Chapter Text
When Katsuki wakes up in the morning, long before the sun shines and the birds start to chirp, he takes a few moments to admire the man in his arms.
He looks at the soft strands of dark green hair that lays on their silk pillow cases. He admires the way that freckled nose twitches as he sleeps, something so small, but so cute. Katsuki looks at the strong, crooked fingers that grip the sheets beneath them; that grip his arms in a way that says
Please don’t leave.
And Katsuki would never leave. His home is wrapped up in the sheets of their bed, the sunrise illuminating every individual perfectly imperfect freckle, and all he can do is just stare in awe because—
Wow.
Izuku is the most beautiful being he’s ever seen.
And sure, Katsuki has to think about the mountain of chores he needs to do, the sweeping, the mopping, the cooking, the everything.
But for a moment, he can forget about all of that. He takes in the fact that Izuku is breathing, chest rising and falling in a way so normal, but in their jobs, it’s considered a blessing. He looks at the dribble of drool that leaks onto the pillow and smiles fondly because he knows Izuku just got in a couple of hours before, and he wants to make sure the freckled man gets as much rest as he needs.
Katsuki lets himself be swept up by the fact that Izuku continues to forgive, and forgive and forgive him for everything he’s ever done. The man not only has feelings for him, but made decisions to date him, marry him, and even buy a house with him.
He’s not worthy of seeing Izuku, dopey smile on his face, sleep-deprived as ever, work on their painting renovations at 3 am because Katsuki couldn’t decide on the right color. Katsuki doesn’t deserve to hold him, kiss him, love him through sickness and in health. For richer and poorer.
When he’s saving and when he’s winning.
But for some reason, Izuku is adamant about telling him that he deserves all of that and more. And Katsuki, greedy as can be, takes it and lives in it because how could he not want to be loved by Midoriya Izuku.
Well, Bakugo Izuku now.
So sometimes, Katsuki has to wake up in the morning and just take a few moments to admire Izuku because every day he is in disbelief that the life he gets to live is really his.
And when Izuku scrunches his nose and opens his eyes, wide and as gleeful as can be with only 3 hours of sleep, he’s enamored. So much so that he has to pull Izuku close, breath in the strawberry vanilla shampoo, and hold him there, just for a moment.
And when he pulls back and kisses the top of Izuku’s head, waiting for the smile that pulls those freckled cheeks, he says—
“Good morning, ‘Zuku.”