowd again! But it would work with that rock, too.”
Katsuki dug his fingers roughly under Eijirou’s ribs, but the redhead just laughed out loud. “You idiot,” Katsuki said, his face flushing slightly. Together, still hand in hand, they reached the ground floor. There was silence in the house. “I'm going to prepare something,” Katsuki said, releasing his palm.
“I'll help you!”
“No way! Not after you set the dorm kitchen on fire.”
“You know very well it wasn't my fault!” They walked into the kitchen together. They both immediately noticed the wrapped food and the sweet drink on the table. “Wow, pizza!” The redhead shouted and walked over to the table. He opened the lid of one of the boxes and groaned loudly. The greasy smell of ham, tomatoes, meat and hot peppers hit him in the nose. Pizza was the only exception where he voluntarily had a spicy version. Something amused him about the gentle tingling on his tongue and the feeling of warmth in his stomach. He set the box aside and began to open the lid of the other, which smelled a little more of vegetables. “Which one do you want?” He asked enthusiastically. But Katsuki still didn't answer. He didn't even stand next to him. He looked up from the pizza and looked at his friend. He immediately ran to him. His face had lost all color, his hands were shaking, and drops of sweat were visible from a distance. “Bakugou, what's going on?” Eijirou took his cheeks in his hands and looked into his eyes. But Katsuki kept his eyes still on the food on the table. He opened his mouth. Only a faint moan and a strangled word he didn't understand came out of him. “What?” Katsuki pulled away from him and ran to the living room. He was too fast for Eijirou to catch him. The blond leaned against the window, looked somewhere in front of their house, and began to breathe rapidly. As if he couldn't breathe properly. His shoulders began to shake, and his entire back arched in the wrong rhythm of breathing. “Bakugou,” Eijirou said carefully as he walked over to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “W-what's going on?”
“M-Mom…,” he stammered. Katsuki didn't call his mother that way. She was always an old hag . Like she didn't call him son, she called him words like a jerk or a rude brat . Even after years of storytelling and half a year of getting to know Mitsuki, their relationship was still a mystery to Eijirou. But he knew that if he was willing to call an older woman something like a mother , something was wrong. Eijirou stroked his back with one hand and sank more into his shoulder with the other. A sign that he can continue. That he needs to know more to understand him. "T-that f-food - she - she was here.” But Eijirou still didn't understand. But before he could open his mouth to ask, Katsuki continued, “D-don't you understand? She was here. The woman loves her comfort. Whenever her work ends and she gets home, no one gets her out of the house. D-dad has to take her to the bathroom to get out of bed or couch. If she had come once, if she had already got home, she would not have left. Not before she saw me so we could argue before she left. M-mom doesn't do this. She doesn't do it. She stays at home. Always. Always !” Katsuki shook his head. Eijirou grabbed him tightly in his arms, buried his head in his shoulder, and began kissing him lightly on the exposed skin of his neck. It gave him a sense of security. He knew that his touch began to calm his pounding heart within a few seconds. But not this time. Now he felt himself strain even more, and his heart jumped a few paces faster. “S-she was here,” he said again, “she-she must have seen us. Certainly. She must have seen us… She saw us, Kirishima. That's why she left. God, she left because she saw us.” Eijirou tightened his grip on his arms. Even his heart suddenly pounded.
Katsuki and Eijirou started dating three months ago. They had both known for some time that they perceived the other as something more than a friend.
Eijirou realized this at a sports festival. When he took Katsuki off his shoulders then so that they could prepare for individual matches together. He watched him go into the locker room and couldn't take his eyes off him until he saw only an empty corridor in front of him. They didn't know each other well at the time. They were almost like strangers. But something strangely drew Eijirou closer to him. At first he thought it was thanks to his flashy quirk, perhaps a strange character that bordered on audacity and arrogance, or his determination, where after a moment of narration he really believed that he would one day be the number one hero. But that day, that moment, in that place - he knew it was something else. Because the reason he couldn't take his eyes off Katsuki was because he could still feel his hot body on his back and shoulders. He could still smell the sweet scent of his body and his menthol breath. And he could still feel his delicate palms, which strangely tickled his neck after the match, until he shuddered. He thought Mina had touched him, but it was him. Katsuki frowned at him as if he might have seen his thoughts and wanted to scold him for what he was thinking, but he didn't say anything. His feelings deepened, and on the day he and his friends rescued Katsuki from the clutches of the League of Villains in Kamino and grabbed his palm for the first time and felt the softness again, he knew he was in love.
Katsuki's journey was more complicated, winding, and perhaps unnecessarily difficult. However, this was due to the fact that before Katsuki was able to love someone else, he needed to deal with himself. Ever since he arrived at U.A. his ego received one blow after another. Where he excelled somewhere, he was mediocre now. Where he was exceptional, he was just one of many now. Where he had won so easily somewhere, he needed to fight and catch up beyond his means to accept with a dull pain in his heart that he had lost now. It was a long journey on which he encountered a lot of obstacles and pain. Nightmares, anxiety, depression, depersonalization. He had to fight everything. The destination of his journey was in sight, but finally, when he admitted that he wasn’t perfect and began to find solace in the words and arms of his friends, when he was finally able to open himself to someone - he understood. There were still many things to learn. And one of them was love. He was never a romantic. When he saw his parents kissing, he didn’t forget to make strange noises. When he heard Deku and Tenya talking about Ochako and realized that his childhood friend had fallen in love with her, he laughed all evening. When a girl confessed to him, he never listened to her monologue and left without answering. Still, he wasn't stupid. He knew that his heart pounding when he looked at Eijirou wasn’t normal. He knew that when he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth, when Eijirou was talking to someone else, wasn’t normal. He knew that when he changed three times just before their tutoring to wear clothes that fit him in the borderline of good and sexy , it wasn’t normal. He knows that he fell in love. And for the first time in his life, he let his emotions flow freely. He didn't resist them. He didn’t enjoy them, but he didn’t try to suppress them in any way.
And thanks to that, they got together. Just after Christmas, when they met and went to the arcade together with Mina, Hanta and Denki. When Katsuki accompanied each of them on the train that evening, he was left alone with Eijirou. It was eight in the evening, it was just starting to snow slightly, it was cold outside. They sat together on the bench, waiting for Eijirou’s train to arrive. “Why didn't you go with Mina? I thought you lived close to each other,” he told him then, and immediately bit into his tongue. It sounded too rude. As if he didn't want to be with him. But Eijirou didn't seem to mind his remark. He just smiled at him and blushed slightly. “I wanted to be with you a little longer. I enjoy being alone with you,” he admitted, shrugging. That was when Katsuki decided he no longer wanted to be just his friend. Katsuki grabbed his chin and leaned over. He kissed him. Gently, lightly. They almost didn't rub against each other. He was about to pull away, but Eijirou grabbed the hem of his jacket and pulled him back to him. His kiss was more passionate. Coarser. Better . In a moment, their innocent kisses transformed into something deep and wild. Eijirou missed his train that day. Katsuki then grabbed his hand, intertwined his fingers with it, and hid them in his coat pocket. “It's cold, wear gloves, you idiot,” he scolded him as they got up together and walked to Katsuki's house. His parents didn't mind. They were finally glad he had some friends. But they didn't know that Eijirou and Katsuki had barely slept that night. They kissed until the morning before falling asleep in their arms.
Even so, they kept their relationship to themselves.
Their friends had an annoying need to know every detail of their lives. They didn’t feel prepared to be included in questions about their relationship.
Eijirou lived alone with his divorced father. He was a nice, very open man, but a year ago he lost his job, and even though he tried to make a living as an artist on his own, it was still not enough. He was often stressed, tired, and it hurt Eijirou to see him with circles under his eyes and productivity drugs, which he bluntly tried to hide from his son. He felt that he would accept his relationship with Katsuki, but he wouldn’t be happy. They didn't even know each other properly. They had a small apartment that was almost always a mess. He never brought any of his friends there. Eijirou wanted to prepare a great moment to introduce Katsuki to his father. Now wasn’t the time.
Katsuki's family stood together, despite the way the blonde kept trying to distance himself from them. He had a large family that met several times a year. Masaru's side of the family was calm and educated. Mitsuki's side of the family was loud and energetic. Eijirou once saw them when Katsuki ordered him to come and save him from their clutches. Masaru was a very nice and romantic man. Some time ago, he began to look at Eijirou differently. Not bad, no more nice, just - different . Katsuki told him that he thought Masaru knew about their relationship. Eijirou was startled at first. Katsuki loved his privacy and still held the position of a proud, independent teenager who definitely didn't want to tell his parents anything. But Katsuki was calm and strangely relaxed, as if he was actually glad his father knew. But when it came to Mitsuki, the blond always froze. “The longer she doesn't know, the better,” he said. And Eijirou didn't understand until a few weeks later. Katsuki, despite the way he treated his mother, hoped for one thing. That he would never disappoint her. That one day he would come home and she would be proud of him, she would hug him and talk about him in superlatives all evening. She was important to him, and he wanted nothing more than to still be her perfect little boy . He wasn’t ashamed of Eijirou, but of himself. He was ashamed that he didn't feel ready for a serious relationship yet, and yet he had it. He was ashamed that he was so clumsy in everything and that Eijirou had to endure his moods. He was ashamed that he had decided to steal Eijirou from someone better. He was selfish. He knew it. But he didn't want to admit it. He was still able to shut up his conscience. But his mother's words were always stronger. He could still hear her tell him how weak he was when they kidnapped him. Although his brain was trying to force the memory of her crying, how she was barely breathing when the police finally brought him home. How she hugged him and begged him not to do anything like that again. As she pulled him into the bedroom that night, she hugged him in her bed and stroked his hair all night, saying how much she loved him.
But his heart didn't work that way. It still reminded him only of the pain of all the wounds and disappointment they had experienced together. He was afraid she would say something that might affect their relationship.
You're still a little boy to know what true love is.
I don't want my son to be gay, break up!
You don't deserve someone like Eijirou.
Everything would hurt so much.
“Bakugou,” Eijirou whispered as he pulled away from him and clasped his face in his hands again. He didn't shake that much anymore. But he was still breathing badly. He knew that there were only things that helped with his panic attacks. Long walks in the fresh air, where he will hold his hand tightly and remain silent. “Let's go out.” He didn't wait for an answer, took his hand, led him into the hall, helped him put on his shoes and jacket, and went out together. The sun had almost set.
Masaru parked his car in the driveway next to Mitsuki’s one. He got out, locked the car, and looked at their house. No lights. Apparently no one was in it. He sighed. Without another word, he left for the playground. It had been half an hour since he had called his wife to tell her that he would get home before dinner and if he should buy anything along the way. Mitsuki was silent for a moment until she asked him if he would take her home. When she told him where she was, he wondered why she couldn't come home alone and asked her if anything had happened. Instead of answering, he heard only a low sob. Masaru's heart stopped at that moment. Mitsuki wasn't someone who cried easily. There must be a reason. He saw her cry the day Katsuki was born, and the nurse put her son on her chest for the first time. He saw her cry when Katsuki was three years old and accidentally broke an urn with her grandmother's ashes. He saw her cry when the three of them were on vacation abroad for the first time and walked along the beach together in the evening. He saw her cry when she argued with Katsuki, at the age of twelve, so strongly and for so long she slapped him, and he said in the calmest, yet cold voice, that he hated her. He saw her cry for almost a week in a row when Katsuki was kidnapped. He saw her cry as soon as Katsuki was brought back home.
Strong anger, sadness or joy. Nothing else could make her cry. Most of the memories now involve Katsuki. He suspected that her mood was connected to their son. All he knew was that whatever had happened must have been serious.
He walked to the playground and saw Mitsuki’s figure from a distance. She was sitting on a bench, leaning forward slightly. She was always proud, sitting straight and her chin slightly raised. She looked noble, sometimes arrogant, sometimes as if she was flirting. She was like a chameleon. Masaru loved her more every day.
It wasn't until he was almost in front of her that she noticed him. She looked up from the ground and looked at her husband. As soon as their eyes met, tears welled up in her eyes again and she had to bite her lip to keep from hitting another painful moan. “Love,” Masaru said, almost frightened as he sat down next to her, immediately wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her short, pale blond hair. Mitsuki sank her nose into his chest, sucked on his thick cologne, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She loved his warmth and smell. He always managed to calm her down. “Love,” he said again, slower, quieter, “what happened?”
Mitsuki didn't answer him for a long time. She stopped her tears, but she couldn't stop the sobbing. At times she shakes slightly. As if all energy was disappearing from her body. After a while, it was only quiet, “I don't really know, Masaru.”
The brown-headed man sighed. “Did something happen at work?”
“No,” she replied softly.
He kissed her hair again and buried his nose in it. The strands of her hair flickered on his nose and he took a deep breath. Her hair still smelled sweet with hardener. That meant she hadn't taken a shower after work yet. “Have you been home?” He asked her.
“Y-yes,” she stammered.
“Was Katsuki there?”
Mitsuki's hands tightened on him. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Were you two fighting?” She didn't answer, but shook her head. “But is it about him?”
Mitsuki sighed loudly. “I don't know…. Maybe… or… probably not…”
Masaru was confused. He pulled away slightly from her so that she could still feel his warmth, but he could look into her face. He stroked her ear the way she loved it. She was sensitive there. She shivered and smiled slightly. He continued, “Is this about you?” Mitsuki nodded again and closed her eyes. She tilted her head to the side so that her husband could stroke her entire face. He had hot, big palms. She loved them. They gave her confidence. “Um, I thought today Katsuki brought home… Oh .”
Mitsuki opened her eyes. Masaru was smiling. “W-what?”
“Kirishima-kun is there for a sleepover, right?” Mitsuki swallowed loudly. Her eyes looked somewhere in the ground. She didn't say anything. “Did he tell you anything?”
“...No,” Mitsuki replied, her face sore again, “...nothing,” She hugged her husband again. She dug her nose into his throat and took a deep breath. “He didn't say, Masaru, and that's the problem.” A tear ran down her cheek. From her face she led her wet path to Masaru's neck.
As soon as Masaru felt the cold of a tear, Mitsuki pulled her away, wiped the tear from her finger and kissed her. Only briefly, but still strongly. “Let's go home,” he said, helping his wife to her feet. He immediately offered his hand and she accepted it. Together they were walking from an empty playground.
After a few steps, Mitsuki asked him quietly, “Did he tell you?”
“No,” Masaru laughed, looking at the sky, which was beginning to turn dark blue. The stars have been seen in some places, “it's the same as you. Everything is buried deeply inside his guts. He won't just let someone peek inside. He doesn't want everyone to know everything about him. He's a—”
“I see,” she interrupted, clinging to him more, “so… how ?”
“I knew it,” the brown-haired man said. Together they crossed the road to their house. “He’s behaving just like me. He doesn't know what to do. We wouldn't be together if a certain blonde girl didn't notice me and decided to dig into me until I didn't have another chance that go out with her on a date.” They both laughed softly. They always found their acquaintance with each other funny. Whenever they told anyone, they immediately thought that Mitsuki was an arrogant woman who needed to get what she wanted, while Masaru was a weakling who just couldn't say no. But the truth was somewhere else. But they never explained it to anyone. They didn't care what others thought of them. They have been in love for almost 25 years. No one could take it from them. “Katsuki is the same. He looks like he's still thinking about something, and when you ask him what's going on, he's confused for a short moment. But cute as if you stop a kid from playing with his toys. He began to dress better, especially when Kirishima-kun was to come. Have you noticed that he always wears something red? I asked him once, he didn't answer me at first, but then he just said it was Kirishima-kun’s favorite color. When he slept here for the first time, he volunteered to offer him his bed and went to the couch himself. In the morning I caught him here, drinking coffee and watching some horror. He said he couldn't sleep. He must have been nervous that someone so important to him was sleeping in his bed.” He took off his shoes and laughed. “And do you remember his delicious banana muffins? Our son baked something, even though he doesn't eat sweets, and even with bananas, which he hates so much. Would he just do it for someone?”
“No,” Mitsuki told him truthfully as she hung her coat on a hanger and took off her shoes. Neither Eijirou nor Katsuki's shoes were in the shoebox, their jackets not hung on a hanger. They were gone. They came to the living room together. Masaru wanted to sit on the couch and start watching favorite show, which had been airing for ten minutes already, when he noticed Mitsuki still standing in the same place. Before you could call her to you, she asked, “How come you noticed, but I didn't?” She frowned. Her chin was bowed to her chest. She suddenly looked so fragile.
“Because I'm the same Mitsuki.” He sat on the back of the couch and held out his hand. Mitsuki walked over to him, intertwined their fingers, and stood between his spread legs. “He’s after you in nature and appearance, but he still has something from me. Terrible dealing with romantic feelings.” They both laughed. They kissed lightly and leaned their foreheads together. Masaru looked into her beautiful red eyes and stroked her hair with his free hand. “Let him come to you ny himself and explain everything to you. I believe it is harder for him than for us.”
“What if he doesn't come?” She asked quietly, as if afraid of the question.
“He’ll come,” he said, kissing her again, “believe me.”
Katsuki and Eijirou reached the fence of the Bakugou’s house just before eight o'clock in the evening. As soon as Katsuki noticed that it was lit in the house, he stopped abruptly. He tugged on Eijirou's hand, but he didn't object, nor did he complain that his hand hurt. He looked at Katsuki, who looked ahead as if he saw a ghost. He swallowed loudly and had to run his tongue over his mouth as they suddenly dried. “You can do it,” Eijirou said, approaching his partner. He kissed his forehead. Katsuki closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. He nodded. Eijirou smiled broadly at him, and together they walked to the front door.
“I'm home!” Katsuki shouted, trying not to notice how weak his voice sounded. He coughed. He hoped his tone would return to normal. Eijirou stroked his back and smiled at him again. He knew that if he hadn't just stood in front of the door, the blond would turn and walk back into the silence of the street. Maybe he'd walk to the train station and go back to the dorms. Katsuki hated losses and never ran away from a fight. But the fight with his emotions was different.
As they both took off their jackets, Masaru appeared in the hallway. “Hi guys,” he said cheerfully, “were you in the arcade?”
“We were just on walk,” Eijirou told him, sure Katsuki’s thoughts were elsewhere.
“I see,” Masaru said, walking over to Eijirou, “could you help me with something before you take off your shoes? At work they gave me new boards for designing and I would need to put them in the garage. I still have them in the car.”
“Of course,” Eijirou said truthfully.
“Thank you, Kirishima-kun,” Masaru said honestly, walking to the door. He opened them and looked at his son. “Mom's in the kitchen.”
Katsuki winced. He turned slightly to see the two men in the doorway. From Eijirou's careful gaze, he guessed that he was probably a little pale again. But his father smiled at him. The smile he always had on his face when he tried to support him in something. Without another word, he walked out the door, and Eijirou, when he was sure their father couldn’t see them, leaned over to kiss Katsuki on the cheek. “You can do it,” he told him once more and went out.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Katsuki felt he couldn't breathe again. Something in his head told him to turn around and leave. Run away. Somewhere far away. Or slip discreetly into his room, lock himself, put on his headphones, and go out in the morning before he goes back to dorm. But the pride that had been building on him for years, and still unwilling to lose because of his emotions, shouted at him to go see his mother. Let him talk to her. Let it finally be clear between them.
He took a deep breath and entered the house. He went through the living room, which was connected to the kitchen. The long dining table was set for four people. His mother expected them to arrive. He took another deep breath. He entered the kitchen. His mother stood with her back to him, slicing some vegetables. Normally she played some music while cooking, but this time she worked in silence. There was something scary and excruciating about it at the same time. “Hi,” he greeted her softly.
Mitsuki stopped slicing vegetables. She paused comically for a few seconds, as if she had become a dummy. She immediately started slicing again. She didn't turn to Katsuki. “Hi,” she said in a voice as weak and quiet as her son.
Katsuki swallowed loudly. “W-what are you doing?”
“Salad,” she replied abruptly. “To the pizza I brought,” she added, breathing a sigh, “in the afternoon.”
“I saw your car - did you come earlier from work?”
“Yes.”
There was silence again. Katsuki didn't know how to continue. He didn't know what to say to her. Should he ask anything else? Play his learned role as a cheeky brat and simply avoid all her questions and assumptions? Should he lie again? He never knew how to do it, but he always did great in front of his parents. As if they were opening a secret box in it.
But this time he knew he would not run away from the truth. She would catch up with her soon anyway. He swallowed loudly again. His mouth went completely dry. He took a deep breath and began, “M-Mom, listen—” Before he could say anything, the knife that Mitsuki was slicing vegetables fell with a loud rumble on the kitchen counter. Immediately, loud sobs and moans began to bounce off the kitchen walls. “M-Mom,” Katsuki whispered, lost. Mitsuki shivered. She twisted more into herself. Her shoulders began to shake at regular intervals as she sobbed.
Katsuki's body decided to act on its own. He walked over to his mother, grabbed her elbow, and turned her toward him. Gently, so as not to frighten her by his touch. They were the same height, so when he turned her to face him, he saw her right in the face. Her eyes filled with tears streaming down her pink cheeks. She tried to wipe them with dirty hands, but it wasn't enough. Katsuki did something he hadn't done on his own for many years. He hugged her. He pulled her tightly to his body and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, which were still shaking. Mitsuki immediately hugged him around the hips. They were so close. The last time they huddled together like this was when he finally returned home safely from Kamino. But she still felt he didn't like her arms. How he fought it.
But not now. He held her tight, as if afraid to let her go. He rubbed her face as if he were a little lion cub trying to calm his sad mother lioness. “K-Katsuki…”
“Mom,” Katsuki began, swallowing again, “Mom… I’m sorry.”
“God, what I did to you.” Katsuki made a puzzled sound. Mitsuki pulled away from him and grabbed his cheeks. She looked into the same eyes as she had. They were just a little lighter. “What did I do to make you need to apologize to me?”
“I-I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Katsuki. You didn't do anything.” She hugged him again.
This time it was Katsuki who clung to her more. “D-Didn't…?” He asked uncertainty.
Mitsuki just shook her head. “God, of course not, you fool. You didn't do anything. It's me… You didn't tell me. You didn't follow me. You didn't trust me.”
“It's my fault,” the younger of them protested, “I'm weak and selfish and—”
“Stop it,” she whispered, slapping him lightly on the back of the neck. She didn't want to do it. It was a reflex. Katsuki winced, but didn't react more. Mitsuki bit her lip. She hated herself for this impulsive behavior. “You didn’t do anything,” she repeated, “you're the best boy I could ever wish for. And I'm the worst mom when I couldn't figure out what was going on in the life of my beloved son.”
“No, it's not like that,” Katsuki said, closing his eyes. “I'm just…”
“Were you afraid?”
“…Yes.”
Mitsuki closed her eyes in pain. “…Why? That I'll be upset? That I’ll scream?”
“That I would disappoint you.” Katsuki felt his nose strangely itch and his eyes burned. He didn't want to cry. Not in front of her. But something about her delicate touches and the fresh, floral scent made him tear down all the solid walls that surrounded his heart.
“You really are a fool,” she whispered, pulling away from him again. She ran her hand through the bangs, exposing his high forehead. Despite her tears, she smiled. Even though he was almost a grown man, he still looked insanely cute with his combed hair. “You could never disappoint me. Never. Ever . And definitely not because of this .” She didn't try to call it anything. If he was the same as her, she knew it must have been hard for him to admit that he loved someone, and maybe he still couldn't tell Eijirou what he meant to him. The word love could scare him. She had to be careful.
“Even if—”
“ Never ,” she repeated more rudely, looking him straight in the eye, “do you understand me, Katsuki?”
Katsuki just nodded. Mitsuki smiled at him and began to play with his hair again. With her other hand, she wiped away the tears that had already begun to dry on her face. They were perhaps the last ones to be shed today. She felt stupid. She had never cried so often. She was even starting to have a headache. “Mom?” Katsuki asked quietly, glancing down.
“Yes?”
“… Do y-you… you still…” He bit his lip. He couldn't even finish the sentence.
“Do I still love you?” Mitsuki asked weakly, as if she couldn't believe it. “Did you really think that when I saw you kissing a boy, your boyfriend, and the only person you decided to let be in your life - that I would stop loving you?” Katsuki muttered something. “Fool... I still love you. More than myself. More than your father. More than anything in the world.” Katsuki looked at her. Tears glistened in his red eyes. Not sadness, but gratitude and hope. “I love you, Katsuki,” she said, kissing his exposed forehead. Katsuki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A huge boulder suddenly fell from his heart. He felt that she herself must have heard it fall to the ground.
After a few pleasant, quiet minutes, Katsuki growled, “God, you saw us kissing.” Mitsuki just laughed and kissed him again on the soft skin.
“We're here!” Masaru shouted from the doorway. His father wasn’t in the habit of announcing his arrivals. He had been used to it since Mitsuki was pregnant and had to work overtime almost all the time. He returned home late and left early in the morning. He didn't want to disturb her. It was the same, even though Katsuki was born, and since he had been a very inquisitive and action-packed baby from birth, he almost didn't sleep at all, his voice didn’t want to thwart Mitsuki’s long attempt at putting their little devil to sleep. He still had it after all the years. They both always complained that he was like a ghost.
But now he needed to point out that the two had entered the house with Eijirou. As if he knew what was going on in the kitchen. Katsuki took another deep breath. If his mother knew, she must have told his father. The two worked together as one body and one soul. They never had any secrets from them, no matter how cruel they were.
Mitsuki pulled away from her son, adjusted his bangs, and looked him straight in the eye. “I just have to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Are you happy?”
Katsuki nodded without thinking. “I am.”
“In that case, that's all that matters.”
Eijirou and Masaru entered the kitchen the moment Mitsuki released Katsuki from the hug and returned to the counter to cut the vegetables. Masaru walked over to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. Put a box of fresh strawberries on the counter next to her, which he received from a colleague and forgot in the car.
Katsuki studied them for a moment before reaching out to Eijirou. “Come here,” he told him quietly. Eijirou hold him. His heart pounded as Katsuki intertwined his fingers with him. They only kept like this in the privacy of a room or park, where they were sure no one would see them. But now they were standing in the middle of the kitchen, a bright yellow light coming from the chandelier, and Katsuki's parents stood just a few feet away. “Mom, Dad.” They both turned to them. “You already know Kirishima, but…” He looked at Eijirou, who smiled nervously at him, “… Now I would like to introduce my boyfriend - Eijirou.”
Eijirou looked at his parents. Masaru smiled at him, as did Mitsuki. However, his wife had a few tears in her eyes that hadn’t yet dried. He straightened nervously and bowed slightly. “I'm g-glad to meet you,” he stammered, as if seeing them for the first time.
“So do we, Eijirou-kun,” Mitsuki said, approaching her husband. He hugged her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest.
“T-thank you.”
“Eijirou-kun was just telling me how he and Katsuki got together.”
“Really?!” Mitsuki shouted, opening her mouth dramatically, “You know more than I do!” She looked at the boys in front of her, who were still holding hands. “Eijirou, you have to tell me all this!” Katsuki just rolled his eyes, and Eijirou scratched his hair nervously.
“I'm hungry,” Masaru said, finally shifting the subject to something else. From what Eijirou was telling him, he understood that Katsuki wasn’t ready to talk about it. He needed time. And he was ready to give him as much as he needed. “Can I take something to the dining room?”
“The pizzas are already heated in the oven, just put them on a plate. Katsuki, help your dad.” Katsuki just nodded, released Eijirou, and walked with his father to the oven. “Eijirou, will you please take the salad to the dining room?” Mitsuki asked as she placed the last sliced cucumber in the vegetable bowl.
“Of course,” Eijirou said with a smile. He suddenly felt full of energy. His heart was pounding and he had a terrible desire to go jogging or at least jump a meter high. He was thrilled that they had finally found a place where they didn't have to hide anything.
When Eijirou reached Mitsuki and wanted to take the bowl in his hand, she put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. As soon as he turned to her, she asked him, “I know it's not easy for him. But trust me, he's a great, nice guy inside who can get easily hurt by anything. Watch out for him, please.”
“Don't worry, Mrs. Bakugou,” Eijirou told her just as quietly, so that none of the men beside them could hear them, “I'm trying.”
“I'm glad,” she said, stroking his hand before removing her hand from his body.
Then they all went into the dining room together, sat around the table and talked. Eijirou talked about his hero practice with Fatgum, Katsuki about his hero practice with Mirko and Masaru about how a colleague brought her shiba-in dog to work and began to think that one day they could also get a puppy.
Only Mitsuki was silent. She looked ahead with a smile on her face. Eijirou and Katsuki sat side by side, and depending on how close they were, she was sure they were rubbing their thighs together. Katsuki leaned back in his chair and looked at Eijirou as a holy image. Eijirou smiled, constantly turning to Katsuki, occasionally stroking his thigh with his hand or touching his shoulder and turning to them again so he could continue the story. But Katsuki didn't take his eyes off his boyfriend. He touched the seat inconspicuously with his fingers. He did this from childhood. Whenever he wanted something, he inconspicuously touched the nearest thing with his index finger and middle finger, which separated him from what he wanted. And now it was a chair that wouldn't let him hug or kiss his boyfriend.
Mitsuki smiled even more. Katsuki may have been an almost grown man who once decided to become the best hero, not only having a few loyal friends by his side, but also a nice and courageous boyfriend; but for Mitsuki he would be forever her little treasure.