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“Apparently it’s gonna start storming real soon,” Kaminari says, face pressed against one of the large windows of the common room. He keeps shifting his position and angling his body in weird ways to get a better look at the clouds, but it’s already dark outside aside from the lamps out front, so there isn’t much to grasp. “Should we go dance in the rain? This feels like dancing weather, ya know?”
“Are you an idiot?” Katsuki says. He’s only a few feet behind Kaminari, arms folded over his chest as he glares out the window, he can hear the hard rain as much as he can see it. It’s fast and there’s a lot of it, and it’s heavy. “It’s gonna storm, that’s not dancing weather,”
Kaminari smiles, “well- I mean, yeah, but—”
“It’s so fucking stupid how there aren’t any curtains to these large ass windows. Why the hell do we need to see what’s going on out there anyway? And what about our damn privacy, huh? It pisses me the hell off.”
“—but I meant before it starts storming. We still have time,” Kaminari pulls himself from the window and does a weird dance as he skips his way back to the couches, where a majority of the others are sitting around, doing typical rainy day activities; popcorn, cards, a movie on for white noise, games- (Katsuki can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the window, though) and he hears him talking to the others, trying to convince them to go outside with him, “I love storms! And it’ll be so funnn,”
“Not a good idea, Kaminari!” Iida says, and when Katsuki forces himself to turn away from the window, he can see the teen looks stressed from whatever card game he’s playing with Uraraka. He’s losing. “We should all stay put and remain inside where it’s safe. The forecast says—”
“Lightning and thunder in the next thirty minutes,” Katsuki supplies.
He’s been checking the forecast since the light drizzle started. It was 8:07 right now. It shifted from drizzle to rain at 7:30, started raining heavily at 8:00, and the thunder and lightning would take effect at 8:30. So no, they don’t have time to ‘dance in the rain’ and Kaminari is being stupid.
Katsuki drags his way over to where Kirishima is on one of the couches, trying to throw popcorn into Sero’s mouth. They’re both shit at the game.
“Lightning is fucking dangerous, so nobody’s going outside,” he says.
Iida nods, “precisely.”
“Wow, you really care about us, man,” Kirishima says absently, trying to get another kernel into Sero’s mouth—it hits him in the face—and then he’s nudging Katsuki’s side with a grin, “storms are pretty great when you’re in ‘em, though.”
“No they’re not.”
Kirishima frowns, “bad experiences, man?”
“None,” Katsuki says. He leans back, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes find the windows of the common room again. “They’re just not fun. People fucking die in storms, Shitty Hair. Lightning and hurricanes and tornadoes. If you think 'death' is fun, then I can give you fun myself.”
Kaminari whistles, “woah, way to kill the mood.”
“Yeah man,” Sero says, popping the kernels of popcorn around him into his mouth, “total mood killer. Some people have different experiences, you know. Like, people die in oceans. But we still have the majority who like swimming at the beach every summer.”
“Not the same.”
“Mh. Kinda is, though.”
Katsuki folds his arms even tighter, eyes flickering to the windows when there’s a rumble from outside. His fingers pinch the skin of his arm and he jumps when there’s a flash of light casting over the room. Fuck. Fuck.
He tightens his jaw and shifts to focus on Iida and Uraraka playing cards as he grits out, “it’s fucking not.” His voice comes out quieter than he intended and nobody actually hears it.
When there’s another rumble, Katsuki quickly pulls his phone from his pocket, clicks on the weather app to see why the hell the actual storm is starting so early. The app doesn’t give a reason, but it does let him know that yeah, there’s fucking thunder and lightning in the area: you’re gonna die, hide, barricade the damn dorms, it’s gonna fucking kill you.
“Hey- what’re you doing down here, anyway?” Kaminari says suddenly, looking up from his phone. “Not that we don’t enjoy your grumpy, fun-sucking blasty self, but aren’t you supposed to be in bed? It’s late for you.” Kaminari raises his brows with a teasing grin, “you rebelling against yourself? Cause I’d be so proud,”
Katsuki’s eyes flicker down to his phone, making sure nothing’s changed since he checked a minute ago. “What, I can’t stay up late now?”
“No,” there’s a familiar, flat voice behind him and it makes his fingers tighten around his phone. “You just get all pouty when you’re up past your bedtime. Like a spoiled princess.” He pokes at Katsuki teasingly with a small laugh. “Princess.”
Katsuki grits his teeth, “Bastard,” he hisses and turns off his phone. “The hell have you been, anyway?”
“Painting my nails with Izuku,” he stretches his arms in front of Katsuki from where he stands behind him and the couch and wiggles his fingers. They’re painted white. “Do you like them?”
“They’re pretty.”
“I painted mine black!” Deku says, taking his place beside Kaminari.
Katsuki frowns at him, “They look like shit.”
Deku frowns back, and from behind him, Shouto’s fingers run through his hair, “go to bed.”
“God,” Katsuki slaps his hand away from his hair and lifts himself from the couch, “I fucking hate you.”
He stomps his way out of the common room and makes sure he’s loud as he also stomps up the stairs.
Shouto’s right—Katsuki’s tired, and he does need to go to bed. He isn’t mad at Shouto for telling him that, but he doesn’t want to go alone, and Shouto didn’t offer to go with him. So Katsuki has to make him go, and since he can’t ask like a regular person because fuck that—the only way to do that is to get unexplainably mad, storm off, have Shouto chase after him, and then keep him in the room until the storm passes.
He knows it worked when he hears Shouto call for him as soon as he gets past the doors.
He makes Shouto chase him all the way into his room, and as expected, Shouto follows him inside, panting a little as he closes the door behind him, brows drawn in confusion. Getting a good look at him, Katsuki can see some of his hair is pulled back so he’s wearing it half up and half down, and—that’s pretty, too.
Shouto’s eyes are asking a silent question and Katsuki just presses his lips shut and frowns.
“Did I do something wrong?” Shouto asks.
“I don’t need to be told what to do,” Katsuki says, quickly looking over his shoulder when there’s a rumble of the thunder and—it’s louder in his room.
Fuck, fuck- it’s louder—
“—But I tell you it’s time for you to go to bed all of the time?” Katsuki quickly refocuses on Shouto, who looks even more confused. “You don’t have to listen to me. I've been trying to make 'jokes' recently, and that one always seems to land... Are you upset at something else?”
“Yes—I mean- no." Katsuki rolls his eyes, gaze dropping to his feet. "No, it’s nothing.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Yeah. I just—” there’s a flash of lightning that has Katsuki whirling around and he counts the seconds under his breath, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—he jumps at the clap of thunder and steps further away from his window, “two miles.”
“Hm? Two miles... Oh. The lightning. I never really understood how that works. But I have come up with my own way of…”
Katsuki tunes Shouto out as he keeps a careful eye on the window—the curtains are slightly open. They’re fucking open—Katsuki rushes over and shuts his curtains with shaking hands and then takes quick steps back. There’s another flash, two, three, four, five—a clap of thunder- he jumps and his breath comes out in short, panicked puffs of air. One mile. It was two just a fucking second ago—it's getting closer.
“Katsuki—?”
“We have to go,” Katsuki rushes back, grabs Shouto's wrist, and pulls him along as he tries to get to the door—he’s stopped when Shouto gently tugs back. Katsuki looks back at Shouto and grits his teeth, voice shaking, “Shouto- we have to fucking go!”
“Go?” Shouto frowns, and pulls Katsuki closer to him, “I don’t understand. Where?—Why? What’s wrong?”
“Because it’s—!” Katsuki shuts his mouth. He glances over Shouto’s shoulder, and then back at Shouto.
We're gonna fucking die is why—is what he wants to say. Instead, he doesn’t say anything and Shouto’s head falls to the side, eyes narrow as they search Katsuki- pull him apart under that steady gaze in that stupid way he always did. Katsuki never knows how Shouto can figure him out—doesn't get how he does it so quickly with so little cues and the little that Katsuki gives him to work with, but he does. And as much as it irritates Katsuki, it's also comforting. The fact that he doesn't have to say shit. Doesn't have to say things that make him feel small and weak- the fact that Shouto can say it and know it even if Katsuki persists against it.
“You’re afraid,” Shouto says. “Of the storm.”
Katsuki frowns and denies. “I’m not. I’m fine.”
“It’s alright—”
"I'm not fucking scared, okay?" Katsukis persists, “the lightning’s just getting close, so it’s dangerous.”
“Oh, well... I think as long as we’re—”
There’s a flash through the blinds and Katsuki’s immediately counting. Ten seconds this time, but the thunder is loud and there’s a large gust of wind that Katsuki can hear against the window. His chest tightens, hands shaking around Shouto’s wrist as he pulls him close and squeezes his skin with his fingers. His voice fucking shakes when he tries to talk and he can’t focus because his eyes are stuck on the curtain, searching for the next flash of lightning.
“Can we—can we just fucking go, already?” Katsuki moves his grip so he’s squeezing Shouto’s arm instead, “I’m not tired, I don’t wanna fucking go to sleep, I just wanna go, Shouto- we—we have to go or—”
“No, it’s fine—”
“We can’t fight against fucking storms,” Katsuki tells him, brows drawn, eyes wide. “Throwing explosions and punches at mother nature doesn’t fucking work—we can’t- beat a storm into submission or lock it behind bars and shit- and we can’t stop them when they’re here, either. They pass by and destroy shit and take lives and ruin homes and all we can fucking do is hide, we’re useless and—”
“They’re not always that dangerous, though,” Shouto’s calm when he’s speaking, glancing over Katsuki’s shoulder. “Unless there’s an alert of a weather emergency, we should be fine.”
“That doesn’t help.” Katsuki’s eyes burn.
“I’ll stay with you, then,” Shouto says.
He pulls Katsuki’s hands away from his arms and holds one in his instead, entwining their fingers. Katsuki watches as Shouto brings his knuckles to his lips. And he presses a soft, lingering kiss on them.
“It’s alright, you don’t have anything to worry about if I’m here.” He smiles, “I’ll protect you, like a knight. Because you’re my princess. Right? I promise.”
Reasonably, Katsuki knows Shouto can’t protect him from fucking—lightning. If anything- he’d make it worse. Way fucking worse. But he also knows that reasonably, he’s “safe” from the storm. And the stupid fear and anxiety is there. He’s always known being terrified of the flashes and the loud rumbles down to the point of stupid tears is irrational and just- plain fucking embarrassing, but he—well, he’s there. Still panicking and shit, despite knowing that, so.
Maybe that’s why he’s stupidly comforted by Shouto’s words. He also wants to argue that he doesn’t need his protection, but—the flash of lightning and the heavy rain, and the loud rumbles make him want to close his eyes and hide in Shouto’s arms, in his chest, makes him want Shouto to assure him that it’s fine, that they’re safe- that it’s going to be okay. He wants it—he wants Shouto to protect him.
Katsuki swallows and he nods. Shouto presses his fingers against Katsuki’s wet cheeks with a small smile and, oddly enough, it just makes Katsuki’s eyes burn more. There’s another flash that lights up the dim room and he counts to five before he’s jumping at the loud crack of thunder as tears spill over, squeezing the fabric of Shouto’s shirt and breathing heavy and fast into his chest. He just—just needs someone to hold onto, needs someone to be there, to hide in- and Shouto hugs him close, tight, exactly the way Katsuki needs to breathe a little easier.
Two minutes later and Katsuki’s heart is still drumming hard and fast against his chest (Shouto’s heart is so steady, so calm), breathing fast past his lips as he stares at a random spot in his dark room, wet cheek pressed against Shouto’s chest, fingers twisting Shouto’s shirt until his hands are itchy. Two more minutes pass, and it’s just heavy rain and gusts of wind against the window. He slowly pulls away and looks over his shoulder to check the window and make sure there are no flashes of lightning before focusing his attention on his bed.
Katsuki rubs his wet eyes with his arms, “We need—more fucking blankets.” He blinks away the tears when he faces Shouto again, “It’s… fuck, it’s stupid, but—”
Shouto shakes his head, “It’s not. The blankets will keep us extra safe.”
Katsuki knows Shouto’s just playing into it and he doesn’t even care. It’s fucking irrational, it’s stupid and it doesn’t make any sense, but blankets feel safe. Heavy, large, warm blankets are fucking safe. They always have been.
"Yeah," Katsuki nods, “they’ll keep us extra safe.”
Shouto smiles.
They end up making a blanket fort with Katsuki’s blanket and the two Shouto has from his own room.
It’s kind of a mess outside of the fort—they had to shift around the desk, chair—his bed in general, even, to keep up the blankets. The inside, though, is extremely comfortable with pillows and stuffed animals that Shouto hadn’t been aware Katsuki had, and a laptop to watch a movie while they wait for the storm to pass.
Shouto texts Deku and has him leave some snacks outside of Katsuki’s door so they can slide them in an entire five minutes after he’s left (Katsuki wanted to be extra sure), and go through them as they watch whatever cheesy, romance movie Shouto decides on.
They use one of Katsuki’s extra blankets to snuggle in and Shouto’s arms are wrapped securely around Katsuki—they’re strong and his chest is warm—as Katsuki plays with Shouto’s fingers, admiring his pretty white-painted fingernails. Shouto says he’s in his “Princess Element” like this. All soft and warm and wrapped up.
Shouto’s focused entirely on the movie, but Katsuki always catches his small smile when he brushes his lips against the tip of a finger.
Katsuki likes the fort; It’s harder to see the flashes of lightning in the dark of the blankets (and when his eyes are closed as his head rests against Shouto’s chest) so he isn’t anxiously counting the time between the flashes and the thunder—can’t tell how close the lightning is, which strangely feels better than knowing. Shouto takes his phone away, too, so he can’t check the forecast—which is anxiety-inducing and completely irritating at first, but fine in the long run.
When thunder does clap, though, Shouto covers Katsuki’s ears at the first sound of the rumble immediately, effectively blocks out the entire sound of it, and turns Katsuki’s face so he’s staring into Shouto’s eyes and has him focus on the pretty colors and nothing else.
“I’m here,” Shouto tells him. “You’re safe.”
And Katsuki nods.
“I’m safe,” he whispers. “You’re here.”