Work Text:
“So, tell us Dynamite-san, what was going through your mind the moment you flew into the scene?”
“Wel–“
Shouto switches off the TV just as his boyfriend starts speaking on screen, still out of breath, sweaty and grimy, but oh, so gorgeous.
He’s currently curled up on their couch, legs thrown over the armrest and body twisted in such a way that his back still kind of rests on the backrest. If Katsuki were here he’d probably be lectured on about posture and future spine-related ailments (ironic coming from the man that hunched over like a gremlin for years everywhere he went). But he’s not here right now, he’s out finishing up his post-battle interview, so until then Shouto’s free to sit on his ass however he pleases.
He sighs, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of Katsuki and the live fight he’d just watched. What a lucky day for his day off; definitely one of Katsuki’s best of the year thus far.
Aiko, their cat, who’s curled up on his lap meows as if she can read his thoughts, apparently proud of her dad too. He hums back, stroking her little head while he picks up his phone with the other hand.
There are several messages from Izuku already, even though he’s supposedly in the office today. When he unlocks his phone he sees that it’s a play-by-play of Katsuki’s best moves this fight and apparently he’ll be getting a detailed account later with comments and exclamations when Izuku’s off work later. Shouto huffs in fond amusement.
Honestly, he can’t wait for the detailed account. While he loves Izuku’s commentary filled discussions of every one of Hero Dynamight’s fights, it’s Katsuki’s profanity-filled version when he returns home that’s his favorite. A little routine they have between each other, actually.
His boyfriend isn’t usually the type to express excitement openly when he feels it, finding it to be some kind of weakness during his teen angst years but just kind of stuck even after that. He no longer outright denies when he’s happy, but he’s not like Izuku or Kirishima either. His features and expressions are subtle, a bit similar to Shouto himself in that sense, but Shouto knows how to read between every single line now after having been friends for five years and now dating for almost a whole year.
Whenever Katsuki comes home after a particularly exciting day at work like this one, his crimson eyes always light up, bright, grin feral and broad, words spoken fast along with gestures to relive the badass moments. It’s moments like these he can really see the parts of Izuku that’s rubbed off on him. And Shouto loves that side of his boyfriend so, so much.
Shouto only has to wait less than an hour before he hears the key turn in the lock.
“Tadaima.” The shuffling sounds of Katsuki removing his shoes are heard and Shouto straightens up on the couch to see that he’s changed out of his costume at the agency before coming back home.
“Okaeri.” He goes to stand but Aiko lightly hisses, disgruntled, before hopping off his lap and to her little bed in the corner. He walks over to Katsuki who’s hung his jacket on the hook now, and immediately steps into Shouto’s arms. Now he’s home.
Shouto presses a kiss to his head and then again to his lips when the head pulls back, slipping both his hands into Katsuki’s hoodie pockets to trap him in. His boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind.
“Saw your fight on the news. You kicked ass out there.”
“Fuck yeah, I did. Did d’you expect anything less from me?”
Shouto kisses the smirk, but something about Katsuki still feels a little…off.
He slowly walks backward, tugging Katsuki by the hoodie pockets with him and to the couch. He follows without protest. Again, it’s a little odd without a few obligatory objections to being lovingly manhandled.
“Tell me more. Was the villain as annoying to pin down as it looked?”
“Fuck, yes! Slimy little motherfucker, my god.”
And that’s enough to trigger Katsuki into sharing everything about his day, clambering into Shouto’s lap without a thought once they reach the couch, hands getting a little animated as he explains how the intern that was paired with him was actually useful for once as she created an opening for Katsuki to finally swoop in to end the skirmish.
And Shouto listens to it all, eyes taking it all in, hands resting on Katsuki’s waist and lightly playing with the edge of the hoodie. And then the narrative of the fight ends and Katsuki is practically glowing with pride and so is Shouto. He pulls him in for another kiss and he feels Katsuki melt just a little, letting their mouths linger a bit longer.
“And what about the reporters? Any annoying ones this time?”
(There’s always at least one he gets to hear about.)
But Katsuki just blinks a little, face starting to heat up a little for whatever reason, and turns away.
Again. So strange.
“Katsuki? Did someone say something terrible again?”
He finds himself starting to get a bit angry. He’ll never forget that one reporter that kept pressing Katsuki about his first year kidnapping after his first solo fight post-graduation. It was not a pretty sight, and the man got what was coming to him, in Shouto’s opinion.
“What? No, no. Nothing fucking terrible.” Katsuki scratches his chin, still looking away from Shouto. “Well, not really.”
“Would I need to light their hair on fire?”
That gets Katsuki to turn back to him, abrupt and eyes wide, lips switching from a mild scowl to an amused smile.
“The fuck?” He laughs, a genuine one, before bumping his forehead against Shouto’s, popping a kiss to his nose. “As fucking hilarious as that could be, no. I think Burnin’s got the flaming hair shit down already anyway.”
“Hmm. Then what’s wrong? Why are you being all weird about it?”
Katsuki pulls back again, the flush rising to his cheeks once more.
“I don’t wanna talk about it yet.”
“But you love telling me how brilliant you were. At length.”
That earns him a flick to the forehead.
“I already told you the awesome shit! The interview parts don’t involve my fucking brilliance.”
“Sometimes they do.”
“Yeah, well, not today.” Katsuki mumbles something incomprehensible else after, looking over at Aiko napping in the corner instead.
“I’m not going to push you, but I am very curious now.”
Katsuki side-eyes him and then sighs heavily.
“You sure you didn’t watch the shit on TV? Hasn’t fucking Deku texted you about it yet? The fucker’s always going on about me to you, it’s fucking annoying.”
“You love it. And no, I don’t know anything. You know I always like hearing everything from you first, Kat.”
He rubs Katsuki’s sides soothingly, up and down, as he watches his boyfriend muster the courage to reveal whatever the hell he’s so nervous to share.
Their chests press closer as Katsuki takes an exaggerated breath and makes himself meet Shouto’s gaze directly.
“I, uh, may have implied I wanna marry you on live TV.”
Uh. What.
“Oh–kay…please, elaborate.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows scrunch in frustration before he starts his ramble.
“Okay fine so after the fight they asked me the usual questions like what were your thoughts and how do you feel and blah blah fucking blah and then this other reporter suddenly started going on about hero partnerships and shit and then asked about mine and Deku’s team-ups and then this other bitch suddenly switches the fucking topic to romantic partners or whatever the hell and starts probing me about my dating life which is like normal I know but then apparently I said something good or whatever and then the fucking vultures twisted the shit and started going on about how I’m fucking husband material or some shit and somehow— somehow I fucking let slip that the only person I’d ever fucking marry is you and then they lost their minds and now uh, we’re trending.”
That was truly an Izuku-level of babbling, for sure.
“So,” he blinks at his boyfriend, “was that a proposal?”
“What!? No, dumbass! We haven’t even been together a whole fucking year yet! It means our relationship is fucking public now and the whole goddamn world knows about us.”
Oh, right. They’ve kept it a secret so far.
Katsuki runs a frustrated hand down his own face, groaning.
“And to think I thought you’d be the one to let the cat outta the fuckin’ bag.”
“Serves you right for thinking that and unnecessarily bringing cats into this.”
Katsuki scowls at him, pinching his cheek.
“Ow.”
“Yeah, fucking serves you right, bastard.”
Shouto chuckles despite himself, rubbing his mildly sore cheek. Apparently, it’s infectious because soon Katsuki’s laughing with him.
“Fu–stop! It’s not fucking funny, Shou!”
“It is a little bit.”
“Fine! A little bit, but fuck, we gotta deal with the press now. And all the shitty questions.”
“Okay, we’ll deal with it.” He lets his hands run up Katsuki’s hoodie and onto bare skin.
“And our managers. Fujioka is gonna fucking kill me for making her work overtime for this now.”
“I’m sure she’ll get over it.” He lets his hands roam, pressing gently to that their bodied are closer together.
“Our friends won’t get off our backs.”
“Have they ever?” He starts pushing the hoodie up and Katsuki doesn’t stop him, leaving him in only his thin black tank top.
“Fair fucking point. But,” Katsuki bites his lip, and Shouto wants him to stop because it’s too damn tempting to take over for him. “I-I didn’t fucking mean to expose this shit without talking with you first, Shou. I’m just fuckin’ sorry you gotta deal with the goddamn mess now with no fucking warning.”
“Well, this is kind of a heads up. Besides, admitting that you’re in love with me and might wanna be with me forever on live television isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
He presses a kiss to Katsuki’s cheek, which feels warm again.
“Oi, don’t you dare bring up the depantsing incident again! Not my fault Deku decided to fall to his death in fucking civvies and his fucking legs were the only thing I could grab!”
“That’s not what I was thinking of at all.”
“Fucking–you’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Mmm, yeah.” He has his nose pressed into Katsuki’s neck at this point so he’s not really processing the insults. Not that they’re insults anyway. Not to Shouto.
“We’re gonna have to address and confirm this publicly tomorrow, right?”
He feels the tired and annoyed sigh make his hair flutter lightly. “Yeah. To avoid shitty rumors and crap from running amuck, I guess. At least that’s what Fujioka fucking texted me.”
“So, technically we still have tonight to ourselves then?”
Katsuki seems to finally catch onto Shouto’s developing mood, manic grin taking over his lips.
“One last night of our little not-so-secret,” he murmurs, humming as Shouto starts kissing his neck. “Have something in mind, hmm, pretty boy?”
“Possibly. Might make you wanna propose to me for real this time.”