Work Text:
Katsuki pushes open his apartment door, a little too hard–it hits the wall with a loud thud. He steps inside and shuts it, a bit more carefully to make up for the initial slam. Even though he’s probably alerted Shouto of his arrival (and his current mood), he grunts out a tadaima just out of habit anyway. His boyfriend’s response comes immediately from somewhere in their bedroom, distant and muffled.
He quickly shirks out of his gauntlets and his boots in the genkan before striding into the apartment and into their kitchen. He drags the kitchen stool back and aggressively seats himself on it, rests his elbows on the counter, and drops his face into his palms with a long exhale.
He hears the uneven steps of bare feet padding toward him and feels Shouto come to stand behind. He doesn’t ask Katsuki why he’s home wearing his hero costume instead of changing at the office-or why he’s upset or anything, really; probably doesn’t have to ask. Since he’s stuck at home out of commission until tomorrow ‘coz of his busted knee and mild concussion, he probably watched the whole thing go down on the news anyway. It’s a bit of a relief and he’s grateful.
Gentle but strong hands come up to unclip his head pieces, lingering to smoothen out the currently grimy strands. Katsuki finds himself immediately relaxing as one of Shouto’s hands lower to the back of his neck and rubs out a few knots after pulling off the neck brace. After a quick comforting pat between his shoulder blades, Shouto steps away much to his dismay, and limps around the counter. Katsuki rubs both his eyes with his fingers and finally lifts his face out of his hands, crossing his arms on thecounter and resting his chin on them; he can watch Shouto better this way.
His boyfriend rummages around in the fridge before pulling out two containers of food. He shuffles over and pulls out a bowl, transferring some of the leftover rice and curry Katsuki had made yesterday into it, and places it in the microwave. As the bowl begins to heat and spin, Shouto turns around and leans down over the counter across from him in an attempt to mimic Katsuki’s position, though he has to bend down significantly, the tall bastard, and offers a small, affectionate smile.
“Hey,” he says softly, straightening up once more, clearly not able to stick to the uncomfortable position, and reaches forward to sweep away a strand of hair hanging over Katsuki’s eyes.
“Did’ya watch it happen?” he asks quietly, the anger, frustration, and general whirlwind of negative emotions regarding the whole incident bubbling up in him again.
The small smile on Shouto’s face doesn’t falter but the look behind his eyes changes slightly; the affection is still there but now there’s a hint of concern, care. There was a time Katsuki had mistaken it for pity but he knows better now.
“Yes I did,” he responds softly, dropping his hand from Katsuki’s hair to his arm, rubbing it lightly with his thumb.
Katsuki lets out a shaky exhale, pushing back up to rest his elbows on the counter again. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyeballs in an attempt to shove back the hint of moisture gathering behind his eyelids. The microwave beeps three times and he hears his boyfriend shuffle over to pull out the food. The bowl scrapes across the countertop and the sound of a drawer opening is heard. He peaks out of his hands once he deems the tears under control and sees the steaming bowl with a pair of chopsticks resting on top set in front of him.
“You should eat first, Kat,” Shouto tells him softly.
He doesn’t feel like eating, more nauseous than anything honestly, but he does as he’s told, pulling the food closer and taking a bite. That’s enough to convince his body that he is hungry. It’s been a long fucking day. He chews and takes a few more bites as Shouto returns to his side of the kitchen island and takes a seat next to him.
“You not eating?” He asks between bites and glances over; Shouto is seated facing him, turning fully in his direction that his knees poke against the side of Katsuki’s thighs. His head is tilted to one side, cheek resting on his palm as he watches Katsuki eat like a fucking weirdo.
“Not really hungry. I kinda ate a lot today already.”
Katsuki stops eating and narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. “You finished that whole pack of matcha pocky, didn’t you?’
Shouto’s eyes widen only slightly, caught. “Possibly.”
“Dumbass, you gotta eat real fucking meals, how many times do I have to tell you?”
“I do Kat, I was just snacking while I was working on some research for one of our cases and the next thing I knew, I’d eaten it all.”
Katsuki snorts. Of course.
He continues to eat and Shouto continues to watch, occasionally reaching out with his free hand to rub his thigh or brush his hair away from his face again.
He takes the last bite and gets up to wash the dish but Shouto gets up with him, snatching the bowl right out of his fucking hands.
“You’re the one that’s supposed to be resting his goddamn knee, you know that right?”
Shouto ignores him and makes his way around to the sink with his little limp. “It gets stiff if I don’t use it.”
Okay, fine, he’ll let it slide, then. This time. He sits back down in his seat, stomach content and hangriness satiated. But without the act of eating to distract his thoughts, snippets of the fucked up incident of the day flood back to the forefront of his mind.
“I just wish I’d been better, Shou,” he admits quietly, the sound of the running water drowning out some of the cracks in his voice as Shouto washes the bowl and the empty Tupperwares. His boyfriend looks up at him to acknowledge the words, silently waiting for Katsuki to say more. “If I hadn’t wasted time with that water quirk fucker, I’d have gotten to the kid sooner and she’d still have her fucking leg.” The words taste bitter in his mouth. A glass of water is slid toward him and he takes a huge gulp. “I just-I should’ve done better.” He finishes shortly. It’s all he can fucking say about it right now.
Shouto sets the washed dishes aside on the drying rack and shuts off the tap. The room is silent for a bit.
“I think we can all always do better- be better. That’s what you taught me,” is Shouto’s eventual response. Katsuki swallows thickly and nods, eyes staring down at the countertop. “In the end, you did save her, Kat. And I’m not going to stand here and tell you that there’s nothing else you could have done because there’s always something else; a better way we could’ve done things when we look back on it later. I know that’s what you’re thinking about now. But at the end of the day you saved her, and she’s alive because of you.”
Katsuki looks up to meet the soft gaze, the soft smile. “Yeah.”
Shouto comes back around again to stand behind Katsuki once more. Warm and cold hands come to rest on his shoulders before sliding down and around his neck, lips pressing against his right cheek. The shitty tears start burning his eyes again and he grips Shouto’s forearms with a hand and squeezes. A silent thanks.
“We’ve been Pros for like four fucking years now, I hate that this shit still gets to me,” he admits, voice hoarse with suppressed emotions.
The lips pressed against his cheek leave a tender kiss and he feels them tickle his skin as Shouto says, “I’d be more concerned if it didn’t. You’re always learning and striving to be better and it’s inspiring as fuck.” Katsuki lets out a wet chuckle at Shouto’s relatively rare instance of cussing. His boyfriend straightens up, gently massaging his shoulders. “You’re gonna learn from this too and be better next time. But that doesn’t change that you are the best, Kat.”
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and counts to three, and releases. “Yeah…yeah. Still, fucking sucks butt though.”
“Yes, still fucking sucks butt,” Shouto echoes in assent, pulling another light chuckle from Katsuki.
A hand lifts off his shoulder and threads through his bangs again, brushing them back off his forehead while gently nudging his head to tip back against the solid chest. Heterochromatic eyes look down at him upside down. “You’re going to see her at the hospital tomorrow right?”
“…yeah, I want to. Make sure she’s alright. Talk to the parents…”
“Do you want me to come with?”
“No…no. I think I wanna go alone.”
Shouto smiles. “Okay.” Katsuki closes his eyes as his boyfriend presses one last kiss on his exposed forehead before letting his hair flop back over. “I just filled the bath to soak in,” he gestures at his bad knee, “care to join me after you rinse off in the shower?”
Katsuki finally finds it in himself to grin, heart feeling much lighter. Only Shouto can tell him these things he needs to hear, no sugarcoating or beating around the bush-only facts and the truth. But it’s never unkind. Fuck, he loves this man. It’s gonna be okay. He’ll be okay.
“Only if you let me strip you first.” he tries for a teasing tone despite some heaviness still lingering.
It’s Shouto’s turn to chuckle, soft and fond. “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way,”