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Look, it’s not that Katsuki doesn’t know that Shouto’s objectively incredibly hot, OK? He’s not a fucking moron. Shit, it’s one of the reasons he’s dating the asshole – not in the top three, but definitely a nice-to-have. And it’s not that Katsuki doesn’t know that other people – lots of other people – share his assessment of Shouto’s incredible hotness. It would have been hard to miss the endless parade of extras of all gender configurations blushing and simpering their way past him in the corridors in the year and change between Katsuki meeting Shouto and Katsuki taking Shouto for himself, not to mention the ridiculous pile of chocolates on Shouto’s desk on Valentine’s Day, which Shouto regarded with bafflement and then shared with every fucking extra in the class. Katsuki knows all that shit. He even knows that when Shouto looks happy, he becomes – somehow, implausibly – even hotter, although that knowledge wasn’t particularly relevant before they started dating, since the po-faced bastard could barely manage anything resembling an expression, let alone a full-on smile.
Katsuki knows all this. The issue is that Katsuki never really thought about the fact that none of it would change after they started dating. He certainly never imagined that it would get worse.
The thing is, Shouto’s hotness and all the shit that comes along with it was pretty much academic to Katsuki for the first six months or so he knew the bastard, then infuriating for the next five, then pure fucking torture for the three months between when Katsuki was forced to admit to himself that he had a crush the size of fucking Jupiter and when Katsuki finally conquered Mt Todoroki. (Admittedly, that makes it sound more heroic than what it really was, which was Katsuki asking Shouto on a date and Shouto saying yes, but fuck, it was really fucking hard for Katsuki to ask that idiot on a date, OK? Shut the fuck up.) Anyway, the point is that during the period of time when Katsuki was working on the whole conquer-Mt-Todoroki plan, he never really thought about what it might be like after they started dating. Or, no, he did, but what he imagined was just a bright, blissful blur that somehow occupied all his waking thoughts while simultaneously seeming like an impossible fucking dream.
As it turns out, life in the post Mt-Todoroki world is not a bright, blissful blur.
That’s not to say it’s not great, because it fucking is, not that Katsuki would admit that to anyone at all ever, except maybe Kirishima and only then after swearing him to secrecy. Dating Shouto – holding Shouto’s hand when no-one’s looking, kissing Shouto goodnight, spending time with Shouto in comfortable silence – it’s all somehow happening to Katsuki even though it still seems impossible and it’s better than anything Katsuki imagined. But it’s not a bright, blissful blur. For one thing, other people still exist in the post Mt-Todoroki world, and that – well, that’s sometimes kind of a problem.
For another thing, Shouto is happy. It’s not that Katsuki objects to Shouto being happy – fuck, he has to fight not to smile like a fucking moron every time he sees that soft look on Shouto’s dumb stupid face – and he definitely doesn’t object to the fact that it’s dating Katsuki that seems to have made Shouto happy, fuck, if that isn’t the world’s biggest ego-boost. But the thing is that when Shouto is happy, he’s – somehow, implausibly – even hotter, and that? Yeah, that’s kind of a problem, too.
****
“Um, bro?” says Kirishima, staring at something across the other side of the cafeteria. “You’re still dating Todoroki, right?”
“Hah?” Katsuki looks up from his lunch. “The fuck kind of question is that?” Like he’s ever gonna stop dating Shouto. What moron would do that?
“Just – I think someone’s trying to snipe your man,” Kirishima says.
Katsuki’s head snaps round, following Kirishima’s line of sight. There, holding a tray and wearing a happy glow, is Shouto. And there, standing in front of Shouto, is some extra Katsuki has never fucking seen before. A fucking pretty extra, not that Katsuki gives a shit about women – about anyone except Todoroki fucking Shouto – but he can appreciate hotness when he sees it. She’s smiling shyly, tucking her hair – fucking long silky blonde hair, fuck – behind her ear, and as Katsuki watches, chest expanding in rage, she reaches up and touches Shouto’s cheek.
Katsuki rockets to his feet, ignoring Kirishima’s attempts to grab his arm, and stalks across the cafeteria, extras parting before him like grass in the wind. He reaches Shouto’s side, glares at him, then turns and glares at the extra. She blinks, eyes wide.
“I was just coming over--” Shouto starts.
“Shut up,” says Katsuki. “The fuck do you want?”
The extra cringes slightly. “Oh, I – I have to go, anyway. It was nice to meet you!” And she scuttles off to wherever the fuck extras go when they’re not busy getting in Katsuki’s fucking way.
Katsuki watches to make sure she’s really gone, then rounds on Shouto. “The fuck was that?”
Shouto’s frowning a little. “What?” he said.
Katsuki makes a simpering face and pretends – possibly a little violently – to tuck his hair behind his ear.
Shouto stares at him. “Do you feel all right?” he says. “You look nauseated.”
“No, I don’t feel all right!” Katsuki says. “Why the fuck was that extra touching you?”
Shouto scrunches his face up in concern, because apparently he’s doing expressions now and they’re all fucking adorable, fucking hell. “She said I had an eyelash,” he says. “Do you want to go to the nurse--”
And then Katsuki grabs him by the elbow and starts dragging him across the room. He drags him all the way back to his table, shoves him into the seat next to Kirishima, and flicks him in the ear.
“Eat your food and shut up,” he says, flinging himself down in front of his own food.
Shouto looks bewildered – adorably bewildered, Katsuki fucking hates him – and Kirishima pats him on the shoulder.
No-one else comes near their table for the rest of lunch.
****
There are two problems here. One is that Shouto is, objectively, incredibly hot. The other is that he’s fucking dumb and has no idea when people are hitting on him. And people hit on him a lot. It’s not like Katsuki didn’t notice people hitting on Shouto before they were dating – he really did, especially in those last three terrible months – but it’s like – he feels like it’s happening more now. Or that the people who hit on Shouto hit on him for longer. It’s like they’re trying to piss Katsuki off or something.
“It’s because he keeps looking happy at people,” Kirishima says. “Before he just used to stare. It put people off.”
“He’s happy because of me, not because of those assholes!” Katsuki says. How dare those fucking bastards think that glow is for them. It’s not for them, no-one gets to have that except Katsuki. He made that happen and he’s taking all the fucking proceeds.
Kirishima shrugs. “They don’t know that. Maybe you should be more obvious about it.”
“About what?” Katsuki says. He’s not exactly fucking subtle, so he has no idea what Kirishima’s yapping about.
“You know,” Kirishima says. “About the fact that you’re together.”
“Hah? Everyone fucking knows we’re together!”
“Everyone in 2-A, sure,” says Kirishima, sounding so reasonable, the bastard. “But you’re not exactly into PDA, bro. How are strangers supposed to know when half the time you refuse to be even seen in the same prefecture as him?”
Katsuki growls. “What the fuck? They think he’s single?” Can’t they see the flashing neon sign over Icy Hot’s head that says Property of Bakugou Katsuki, touch me and die???
“Well, yeah, probably,” says Kirishima.
Katsuki snaps his pencil. “Fucking – assholes, I’ll fucking kill them all.”
“Maybe just hold hands with your boyfriend instead, dude. It’s probably less hassle.”
****
Katsuki does not want to hold hands with his fucking boyfriend.
OK, that’s not completely true. Katsuki’s holding hands with his boyfriend right now, lying side-by-side with him on his lumpy-ass futon, staring at the ceiling. It feels fucking great, which kind of pisses Katsuki off, but since he mostly feels great, it’s a little hard to work up a proper rage, which also kind of pisses him off. Anyway, the point is, he doesn’t hate holding hands with Shouto (which kind of pisses him off), but if he holds hands with Shouto in public then people are gonna – fucking look at him and think he’s the kind of dude who holds hands with his boyfriend in public. He has a fucking reputation to maintain. Does the number one hero hold hands with his boyfriend in public? Fucking no. To be fair, the number one hero is Endeavour, and Katsuki actually kind of wishes his brain hadn’t gone there, but--
“Katsuki,” Shouto says, turning on his side to look at him. “Are you all right?”
“Hah? Yeah, I’m fucking – peachy.”
Then Shouto’s touching his face, his fucking eyebrows for some reason, smoothing them like he’s petting a fucking cat.
“You’re frowning a lot,” Shouto says. “You’ll give yourself a headache.”
“The fuck?” Katsuki says. “Are you trying to stop me frowning with your hands?”
Shouto rubs his fingers along Katsuki’s forehead. Wow, that actually feels good. Shouto is such an asshole.
“It’s working,” Shouto says.
“You are so fucking weird.”
“Oh, sorry,” Shouto says, not looking sorry in the slightest and still kind of weirdly massaging Katsuki’s face. Fuck, how is this happening to Katsuki? How did any of this happen to Katsuki?
“Shit,” Katsuki says, and grabs Shouto’s head to pull him down for a kiss.
****
OK, so Kirishima’s whole PDA thing is definitely not happening, but Katsuki needs an alternative plan, something that will solve the whole people keep hitting on Katsuki’s boyfriend issue. He considers his options and decides on the most straightforward: a campaign of terror. Or of intimidation, anyway.
Katsuki’s walking back from class with Kirishima and Dunce Face when the first skirmish takes place. Shouto’s up ahead with his nerd squad friends, far enough away that Katsuki can pretend they don’t even know each other, which is all fine except when a guy Katsuki vaguely recognises from the third year hero course appears suddenly and starts walking with them. Katsuki wonders if one of the nerds knows this guy – he’s tall, broad-shouldered, kind of hot in an annoying buttoned-up way, so maybe friends with Four-Eyes – but the guy only seems to be interested in talking to Shouto. Actually – fuck, he’s not just talking to Shouto, he’s fucking herding Shouto, somehow managing to direct their course so that he and Shouto are splitting off from the main group.
Oh, hell no.
Katsuki’s already storming in their direction when he sees the bastard put his hand on Shouto’s arm and genuinely, literally sees red.
“Hey, asshole!” Katsuki yells, barging in between the guy and Shouto and body-checking the guy out of the way. “Paws off!”
“Excuse me?” says the asshole. He looks down his nose at Katsuki – he’s taller than him, fuck, that’s annoying – and straightens his tie. “This is a private conversation.”
“Like hell,” says Katsuki, minor explosions going off in his palm. “Get fucked.”
“Katsuki, what--?” Shouto starts, and Katsuki rounds on him.
“The fuck is this, anyway, Icy Hot?” he snarls. “You’ll just fucking talk to anyone, is that it?”
Shouto blinks at him. “I – yes?” he says. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t talk to anyone?”
Katsuki lets out a frustrated growl and shoves Shouto back in the direction of his stupid friends, who are now all standing and staring at him. Kirishima’s staring, too. Let them fucking stare. He’s only taking what’s his. Behind him, he hears the third-year asshole make some kind of protest, and he gives him the finger without even looking back.
Later on, Kirishima tells him he was kind of intense there, dude and Shouto acts wary around him, which feels actually fucking weird and frustrating, so the first skirmish doesn’t really go that great, overall. But at least Shouto isn’t sucking face with some asshole third year right now, so – mission accomplished, Katsuki guesses.
****
The second, third, and fourth skirmishes in Katsuki’s campaign of terror are all successful in the sense that Shouto does not end up making out with (a) the guy from the support course, (b) the girl from 1-B, or (c) Monoma’s older sister who shows up for Family Day and is just as much of a fuckwad as her brother. On the other hand, Katsuki feels constantly on edge, watching Shouto all the time in case someone starts hitting on him, and what’s more – what really pisses Katsuki off – Shouto himself starts acting weird. Like, OK, Shouto always acts weird, which Katsuki actually kind of likes even though he’d never admit that to anyone except maybe Kirishima, but the kind of weird Shouto normally acts – saying bizarre things, doing whatever the fuck he feels like, not giving a shit at all about what anyone else thinks – is different from the kind of weird he’s acting now. He seems tense, uptight, even a little jumpy, which is so far out of character for Shouto that it’s practically in another galaxy. And – he’s not really glowing any more. Fuck, Katsuki hates that. Like, somehow he survived a year and change of knowing Shouto without even knowing that Shouto could glow, but now that he’s seen it happen, the idea of going without it is – fucking terrible. Fucking terrible is what it is.
They’re out getting snacks, Katsuki in the junk food aisle glaring at the dayglo cornchips Dunce Face insisted he get, Shouto somewhere else – probably staring wistfully at a shelf of soba, the moron – when Katsuki becomes aware that someone’s talking.
“That’s the UA uniform, isn’t it?”
Katsuki pricks up his ears. Whoever it is – a guy, deep voice – they’re in the next aisle, talking to someone wearing a UA uniform. Katsuki is pretty damn sure there’s only one person in this grocery store wearing a UA uniform apart from Katsuki himself, and that’s--
“Yeah,” says Shouto’s voice, and Katsuki stands up straighter, staring at the shelf of chips in front of him and praying to suddenly develop X-ray vision.
“Are you on the hero course?”
“Yeah,” says Shouto again, sounding completely uninterested.
“Take a fucking hint,” Katsuki mutters.
“Amazing,” says the asshole. “I think I’ve seen you on TV. I wouldn’t forget a face like yours.”
“Yeah, my scar makes me very recognisable,” says Shouto in a bored-sounding monotone.
“That’s not what I meant, actually,” says the asshole. There’s a rustling sound. “You’re a very attractive young man. I actually work as a fashion photographer. Catalogues, you know. I wondered if you’d be willing to--”
Katsuki drops the biohazard corn chips on the floor and flings himself down the aisle, rounding the corner so fast he knocks some pocky off the shelf and finding a guy, maybe in his fifties, standing way too close to Shouto, tucking something into Shouto’s shirt pocket with this smile on his face that makes Katsuki want to murder something. Preferably the owner of the smile.
“Katsuki?” says Shouto, and then Katsuki barrels into them, grabs Shouto round the waist, and pulls him in close to his side.
“He’s fucking taken,” he says.
The asshole raises his eyebrows. “You don’t seem too secure about that.”
Katsuki feels his eyes start bulging. “I’ll fucking kill you--” he starts, and the asshole backs away, hands up, laughing.
“Hey, you have my card,” he says to Shouto. “Call me if you’re interested.”
Then he strolls off like he didn’t just hit on Katsuki’s boyfriend like a fucking creepster.
“He’s sixteen, you sick fuck,” Katsuki yells after him, but all he gets in response is a knowing glance over the asshole’s shoulder. Katsuki growls, pulling Shouto closer, and Shouto hugs him back.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to do this in public?”
“Hah?” says Katsuki, and then realises what he’s doing. He shoves Shouto away, hard enough that he stumbles into the soba display – because of course that’s where he was standing, fuck, that’s fucking adorable and Katsuki absolutely does not want to find Shouto adorable right now. “You fucking moron! Didn’t anyone ever teach you about stranger danger?”
Shouto straightens up and picks up a couple packets of soba off the floor, restoring them to the shelf. “No,” he says. “What’s that?”
Katsuki slaps his hand over his face. Of course, this asshole barely left his fucking palatial mansion for his whole fucking life, of course he doesn’t know basic fucking fundamental facts about human interaction.
“Give me that,” Katsuki says, digging in Shouto’s shirt pocket and pulling out the asshole’s card. He makes careful note of the name in case he needs to report it to the cops one day, then blows the card up in front of Shouto’s face.
“What was that for?” Shouto asks.
“You know what that asshole wanted, right?”
“He wanted to take some photographs of me,” says Shouto.
“Fuck,” growls Katsuki, then grabs Shouto’s arm. “We’re going home.”
“Did you get Kaminari’s chips?”
“Fuck that idiot.”
Shouto falls silent.
He doesn’t speak again until they get back to the dorms.
****
After that, Katsuki’s seriously on edge. He knows Shouto can take care of himself, he knows it. Except – he doesn’t really know it. Obviously, in any situation involving villains or violence, Shouto will be fucking fine, but if someone’s creeping on him, will Shouto even figure it out? He’s like a fucking infant sometimes, just goes along with whatever other people want, fuck, someone could probably persuade him into bed with them just by being hot and nice to him. Fuck knows, Katsuki managed it and he’s not even fucking nice (although he is pretty hot). Never mind fucking creepy fake photographers, there’s plenty of people out there – plenty of people at UA – who would probably legitimately be great fucking partners for Shouto. If Shouto realises that other people could give him everything Katsuki gives him except without being a raging asshole, that’ll be game over for Katsuki. Shit. Shit.
It’s the next morning that things really come to a head, though. It’s Saturday, and Katsuki’s coming back from his morning jog when he sees a familiar figure standing on the steps of the dorm. Shouto. And he’s not alone. There’s a guy there, short guy, wearing a hoodie and standing with his back to Katsuki, and as Katsuki watches, said asshole guy fucking leans forward and hugs Shouto. And Shouto – hugs back, shit. Shit.
Katsuki puts on a burst of speed, surging up the steps and grabbing hold of the back of the guy’s hoodie, jerking him sharply away from Shouto and--
--and it’s fucking Deku. It’s Deku, it’s fucking Deku, staring at Katsuki in surprise, arms still half-outstretched like he hasn’t realised yet that he’s not hugging Shouto any more.
“Kacchan?” Deku says. “Are you all right?”
“Fuck,” Katsuki says, and turns back to Shouto.
But Shouto’s already gone, the door of the dorm closing quietly behind him. Katsuki stares. Something’s – not right with him and Shouto. Something’s not right, and Katsuki’s suddenly fucking – he’s not fucking scared, he’s fucking angry. He’s fucking angry. Because Shouto’s acting – weird and it’s not – good any more like it was before, and Katsuki doesn’t fucking get it.
“Kacchan?” Deku says.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki growls, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to stomp away into the woods. But Deku catches at his arm.
“Kacchan,” he says, with that tone of voice that he only ever gets when he thinks he’s about to save someone, the self-righteous asshole. “We need to talk.”
****
“I’m worried about Shouto,” Deku says. He’s sitting on a tree stump, fidgeting in his annoying Deku way. Katsuki, leaning against a tree with his hand in his pockets, curls his lip.
“Because he’s dating me, you mean?”
“No,” Deku says. “I actually – I thought it was good, that he was dating you. You both seemed so happy.”
Katsuki doesn’t miss the past tense. “Then what?”
“He says he thinks you’re going to break up with him,” Deku says.
“Hah?” Katsuki stands up straight, glaring at Deku. “The fuck, why would he fucking think that?”
“Because you’re always angry with him?” Deku says. “I mean – that’s what he thinks. I told him that’s just you, but--” He shrugs. “You’re not, though. Going to break up with him, I mean.”
“Is that a fucking question?”
“No,” Deku says. “Just an observation.”
Katsuki shakes his head. Fucking Deku, what the fuck. “I’m not always angry with him. He thinks that? Why does he fucking think that?”
“I don’t know,” Deku says. “Maybe you should try talking to him about it instead of me.”
“Fuck off,” says Katsuki. He’s not really thinking about Deku any more. He’s thinking about Shouto, about how he’s stopped glowing. Did Katsuki do that? Shit, this whole boyfriend thing is fucking hard.
Deku gets to his feet. “Please talk to him,” he says. “I hate seeing you both so unhappy.”
“Hah?” Katsuki says, because he’s not – unhappy, fuck, what is Deku even fucking talking about?
But Deku’s gone.
****
It takes Katsuki all day to work up the nerve to go tell Shouto what’s what. In that time, he doesn’t see the asshole once. Not once, all day, even though Katsuki’s hanging around the common room like a charity case hoping that maybe he’ll appear and somehow everything will be solved without Katsuki having to do anything.
Lunch comes and goes. By dinner, Shouto still hasn’t appeared, and everything is not solved.
Katsuki stands up, staring at the door to the stairs with determination.
“Yeah,” Kirishima says, slapping him on the back. “I know you can do it.” Which is kind of weird, because Katsuki hasn’t actually talked to Kirishima about any of this, but fuck, Katsuki doesn’t care about that right now. All Katsuki cares about is that door. The door to the stairs.
He steps forward.
Somehow, he makes it all the way across the common room, through the door, up the stairs, and finds himself standing outside Shouto’s room, hand raised to knock. He has no idea why this is so difficult. He’s knocked on Shouto’s door plenty of times before. Hell, he’s barged through Shouto’s door without knocking plenty of times before. But somehow-- Somehow--
Katsuki knocks.
“Come in,” comes Shouto’s voice from inside.
Katsuki pushes the door open and stands in the doorway. Shouto’s sitting at his desk, looking round to see who it is. When he sees Katsuki, he turns all the way round in the chair, fixing Katsuki with an unblinking stare.
“We need to talk,” Katsuki says.
Shouto – already looking tense enough to snap – somehow gets even stiffer. “I see,” he says. And Katsuki remembers what Deku said: he thinks you’re going to break up with him.
“Fuck, you fucking moron,” Katsuki says, coming into the room and shutting the door. “I’m not fucking here to break up with you.” He slumps down onto the futon, crossing his legs and wondering what the fuck he actually did come here to do.
Shouto gets – a little less tense. But only a little. “Oh,” he says. “That’s good.”
Katsuki stares at him. His heart feels like it’s beating in his throat. Fuck, he feels like shit.
“Do you – wanna break up with me?” he asks.
A frown flits across Shouto’s face. “No,” he says. “Why would I want to break up with you?”
“I don’t know,” Katsuki says. “Deku says you think I’m an asshole.”
The frown returns. “Midoriya said that?”
Katsuki shrugs. “I mean, he said you think I’m angry with you all the time, which – I’m fucking not, so I don’t know where you’re getting that shit from. So yeah, that makes me an asshole, right?” Katsuki’s a fucking asshole, and Shouto – could have anyone. He could have anyone.
Shouto stares at him for a long moment before speaking. “You get angry every time I talk to someone who isn’t you.”
“Well, fucking duh,” Katsuki says. “They’re fucking hitting on you. Of course I’m fucking angry.”
“What?” Shouto says. “They’re not hitting on me.”
“How are you so stupid?” Katsuki asks, even though he knows how, he knows exactly how. “You think random strangers just wander up to each other all the time and strike up conversations with no ulterior motive?”
Shouto looks bewildered. “Yes?” he says. “It happens a lot.”
“To you,” Katsuki says. “Because you’re fucking hot and everybody wants in your fucking pants.”
Shouto opens his mouth again, but Katsuki leans forward, jabbing his finger in Shouto’s direction.
“Listen, Icy Hot, life fucking lesson right here. If someone you don’t know comes up to you and starts talking to you for no reason, they’re hitting on you. Especially if they smile a lot, or giggle, or touch your arm or fucking twirl their hair or what the fuck ever. Especially if they start randomly handing out compliments.”
Shouto blinks. He gets this look in his eye like he’s working his way through what Katsuki said, lips moving slightly.
“That – means they’re hitting on me?” he says at last.
“Fucking yes! Of course it fucking does!”
“Oh,” Shouto says. He stares into the middle distance for a moment. “People hit on me a lot,” he says, like it’s a brand new revelation.
“No fucking shit,” says Katsuki. “It’s fucking terrible.”
Shouto’s focus comes back to Katsuki, a slight frown on his face. “Why?”
“Because – you’re my boyfriend!” Katsuki says. “I don’t want fucking extras hitting on my boyfriend!”
Shouto shrugs. “What difference does it make?”
“Are you serious?”
But of course Shouto’s serious. Shouto’s always fucking serious. And always a fucking idiot.
“What if--” Katsuki says, and then can’t finish the sentence. “I don’t know, you’re so dumb. What if you don’t even notice they’re hitting on you and you end up fucking kissing or dating or whatever.” That’s stupid, he knows that’s stupid, but the alternative – that Shouto would just realise that the person hitting on him is significantly better dating material than Katsuki – is something he just can’t force out of his mouth.
“That’s ridiculous,” Shouto says, looking bewildered again, which is fair, because it fucking is ridiculous. Although if anyone could accidentally end up dating someone, it’s this fucking dumbass. Maybe that’s even what happened with Katsuki.
And then Shouto’s suddenly in front of him, kneeling on the tatami at the foot of the futon, his gaze steadily focused on Katsuki’s face.
“Katsuki,” he says. “I’m not interested in kissing or dating anyone except you.”
Katsuki swallows. “You don’t know that,” he mutters. “Not like you’ve dated anyone else.”
“So I have to date everyone in the world before I can be sure that I only want to date you?”
That – actually does sound kind of stupid. But still--
“Katsuki,” Shouto says, then takes Katsuki’s chin in his hand and presses their lips together. Katsuki actually can’t remember the last time they kissed. He’d forgotten how good it was. He puts his hand up to Shouto’s face, Shouto’s hair. Shouto puts a hand on the back of his neck, pulling Katsuki closer, and Katsuki shudders.
When they break apart, Shouto leans his forehead against Katsuki’s, hand still on the back of his neck.
“Are you sure you only want to date me?” he says.
“Of course, idiot,” Katsuki says.
A smile flickers around the edges of Shouto’s mouth. “Even though you haven’t dated everyone else in the world yet?”
“Shut up!” Katsuki says, grabbing Shouto and dragging him down onto the bed for some more kissing. By the time he’s done, Shouto looks kind of dazed. And glowing. He’s glowing, fuck, Katsuki did that. He did that.
Katsuki lies on his side and reaches out, running his hand across Shouto’s hair, feeling how smooth it is. “Don’t know why you’re fucking dating me in the first place,” he mutters.
Shouto catches his wrist, interlaces his fingers with Katsuki’s. “Because I want to,” he says, and that’s not – that’s not what Katsuki was expecting. He thought maybe Shouto would say because you asked. But he doesn’t say that. He says because I want to.
“OK, but seriously.” Katsuki props himself up on his elbow. “That guy at the grocery store yesterday was bad news. Catalogue photos, seriously?”
Shouto stares up at him. “He was hitting on me, too? Don’t you think he was a little old?”
“Exactly!” Katsuki says. “He was a fucking perv! Don’t talk to fucking strangers, it’s not safe.”
Shouto just stares at him for a few moments. Katsuki shifts, uncomfortable. “What?”
“I’m not a child,” Shouto says. “No-one’s going to make me do something I don’t want to do.”
Katsuki opens his mouth, but Shouto reaches up and presses a finger to his lips. “Not even you,” he says.
Katsuki doesn’t know what to say to that. He slumps back onto the pillow, glaring. “Fuck you. You think I can’t beat you in a fight?” Which doesn’t make total sense, but Katsuki’s feeling kind of fuzzy with all the kissing and shit.
Shouto raises an eyebrow. “You might be able to,” he says. “I’d give it 50:50 odds.”
“Asshole,” says Katsuki, and digs his fingers into Shouto’s ribs. Shouto knees Katsuki in the stomach – gently, Katsuki notes – and then there’s a minute or two of ridiculous, flailing wrestling on the futon before Katsuki finds himself on his back with Shouto on top of him, looking extremely fucking smug.
The smug expression disappears pretty fast, though, Shouto suddenly looking serious again.
“Does it really bother you when people hit on me?” he says.
“Fucking – yeah,” Katsuki says. “I just – want you to be mine. You’re fucking mine.”
Shouto stares down at him, mouth slightly open. He looks dazed again, which is weird, because they haven’t even been kissing.
Katsuki shifts, unease in his stomach. “Right?” he says.
Shouto lunges towards him, kissing Katsuki frantically, and Katsuki – after a moment of surprise – kisses back, feeling kind of desperate, and then just feeling kind of amazing. By the time they part, gasping, Shouto’s the one on his back with Katsuki on top. Katsuki reaches down and cups Shouto’s cheek. Shouto stares up at him like he’s never seen him before.
“I’m yours,” he whispers.
And wow, as it turns out, Katsuki really likes hearing that.
****
So anyway, they work shit out, and things are good again. Shouto’s glowing all over the place, Deku keeps giving Katsuki approving looks – which, fuck Deku, Katsuki doesn’t give a shit about his approval – and Kirishima slaps Katsuki on the back a lot, but he does that anyway, so whatever. And that’s all fine, until a day maybe a week later, when Shouto and Katsuki are in the park near UA, sitting on adjacent benches, Katsuki reading, Shouto napping or some shit. Napping, that is, until someone comes over and stands next to Shouto.
“Excuse me,” the someone – a guy, looks like a college student, scruffy clothes, dumb haircut – says. “Is this seat taken?”
“No,” says Shouto, even though there’s, like, a million empty benches scattered around the park.
College Asshole sits down. Katsuki glares at his book. He had a long talk with Kirishima about trust and emotional control and not murdering people just because they’re talking to your boyfriend, but even so, he’s seriously considering punching College Asshole right now.
“That’s a nice sweatshirt,” says College Asshole. “Where’d you get it?”
“Oh,” says Shouto. “You’re hitting on me.”
College Asshole makes a slight, surprised noise. Katsuki sneers. Shouto may be a fucking idiot, but he’s a quick study.
“Well – yeah,” says College Asshole.
“Thank you, but I have a boyfriend,” Shouto says, for some reason neglecting to mention that said boyfriend is right fucking there, thank you very much.
“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. “I mean, since he’s not here, we could still have a little fun--”
Katsuki flings his book to the ground, launches himself to his feet, takes the two steps over to the other bench and jams his lips against Shouto’s. He shoves his tongue into Shouto’s mouth, hauling Shouto to his feet at the same time and pulling him close, clamping one hand on Shouto’s ass. And Shouto – kisses back just as fiercely, grabbing at Katsuki’s hair, at the back of his neck. It’s breathtaking – literally, Katsuki having to break away to catch his breath after only a short while. He turns to glare College Asshole, who’s standing now, look nervous.
“Back off, fuckhead,” Katsuki says. “This one’s mine.”
“Oh, uh – yeah,” College Asshole says, backing away. “Sorry.”
Katsuki turns back to Shouto to find him looking – weird. Like, glowing, but even more so, with this kind of hunger in his eyes.
“What did you say?” Shouto says, his voice a low rumble that makes something stir in Katsuki’s belly.
It takes a moment for Katsuki to realise what he said, but when he does, he starts to have a sudden suspicion.
“I said you’re mine, Icy Hot,” he says.
And Shouto grabs his face and smashes their lips together, and that’s when Katsuki figures out that maybe Shouto doesn’t actually mind him being possessive that much, after all. And that’s such a fucking blinder of a revelation that Katsuki doesn’t even really notice that he’s making out with his boyfriend in the middle of a public park where anyone could see.
Maybe some things are more important than his reputation, anyway.
****
“Why are you so against PDA anyway, dude?” Kirishima asks.
“It’s fucking disgusting,” says Katsuki, throwing his notebook at Dunce Face, who’s started making kissy noises.
“It doesn’t have to be, like, full on making out in public,” Kirishima says. “You could just hold his hand or whatever.”
“Why do you even care?”
Kirishima shrugs. “You keep bitching about people hitting on him.”
“Yeah, well they shouldn’t fucking hit on him!” Katsuki says. Not that the last time someone hit on him ended badly exactly, but still. “Anyway, I’ve got a fucking reputation to uphold.”
“What, a reputation for being a dick to your boyfriend?” Dunce Face asks. Katsuki looks around for something else to throw at him and settles for an eraser.
“It’s fucking unprofessional,” he says. “You’d never catch fucking Endeavour holding hands with his boyfriend in public.”
“Wait, Endeavour has a boyfriend?” says Kirishima.
“No! That’s not the fucking point!”
“Why are we measuring normal behaviour by what Endeavour does, anyway?” says Dunce Face. “All Might would definitely hold hands with his boyfriend in public.”
“No, he--” Katsuki starts, and then stops, because – fuck. Dunce Face is fucking right for once. Why did Katsuki never think of that before?
“Anyway, you know--” Kirishima says, and then trails off.
“No, I don’t know.” Katsuki scowls down at his homework, deciding for the umpteenth time that having friends is more fucking trouble than it’s worth.
“Just – I think he’d like it too, you know? Todoroki, I mean. Sometimes he looks kind of lonely.”
“Hah?” says Katsuki.
“I’m just saying, bro,” Kirishima says, raising his hands in supplication and looking like he’s ready to duck.
But Katsuki doesn’t have anything left to throw.
****
The next time it happens, things are – a little different. For one, as soon as the girl from the business course walks over to where Shouto’s sitting in the cafeteria with his nerds, Shouto glances over to Katsuki, like he’s checking to see if he’s looking. Which Katsuki is – even though he’s pretty sure now that Shouto’s not just going to swoon into the arms of the first person who’s nice to him, it’s become a habit, to keep glancing over at him, checking where he is, making sure it’s all good. So he likes looking at his implausibly hot boyfriend, so fucking sue him. But anyway, this time it’s clear: Shouto absolutely knows that this girl’s about to hit on him. And then--
--he doesn’t do anything about it. The girl smiles at him, looking nervous, and Shouto – Shouto somehow smiles back, the fuck, even with all his happy glowing that he does now, smiling is still a rarity. Katsuki swears he witnesses five people falling in love right in that moment, and then he’s on his feet, striding over, and Shouto’s turning towards him before he’s halfway there, getting out of his seat, that smile, that glow, something expectant about him.
Katsuki arrives, throws his arm around Shouto’s waist, and glares at the girl, her expression now frozen in a confused-looking smile.
“We’re leaving,” Katsuki says to Shouto, and then, to the girl, “He’s fucking taken, tell your fucking friends.”
He marches Shouto out of the cafeteria, down the hall, and into the nearest bathroom, shoving him into a toilet stall, locking the door, and slamming him against the wall.
“You did that on purpose, you asshole.”
“Yeah,” Shouto breathes.
“What the fuck for?”
“So you’d come get me.”
“The fuck?” says Katsuki, then shoves Shouto again and grabs his face, bringing him down for a kiss. “Don’t do that fucking shit! You’re fucking mine!”
“Yeah,” Shouto whispers against his lips. “Yeah.”
And that’s when Katsuki realises he’s accidentally handed Shouto a loaded gun with his name on it.
****
“If it really bothers you, I won’t do it again,” Shouto says later. They’re in Katsuki’s room, Shouto sitting on the floor studying, Katsuki playing some stupid phone game with Kirishima, who’s supposedly also studying next door.
“Why’d you even want to do it in the first place?” Katsuki asks, carefully avoiding the question of whether it really bothered him. Like – it kind of did? But not like before. Now it’s more like – it got him riled up, but maybe not completely in a bad way. He can’t stop thinking about the look on Shouto’s face, how he was waiting for Katsuki to come show everyone that Shouto’s his.
Shouto shrugs. “I liked it before, in the park,” he says. “I don’t know why. It feels good to--” His face creases. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It feels good. And you kissed me in public. You don’t usually do that.” He looks over his shoulder at Katsuki. “But not if it really bothers you, though.”
Katsuki loses the phone game and gives the wall between his and Kirishima’s room the finger. “Maybe I’ll just get hands off, he’s mine! tattooed on your forehead.”
He looks over to see that Shouto is staring at him, unblinking, mouth slightly open.
“I’m not fucking serious, idiot,” Katsuki says.
It turns out, though, that Shouto doesn’t need him to be serious about the idea to find it really fucking appealing.
****
So, anyway, Katsuki’s an asshole, and he realises that and fully admits it. He’s not trying to change – why fucking bother, he’s pretty sure he’ll be an asshole for the rest of his life – but some things about being an asshole really get in Katsuki’s way, and he’s definitely up for doing those things differently, because he may be an asshole, but he’s a fucking efficient asshole.
And that’s how he finds himself up on the stage at the end of their second year, giving the speech because he has the best fucking scores in the year and that means people want to hear what he has to say. He’s already endured a lecture from fucking Aizawa about being appropriate, which he ignored, obviously, and he was forced to wear his fucking tie, which meant he had to find his fucking tie, which took way too long so now he’s feeling kind of irritable and rushed. He looks down at the audience, sees Kirishima give him the thumbs up.
“So I guess you want to hear something inspirational or whatever,” Katsuki says into the microphone. “But the truth is, I got the best scores because I’m smarter and harder working than the rest of you, so you’re all just going to have to live with that. Also, I’m dating Todoroki Shouto, so stop fucking hitting on him unless you want me to blow your faces off.”
There’s a stunned silence, then a general cacophony, which Katsuki ignores because who the fuck cares what all these assholes think? He drops the microphone, stalks off the stage to where Shouto’s sitting in the front row, and grabs him by the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. Shouto stares at him, eyes wide, and Katsuki kisses the fuck out of him, right there, just to make sure that the extras all get the message.
“Got it?” he says, pulling Shouto against him. “He’s mine!”
Kirishima gives him another thumbs up, smiling all over his stupid face.
Shouto’s smiling, too.
****
“Thank you,” Shouto says later. They’re walking across campus, hand in hand, and Shouto’s glowing so bright it’s almost hard for Katsuki to look at him.
“Don’t fucking thank me, idiot,” Katsuki says. “Just stating the fucking facts.”
Shouto smiles a little. It’s quiet. Then--
“I kind of hope someone does hit on me every now and then.”
Katsuki thinks about Shouto turning towards him, expectant. About how it felt to show everyone that Shouto is his.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”