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Five years after graduating, and he’s still surrounded by the same idiots. There are a few people who aren’t from their graduating class at Izuku and Ururaka’s engagement party — Class B or upperclassmen, a few Shiketsu and Ketsubuku graduates, and a couple American heroes Izuku kept in contact with — but it might as well have been a class reunion.
He can’t get away from most of them, anyway. He still lives with Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari, though thankfully sometime in the first year or two of living together they’d learned how to clean up after themselves adequately. Izuku — and by extension, Uraraka — would have been impossible to get rid of now they own the agency together. Shinsou comes over for Kaminari plenty, though they only overlap when Shinsou’s night shift ends early enough that they see each other as Bakugou is leaving in the morning. He sees Jirou and Yaoyorozu frequently enough at any of the bigger gatherings, too, or if Jirou is playing a gig somewhere.
And then there’s Todoroki. They have this sort of… thing, he guesses. He doesn’t really know what the thing is — or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t know what to do with it. ‘Cause the problem is, Todoroki is everywhere. He’s at parties, he’s at the agency, he’s everywhere Katsuki goes, and every time they talk? They flirt, or they joke and Todoroki will hit him with that deadpan humour that infuriates him and endears him and makes him want to grab him and pull him close. It’s good, and it’s fun and it’s something, in the sense that it’s not nothing, and Katsuki can’t help but wish it was more, even though somehow it’s never ended up that way.
Christ knows it’s not because he doesn’t care enough about the idiot. Even when the idiot isn’t around, he keeps tabs on Todoroki almost as thoroughly as Izuku used to keep tabs on him. He even texts with Fuyumi, to ask for recipes from the rare occasions he’s invited over for dinners. Even when Todoroki falls off the map from everyone, closes himself off, Katsuki always makes sure he’s there, even if the most Todoroki will let him do is drop off a plate of soba.
Todoroki is so close, just a hairbreadth away from his outstretched fingertips, but whether it’s Katsuki’s hesitance to ruin what they have, or something holding Todoroki back, they’ve never quite crossed the threshold into something more. They orbit each other, getting closer and closer but never colliding, and sometimes it feels like the distance will break him.
Maybe it’s that persistent habit of checking in that manages to get through his alcohol-dulled alertness and set off the alarm bells that something’s wrong.
By this point in the evening Izuku and Ochako are both trashed, but so thoroughly, disgustingly in love with each other it’s plain to see. Even this drunk, Izuku has an arm around Ochako, while Ochako is leaning into him. Kirishima and Mina are next to them, looking almost as disgustingly lovey-dovey, and if it weren’t for how perfect both pairs were for each other Katsuki might have been irritated by it.
“You’re not here with your boyfriend?” Camie asks from behind him. In her heels, she’s almost the same height as him, making it harder to avoid her amused gaze.
“Still not my boyfriend.” He says, and realises she’ll take a mile of the inch he’s just given her.
“And yet, you knew exactly who I was talking about. Where is the gorgeous ice prince this evening?”
He frowns as he thinks; the warning bells from before growing louder and louder in his head.
“I-” He starts, trying to pull his hazy brain together enough to think it through. “He was around for the speeches and the cake, I’m pretty sure. He was chatting to Izuku.”
She wholeheartedly ignores his warning growl and rests her hands on his shoulders and shakes .
“So? Where is he now?” She asks, patronisingly slowly – or it would be if Katsuki weren’t being just as slow as she’s implying.
“I don’t fucking know, you crazy hag! Get off!” He says as he shakes free of her grip, but he doesn’t bother to step out of her reach just yet. “I don’t know. He didn’t even fucking say anything to me earlier, just did his fucking nod and walked away. Who does that?!” He says, as if he isn’t far ruder to his friends on a daily basis. His friends, though, not Todoroki.
“Maybe you should go find him then?” She asks, smiling more genuinely at him than she has all evening. He pauses to watch, since he’s far more used to her teasing him over how whipped he is than the genuine support. He thinks it’s because she knows he’d just tell her to fuck off if she ever pulled that shit when he was sober.
She’s a good friend.
“You finally admit we’re friends?”
His face flushes. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud! Shit! Fine, I’ll go find Half n Half from wherever he’s gotten lost from.”
“Wooo yeah! Go get your man!”
“Fuck yeah I’m gonna!” He replies, getting swept up in it. He spins on his heel to start walking, well, somewhere, but a small, soft hand on his wrist stops him.
“Um, maybe you should have a glass of water first.” She says, still looking entirely too amused by his admission. He tries to pull out of her hands, but she’s irritatingly stronger than she looks, and he’s keen not to break her ankles while she’s in those spindly looking heels. He takes the water and downs it quickly, swiping a hand at his lips when he’s done. Camie lets go, and he gives her a quick pet on the shoulder before he gets going. She’s done good this evening, after all. He pretends he doesn’t see the way she tears up at the affection, but internally makes a note to invite her out to coffee sometime soon. She’s a pain in his ass, but she really is a good friend.
He makes a round around Izuku’s flat, checking in on the various groups talking, but doesn’t find Todoroki anywhere. He checks the kitchen — he knows it’s Todoroki’s place to disappear to when it’s too loud — but he’s not there either. He even waits outside the occupied bathroom for about ten minutes to check if it’s Todoroki, only to be greeted by an unapologetically debauched Shinsou, and flushed and giggly Kaminari.
He takes the opportunity to have a piss while he’s there, and splashes a little water in his face to try and sober up a little: figuring out this whole situation would be easier with a few more functioning brain cells, and Todoroki would only abandon his friends if something was wrong.
He’s still not there when Katsuki gets back in. He wonders briefly if Todoroki could have gone home, but dismisses the thought when he remembers he’d seen Todoroki’s jacket with the fluffy hood still hanging on the back of the door. He’s frustrated, and he’s still less sober than he’d like to be, and Todoroki is nowhere to be found. And the asshole didn’t even say anything to him before disappearing! Fuck it . He can take a couple of minutes to grab some fresh air and sober up.
The door’s already on the latch to make it easier for any guests to get in and out. Katsuki would lecture Izuku on the safety of that shit, except the whole apartment block has pretty great security. He’d know, after all, since he lives a few floors up. More importantly, though, half the top 50 heroes in the country are in Izuku’s flat right now. Not like anyone was gonna be able to get in if Izuku didn’t want them there.
He swings by his own flat quickly on his way up – just to check, since Todoroki has a key – but it’s just as dark and empty as they’d left it. He swipes his own jacket as he leaves, the worn-out leather easily moulding to his body, and heads up to the roof. The flats here are more than nice enough, but if Katsuki had to complain, he’d mention that there’s no balcony. No easy access outdoors. It makes him wonder if Izuku and Uraraka will stay here, if they have a sprog of their own. Christ knows if their kid ever had a quirk they’d be better off leaving it outside – if they had anything like Uraraka’s quirk or Auntie Inko’s half their possessions would be zooming around the flat. Or house, if they move out.
There’s a twinge of sadness at the thought. He’s not really thought much about kids, figuring it probably wasn’t on the cards for him. He knows there are options for men who date men, but it’s not just that — he’d have to be actually dating someone before he could even consider it. He’s only 23, he knows he has time to figure it out, but the only person he wants is Todoroki, and Christ if he knows what Todoroki wants.
He jabs at the elevator, the button for his floor and the top floor more worn than the others from his repeated abuse. Sue him, he likes the roof. He’s got more than enough self-awareness to know he’s not a naturally calm guy, and sometimes just sitting out under the stars helps. He and his dad used to hike a lot, but in the last couple of years he’s barely had the time off to get out of the city. So instead, when he needs to get away, he sits out on the roof, looking up at the stars.
Once the elevator doors open, he powers on up to the roof. The whole situation has him irrationally wound up. Maybe it’s the fact Izuku, the brat who can barely file his agency paperwork on time, is taking the next step in becoming an adult. Maybe it’s because he and Todoroki aren’t. Most likely, though, it’s because Mina spiked the punch and that’s how he’s gotten more fucked up than he planned to.
He swings the door open, and chokes on the breath of night air when he sees Todoroki, right in front of his eyes, leaning against the railing with a cigarette in hand.
There’s a million things he wants to say, but the only thing that comes out is– “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Todoroki gives him a flat look, entirely devoid of any hint of teasing it usually had.
“I don’t. Natsuo taught me.”
Katsuki is shocked. He doesn’t care half as much about the smoking as he does about the fact that even after knowing each other for eight years, there’s still things he doesn't know about Todoroki Shouto. It’s odd, how it stings.
“Those things will kill you, you know.”
Todoroki shoots him a look and then takes a long, slow drag, before breathing smoke across the night sky.
“You’ve caught me at a really bad time, Katsuki. Just go back to the party and leave me alone.” He says, obviously irritated. He never brushes Katsuki off like this.
He he's barely even looked at Katsuki, instead staring out at some nameless point on the horizon. The apathy tempts Katsuki to rise up and bite back, to bait Todoroki into getting angry, but he holds back. His usually thin thread of control is made even thinner by the alcohol, but the cold air on his face is helping, making his thoughts come easier.
“I’ll stay where I am, thanks.” He says as he thinks through how he can defuse the situation, to get Todoroki to let him in. It's not right, how alone he looks, with his figure cutting a solitary silhouette against the night sky and face just barely lit by the glow of his cigarette and the city lights.
“When the hell did Natsuo even show you how to smoke, hah? Isn’t he a doctor?”
Todoroki huffs in a way that would almost be a laugh, if it weren't so bitter. The wrongness of something so defeated coming off Shouto's tongue makes him cringe.
“He gave me one once after we visited Touya, in exchange for a light.” Todoroki says, and despite it all Katsuki can’t help but laugh at the mental image of Todoroki using his quirk to light up a cigarette for Natsuo.
They continue in silence, but the tension has been mostly broken, at least. Katsuki pushes himself forward to lean up against the railings next to Todoroki as he makes his way through the cigarette. The ash when he taps it off floats out across the skyline, blending in with the stars. The night air and the sharp smell of the tobacco smoke clear his head, allowing him to parse his own thoughts.
“I come up here a lot, did you know? I used to go hiking with my dad all the time as a kid, but it’s not like any of us have time for it right now. So instead, if I’m not with you or Izuku at work, or with the rest of the morons, I come up here to get some fresh air.”
It’s a gamble. As close as they are, they don’t spend a lot of time talking about the big stuff. Instead, they support each other quietly - Katsuki bailing him out if Endeavour has spent too long at their office, or Todoroki using his warm and cool hands to loosen off Katsuki’s ever-tense shoulders. Neither of them are naturals at using their words, but Katsuki can try, will try, if it closes the gap between them. Until now, whatever unspoken thing they have had been enough. But after tonight, he can no longer settle for the casual ambiguity they’ve been stuck in for years .
“I’ve never been hiking.” Todoroki says, low and slow. Katsuki knows that– not that Todoroki has ever said those specific words, but by now they were all pretty clear on how Todoroki’s childhood was.
“I’ll take you sometime, if you like. Not like Izuku doesn’t owe us a weekend off. But… you can always come up here with me, next time.”
Katsuki watches the cars go by below. Even at this time of night, it never seems to stop in the city. There are still some office lights on across the street, and even Katsuki has enough of a heart to pity them. At some point Todoroki stubbs out his cigarette and lights a new one. Katsuki can’t drag his eyes away from the sight of Todoroki cupping it with his cool hand to keep the wind off, and lighting up with just the barest of flickers of a flame coming off his first finger. He swallows, mouth dry suddenly dry, wholly unable to look away from Shouto's lips until the puff of smoke breaks the moment. It’s not as funny as he imagined.
Todoroki is one of few people with whom Katsuki is comfortable in silence with. One of two, actually– the other being his dad. There’s no one else he can just exist with comfortably, side by side, without having to force conversation. Not that they don’t talk– obviously they talk. Katsuki can tell Todoroki all about they’re annoying intern, or the canteen at the agency having not made the curry spicy enough, or whatever other petty grievance he’s facing, and Todoroki will answer with something teasingly sarcastic and said absolutely deadpan. But they don’t have to. They can get along just fine eating whatever dinner Katsuki has made for them while barely saying two words to each other.
But not talking doesn't really seem to be cutting it this time. There’s a handful of cigarette butts on the floor by Todoroki’s feet, and Todoroki is still here, so clearly not talking isn’t working.
“Why-”
“I-”
They both start at the same time. Katsuki gives a jerking nod, indicating him to continue. Todoroki gives a deep, heavy sigh.
“It’s odd, watching Izuku and Ochako getting engaged.” He says, not elaborating. Which–yeah it is, but Todoroki came with Katsuki and Izuku to pick out the ring, so it’s not like he didn’t know it was coming. Though Katsuki can sort of understand. There's a big difference between helping a floundering Izuku through a jewellery shop and the undeniable show of domesticity downstairs.
“Yeah?” He says.
“Yeah.”
Todoroki takes another drag. Katsuki steels himself, forcing himself to sit back and listen until Todoroki's said his piece.
“They’re– they’re acting like it won’t change anything. And I think that, maybe for them, it really won’t. They seem just as happy as before.” Todoroki says, sounding out the words like he's unsure where he’s going with it. When it becomes clear he's not adding more without promting, Katsuki lets out a breath.
“It might, or it might not. Change isn’t always a bad thing, you know.” He says, and Todoroki lets out a half laugh. Even at his expense, the easy, tumbling sound is beautiful.
“Katsuki, you spent three days shouting at Izuku when the agency changed ramen day from Tuesday to Thursday. And even then you only stopped because Izuku had to personally go up and ask them to change it back.”
And yeah, Katsuki had forgotten about that. He laughs a little too at the reminder. Maybe he does like things to stay the same, mostly; he likes routine, and he likes to know what’s coming next. But he’s only gotten to the routine he likes now through change.
“They’re not the only ones of our friends starting a life together like that. Kirishima and Ashido, Jirou and Momo too. Everyone else is moving on and I’m–” Todoroki cuts off. I’m left behind . Katsuki can’t be sure it was what he was going to say, but it’s hardly a leap of faith.
“I was always kept away from Natsuo and Fuyumi, did you know?” Katsuki knows. “I like talking to them now, and I like getting to know them, but even now I’m still only just getting to know them. They’ve got each other, and they both have their own lives away from the family. Even Fuyumi is getting married next year. They're moving on, and I'm still here.”
Katsuki knows about Fuyumi's wedding. Katsuki’s invited to it. But he nods along anyway, waiting to hear where Todoroki is going with it. Todoroki doesn’t usually talk about how he feels about his childhood, instead bringing up objectively horrifying memories in the same way someone would discuss what they ate for dinner the night before. Katsuki isn't an idiot, he can pick up on most of that shit without Todoroki having to spell it out for him, but he still wants to hear what’s going on in that pretty head of his.
“And now our friends are moving on too. Izuku and Ochako both looked so happy at starting a life together. And I’m,” He pauses to take another drag. Katsuki sees his hands are shaking. It’s almost perverse that Todoroki can face down villains, the press, and his father with absolute confidence, but opening up about his feelings is what makes him nervous.
“I suppose I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to have that.”
Todoroki still isn’t looking at Katsuki. Katsuki feels his heart break for him. Todoroki is impossibly kind and resilient. He easily could have hardened himself by now, or shut himself off from the world after all he’s been through. He didn’t have to be a hero, putting himself at risk for the people who openly speculated about his private life on the daily. He didn’t have to speak up at Touya’s trial, or go visit him so frequently. He didn’t have to forgive Endeavour for breaking their family apart, but he did. He did all of those things, even when it was hard, or when it hurt, because he’s a good person. He cares about anyone and everyone, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to feel alone anymore when he’s already spent half his life that way. Katsuki refuses to let that happen.
“Izuku and Fuyumi. They aren’t going anywhere, you know that? Izuku would never let go of a friend.”
Even when he should.
Todoroki peers at Katsuki out of the corner of his turquoise eye, and Katsuki tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat.
“Fuyumi would drop everything to come see you any time you ask. Has she ever even skipped a family meal unless it was an emergency?”
She hasn’t. Katsuki knows it, because if she had, Todoroki would have had that mopey, kicked-puppy look he gets when he's until Katsuki would have asked about it. He would have spilled the beans instantly, and Katsuki would have proddes him or plied him with food until he cheered up. But there has been no post-family dinner sulking, which means no unexpected no-shows by the only Todoroki sibling who knows how to cook.
“They might have a few more things to juggle into the mix, but they aren’t just going to up and leave you. You won’t have to be away from them just because their lives are changing, and you won’t be any less important to them, either. You’re not alone , Todoroki, I promise. ”
He hates how he chokes at the end. He’s meant to be reassuring Todoroki, but he can’t help feeling a little overwhelmed. He’s always been emotional, at heart, even when they came out twisted and barbed.
Todoroki fully turns, now, leaning back against the railing. The cigarette hangs in his hand, forgotten. He still doesn’t believe it, not yet, but he’s looking, waiting to see what Katsuki comes out with next.
It’s easier like this. All Katsuki ever wants these days is for Todoroki to look at him.
“You’ve still got Izuku, Fuyumi, Ochako, Momo even. You won’t be left behind. We won’t leave you.”
He hadn’t meant to say we, but it’s true. He’ll meet Todoroki wherever he’s at. He won’t leave him. He’s never felt how he feels for Todoroki for anyone else, not even in passing. No one else has ever caught his eye, no one else has ever made him as happy or as nervous.
It’s that which breaks the cold mask Todoroki’s been wearing this whole time. His eyebrows lift from their frown as he takes Katsuki in, trying to understand what Katsuki’s promising.
“And besides… if that's what you want, you have to know by now I'd give it to you. I can wait as long as you need, cause what we have now is great too, okay? So no rush or anything. I just figured you should know that I– I would want that with you, if you didn't know already. So– I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying with you. You'll have me for as long as you want.”
He wants to tell Todoroki properly, tell him he's so far gone for him that he doesn't even remember who he is without this feeling any more but the words get caught in his throat. And despite how long he's been talking, Todoroki hasn’t stopped looking at him once. He hates how much he loves that dumb surprised expression: eyes wide, lips parted, head tilted as he tries to understand. It’s so stupid. It’s adorable. It’s so quintessentially Todoroki Shouto, and that makes it perfect.
“I won’t keep you waiting much longer, then.” Todoroki says decisively, finally sounding more like himself. Katsuki slides along the railing, closing the distance between them until their shoulders touch. Todoroki hisses and breaks eye contact as the long-forgotten cigarette in his hand burns down to his fingers, even though it can’t hurt him. He stubs it out under his shoe, cursing it as he does so. Suddenly, Katsuki is hit by a wave of warmth that allows him to finally feel his fingertips. He gives them an experimental wiggle, trying to speed up the blood flow, only to see the ghost of a smile on Todoroki's face when he looks back up. Normally Katsuki would make some remark about laughing at him, but right now he’s too comfortable to bother.
They stay there, watching the stars side by side, until Katsuki notices it's gone midnight.
"You staying at mine again tonight, then?"
Todoroki hums. "I think so."
Katsuki pushes himself off the wall and holds a hand out for Todoroki. He's grateful that Todoroki doesn't choose to use his cold hand to take it – he thinks his fingers have had enough cold for the night.
He holds the door open, but Todoroki pauses before going through it.
"Do you want to get breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"I guess?” Katsuki says. “I mean you'll be over anyway so I don't mind cooking you breakfast."
Todoroki glares at him for just a split second before laughing, something strong and full-bellied, and he’s clutching at his middle as he tries to catch his breath.
"No, Katsuki-"
"Katsuki?"
Todoroki pauses, and Katsuki can see straight through his unsuccessful attempt not to smile.
"It's your name, isn't it?"
Katsuki huffs at the non-answer, but lets it go.
"Alright, Shouto ." He says, and it sounds far too fond to be as mocking as he intended.
Todoroki must hear it, too, because his smile only grows. God, Katsuki loves that smile. It's so much rarer than the small half-smile he wears in public, or the irritating smirk he learned sometime in third year at UA that he uses exclusively when he teases Katsuki.
"Alright, Katsuki . Would you let me take you out for a breakfast date tomorrow?"
The air rushes from his lungs. Shouto did say he wouldn't have to wait long, he guesses, though he'd thought that would mean months, not minutes. Though, he supposes Shouto has always been determined.
Grinning, he pulls Shouto through the door after him, and drags him in the direction of his flat. It's only once they've made it to the warmth of the elevator that Katsuki pulls him close and gives him his answer.
" Yes ."