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Katsuki never planned on running off into the sunset to get married.
And it’s not like he ever daydreamed about it during work or anything, making wedding boards on Pinterest or some shit like those girls from his middle school. It just fucking happened, okay?
In that split second, when Shouto had been buried under that collapsed building, still and pale and so so quiet, Katsuki had been so fucking terrified that that had been the end. Seeing him lying there in the hospital bed, blood seeping through the white bandages that covered him from head to toe while the heart monitor beeped steadily in the background had terrified the shit out of him.
When Shouto sluggishly blinked open mismatched eyes seven days later, no amount of breathing exercises could calm the erratic tattoo his heart had beat into his chest or quell the tears that sprung up in his eyes.
“Don’t fucking do that,” he choked through the constriction of his throat, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Shouto’s frail arm as gently as he could. “Don’t fucking scare me like again, Shou.”
Katsuki had never thought about running off into the sunset to get married but at that moment, he needed Shouto as close to his heart as possible. After coming so close to losing him…
He pulled Shouto into a kiss after that, coma breath and all, and had rasped in the space between their lips, “I need you to marry me, Princess. I need you to be mine because if something ever happened to you- fuck, Shou, please marry me.”
And Shouto’s eyes had widened and then overfilled with tears and then Shouto too was sobbing, “ Yes, Katsuki please.”
What followed after had been some of the sappiest shit that Katsuki had ever partaken in, stuff that he wouldn’t repeat even under threat of torture.
In summary, there had been a lot of kissing and a lot of crying and a lot of other assorted behaviors that had definitely been too fucking inappropriate for a hospital bed.
The day that Shouto was set to be released from the hospital, Katsuki stole control of his boyfriend’s wheelchair from a well meaning nurse, snarling at her as he pushed the chair to their car himself. He didn’t need help pushing his own boyfriend, thank you very fucking much. What, did she think he was a fucking inattentive weakling or some shit?
If they were married, he sulked, no one would ever again assume such stupid shit about them.
If they were married…
Well, why the fuck not? It was as good a time as any.
“We’re going right fucking now,” he proclaimed to Shouto as he helped him inside while trying not to aggravate his wounds further.
In response, Shouto did that stupid slow cat blink at him and then looked down at his hospital issued sweatshirt and pants with an expression of utter dismay. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”
“Who the fuck cares?” Katsuki retorted, glaring down at the ketchup stained shirt he had been wearing for the past three days since Shouto had woken up. “Those bitches should be glad they get to see us at all. We look fuckin’ fabulous, Halfie.”
It was true.
Despite the dark circles under both their eyes, Shouto’s messily braided hair, and his own grown-out undercut, they still managed to look hot as fuck.
They had gotten to the court after fifteen minutes, filled out the paperwork in ten, and waited in the lobby for forty.
Shouto, still sluggish from his meds, leaned against Katsuki’s shoulder and huddled in close, almost purring from the warmth. Bakugou threw an arm over him in response and settled in to wait.
They were called in almost an hour later and before they knew it, they were in front of the officiant and saying their vows.
Katsuki didn’t have anything prepared so he winged it and simply said, “You’re the only one of those extras I can fucking stand, Icyhot.”
Fucking nailed it.
Shouto smiled dopily and said back, “You make me feel warm.”
They fell silent after that and turned to look at the officiant, who looked as if he had expected something more. They already said what they needed to say, what else did he fucking want?
After a long moment of expectant silence, he had continued on with his speech, until he was saying at last, “You may now kiss the groom.”
Finally , now they were going to the fucking good part.
Katsuki eagerly pulled his- his husband, holy fuck, into the longest, filthiest kiss that stupid court had ever seen.
After ignoring the officiant clearing his throat for five minutes, Katsuki finally pulled away enough to hear something about rings.
Oh shit.
They had forgotten the fucking rings
“Shit, hold on,” Katsuki muttered, digging through his pocket until he found a stray strand of thread. He promptly tied it around Shouto’s finger like a ribbon. “I’ll get you a better ring next week, Princess. Biggest fucking diamond you’re ever seen.”
“I don’t need a diamond ring if I have you,” Shouto replied back with that dopey look still in his eyes, sending Katsuki’s face ablaze.
“Don’t- don’t just say shit like that,” he countered weakly, snatching their wedding certificate from the officiant and pushing open the door with his shoulder.
He helped Shouto into the car, buckling him in and then beginning the drive back home. Shouto fell asleep in the car and didn’t wake, even as Katsuki carried him inside the house and tucked him into bed.
Five hours later, Shouto blinked awake with the smell of soba permeating the room.
“Fucking finally, sleeping beauty!” Katsuki growled from behind him on the bed, manhandling his- his husband into an upright position and shoving a tray full of food into his lap. “You missed lunch so now you have to finish all of this, alright?”
Still blinking sleepily, Shouto ignored the meal and brought his trembling hands closer to eye level, gaze fixed resolutely on the string still tied around his ring finger. “That wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, thumb rubbing over the fraying thread.
Katsuki winced. Maybe getting married while his boyfriend was loopy off pain meds wasn’t the best idea.
“No, it wasn’t a dream,” he grunted, taking the chopsticks from the tray and picking up a bite. He brought it to Shouto’s lips, watching in satisfaction when he chewed slowly with a look of pleasure in his eyes. Was he the best fucking chef in the world or what? “We’re husbands now, Halfie. No take backs.”
“But it’s all foggy,” Shouto complained with a pout, looking ridiculous with sauce smeared on the inner corner of his lips. “I want to get married again.”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Katsuki wiped away the smudge with his thumb and then leaned in for a kiss. “We can invite your sister next time too. And my old man.”
“And Izuku?”
“Don’t push it,” He scoffed, but they both knew that if they ever had a public wedding in the future, the guest list would be longer than a fucking binge shoppers receipt.
***
Being married was not much different than being boyfriends, Katsuki discovered after weeks of having a husband.
The extras had been complaining ever since he and the Halfie had gotten together in their second year that they were “constantly in their honeymoon phase” because of how much PDA they subjected their friend groups to. It turns out that actually being on their honeymoon was just normal levels of affection for them.
Katsuki still French kissed Shouto whenever some extra looked his way too long, except this time he would think, ‘That’s right, he’s MY husband, you fucking loser’ while doing it instead of thinking ‘That’s right, he’s MY boyfriend, you fucking loser’.
Having Shouto as a husband was the same as having Shouto as a boyfriend, except he was more secure in their relationship, knowing that somewhere on the government database it stated that he was Shouto’s and Shouto was his. Anyone could open up those fucking papers and know how much he loved that goddamned idiot, would know that he would stop breathing if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with him.
Apparently, not everyone took being married as irrelevantly as they did.
It was a Friday night when the extras had found out, in the back table of a dimly lit club where Todoroki had dragged him to meet up with the rest of their friends. These meetings had quickly become routine once their class transitioned to being pro heroes and it became necessary to have weekly days where they could unwind and catch up.
Katsuki usually tried staying home, hating the loud noises and late nights, but Shouto always gave him those fucking cute as shit puppy eyes and he would fold faster than a toppling tower of cards.
Those eyes were the reason that he found himself sandwiched between Alien Eyes and Sparky with Halfie, Shitty Hair, and the Tape Dispenser across from him on the other side of the table.
He was trying to ignore the way Denki was prattling right in his ear and it was incredibly easy to do so when Shouto looked so gorgeous under the neon lights, his hair done up in a half-up half-down style and piercings glistening.
Across the table, a drunk Kirishima was loudly retelling a story from his patrol a few years back, stopping every few seconds to laugh. Shouto was giggling too, cheeks red and eyes bright from the alcohol.
Normally, the sight would have been enough to have his stone cold heart melting but he couldn’t enjoy it fully with the way Kirishima was draped all over Halfie, arms wrapped around him and leaning all up in his space like it was his fucking right, getting a little too handsy no matter how drunk he was.
The irritation was so strong that he immediately snarled without even thinking about his words, “Oi Shitty Hair, get your horny paws off my husband!”
The table instantly fell quiet.
Just as quickly, noise erupted so fast that it gave Katsuki a damn headache.
“Shut the fuck up, you damn extras!”
“But bro!” Kirishima’s arms were still all over Shouto but at least their faces weren’t practically glued together anymore. “You guys got married and you didn’t tell anyone?”
“That is so not cool, Roki,” Sero added, elbowing Todoroki lightly. “I thought we were friends.”
“We got married right after I got out of the hospital,” Shouto said absentmindedly in response, clearly not too worried because he was distracted with trying to make an origami crane with a napkin. “I don’t really remember much.”
“You got married while your boyfriend was high on pain meds?!” Mina squealed, turning to glare at him with her huge bug eyes.
“Katsuki said we could get married again,” was added after as if that would help the situation.
“We’ve gotta be invited this time, right?”
“Yeah, bro that’s not manly at all if you don't invite us to your second wedding either. We’ve known you guys for five years now.”
Katsuki growled, feeling his blood pressure rise with every second that passed in front of these extras. “No one is having a second wedding! For fucks sakes, calm the fuck down.”
And then Shouto was turning those huge fucking mismatched eyes his way and looking up at him all betrayed and fuck but Katsuki was so weak for him. “I mean- fuck, fine whatever we’ll have the stupid wedding and you stupid extras can come too or whatever. But one word of this to anyone and I’ll blow your stupid names off the stupid fucking guest list and kill you, you hear?”
“Yes!! Finally, a Class A wedding! I call being flower girl!” Mina interjected eagerly before he had even finished talking.
Kirishima stood up too, his stupid shark teeth bared in an excited grin. “Dibs on being Roki’s best man!”
“Hey no fair!”
Sero and Kirishima started arguing over who was closer with Todoroki while Kaminari and Mina began discussing color palettes and florals.
Katsuki wanted to cut them off and tell them that Icyhot and him had already spent countless nights discussing what colors they would want (they both agreed that they wanted a fall wedding with earthy tones) and that he didn’t need those extras to help him plan anything.
But they all stopped when he saw Shouto across the table from him, eyes creased from the wide smile on his face, looking radiant and beautiful and- fuck, he didn’t know what else could possibly describe the fuckin’ Greek god that sat in from of him. Maybe ethereal?
“Congratulations, Todoroki! I didn’t think you two would be the first to get married but I’m definitely not surprised!”
“Oi, Shitty Hair! Don’t call him that anymore. It’s Bakugou now!”
Kirishima scratched at his head and looked between. “Won’t that get confusing?”
Seeing the look, Shouto smiled at Kirishima and told him, his cheeks too rosy to be just from the alcohol, “You can just call me by my first name to make it easier.”
“Oh snap, really?! That’s so manly! You can call me Eijirou then! It’s only fair-”
When Katsuki saw Shouto with his friends, looking happier and more content than he had probably ever been in his entire life, he decided that he would give his husband everything he could to get him to smile like that every day, even if it meant getting married fifty times over.