Chapter Text
It was one of those rare moments where Mitskui and Masaru got to see their son without the pretense of work. They could all gather and just be a family. Well, as much as a family they could be with Katsuki and Mitskui seemingly at each other's throats every ten minutes.
As the weather got colder and it drew nearer to Christmas, Mitsuki nagged her son more and more to stay at the house for a few days. Luckily, Katsuki was being paid enough that he had been able to move out by the time he turned twenty. It was better for everyone’s peace of mind, Masaru often joked. It did mean, though, that he and Mitsuki saw their son significantly less. So, when Christmas started to come close, Mitsuki took up the mantle of trying to get her son to stay with them for a few days. After about a week straight of nagging, Katsuki had finally agreed, on the condition that he didn’t have to take any vacation days. His mother reluctantly agreed, just happy to see him again.
Masaru and Mitsuki stood in the kitchen, preparing butajiru for the cold winter night. Katsuki had come home about thirty minutes ago and made a beeline for the shower. When he eventually came down, hair still wet, he was on the phone. As he entered the kitchen he came up to his parents and set the phone on the counter, switching it to speakerphone.
“Kiri, say ‘hi’ to my parents,” he said.
“Hi sir! Hi ma’am!” His voice crackled through the phone speaker. Mitsuki and Masaru came closer to the phone.
“Hello Kirishima!” Mitsuki responded, smiling. “How’s work going?” The three of them fell into comfortable conversation about how Kirishima’s role at Fat Gum’s agency was going, his plans for Christmas, and how his mothers were doing. Katsuki wandered over to the stove, where the butajiru was boiling. He stirred the pot, bringing it back down to a simmer. He smiled to himself. It was nice hearing his parents and Kirishima chat. They had always liked the redhead. After a few minutes, Katsuki tore himself away from the pot and went to grab his phone back.
“Okay, I’m taking over again,” he cut in during a lull in the conversation. He took the phone off speakerphone and walked over to the couch. “I’ll only be on for another few minutes,” he said to his parents as he walked away. He settled himself on the couch and continued whatever conversion he and Kirishima had been having before.
Mitsuki took control over the pot, once again and Masaru began to set the table and get bowls out of the cupboards. Every so often, they’d catch a snippet of Katsuki’s conversation. They seemed to be talking about their New Years plans. Nothing too interesting. Until-
“It’ll be fine, Kiri,” Katsuki said. There was a short silence and then the blonde burst out laughing.
“Kiri-Kirishima… Listen, Eiji… Eijirou! It’ll be fine.” Mitsuki and Masaru shot a glance at each other. They knew Katsuki and Kirishima were close, but they had never heard either boy use each other’s first names before.
“Yes, I promise… I promise!... Okay, yeah… you too. ‘Kay, bye.” Katsuki ended the conversation and sat on the couch, typing something into his phone.
“Are they…” Mitsuki mouthed to her husband. Masaru shrugged, unsure of how to proceed.
“It’d make sense if they were. They’ve been inseparable since high school. He used to sleep in Katsuki’s room, for goodness sake.”
“I know, I know. I just thought at this rate, they’d never get together. I’m going to ask,” Mitsuki whispered to her husband. Masaru shook his head.
“Leave it, Suki. If he wants to tell us he’ll tell us,” he whispered back.
“No, because if we leave it, he won’t tell us for what? Another month? Two?” Mitsuki whispered, hand on her hip as she stirred the soup.
“Just leave it for now-”
“What are you two whispering about?” Katsuki stood behind them, still typing into his phone.
“Nothing!” Masaru said, completely conspicuously. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the two.
“What’s going on? I don’t like it when you two get all conspiratory.” Mitsuki began skimming the top of the soup so she could add the miso.
“We’re not being conspiratory, Katsuki,” she said casually.
“Right…” Katsuki said, eyes still narrowed. He leaned against the counter and continued typing on his phone.
“We were just curious when you and Kirishima got so close that you use first names.” Katsuki’s head shot up and he glared at his mother. He placed his phone on the counter and crossed his arms.
“We’ve been calling each other by our first names since high school,” he growled. Mitsuki spun around, splattering a little broth on the floor.
“This has been going on since high school?” she asked, baffled.
“Uh, yeah,” Katsuki responded, sounding more than a little confused now.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Mitsuki shrieked, pointing at her son with a wooden spoon.
“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just names. We’ve known each other for years. He’s my best friend,” Katsuki shot back, moving the spoon away from his face.
“Oh.” Mitsuki was now the one to sound confused.
“What?” Katsuki asked.
“So you two aren’t finally dating?” Katsuki’s face turned a shade of red comparable to a tomato.
“No! We aren’t fucking dating!” he hollered.
“Then we misunderstood,” Masaru cut in, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s just you two have always been so close. We thought this was a sign.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.
“I am not dating Kirishima. And this is the end of this discussion,” he said, pointing to his mother. “I’m going to go finish this email. Call me when dinner’s ready,” Katsuki grumbled as he walked away.
“Told you we should have left it,” Masaru said once his son had left earshot.
“Oh shush, you.”