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Fighting alongside Shouto always fires Katsuki up. They don't often patrol in the same areas (the whole, greatness should be spread out, don't put all your eggs in one basket crap), but he fuckin' loves kicking ass with his boyfriend.
He feels energy coarse through his arms, nitroglycerin building up in his gauntlets as he fires off a large explosion towards the villain in question, but he just opens his proboscis and laughs as his arm regenerates on the spot. Without his attire it's a gross fuckin' thing, all fuzzy like a hairy caterpillar that can go metamorphosize right fuckin' now, please.
"Aim for the head!" Deku shouts, like Katsuki's an idiot.
"Don't tell me what to do!" Katsuki yells back, and does an AP shot right at the fucker's head (just as he intended to without input thank you very fuckin' much).
Shouto's quiet, but there's a stream of fire that makes the explosion brighter, burning off the villain's ugly ass mosquito head. Action and no dumbass words, just how Katsuki likes it.
The villain sinks to his knees, and Shouto approaches quickly, a pair of quirk cancelling cuffs already in his hands. Katsuki eyes it.
Fuck. There's a time and place, but he's riding the high of beating a shitty villain, and celebrating with kinky handcuff sex is the perfect finish. Time: ASAP; place: their apartment. Boom, bam, perfect fuckin' plan.
Except-
(not quite).
Katsuki sees Deku come forth, prepared to assist if things go south when the villain lunges, arm gripping Deku's and he falls with a yelp. Shouto freezes the villain to the ground and manages to get the cuffs on him, but there's a split second of contact between them-
Katsuki feels his heart drop, and he's fuckin' flying forwards to catch his boyfriend. He lays Shouto on the ground with all the care he can muster, before turning to the villain.
He's fuckin' pissed.
But the cops come swarming through, apprehending the villain before Katsuki can blow his fuckin' brains in for hurting Shouto.
Shouto, whose eyes are wide open, locked on Katsuki's with a hint of fear. He's- shaking slightly, trembling, and Katsuki feels his heart clench at the vulnerable sight.
"I've got you," Katsuki's saying, holding onto Shouto and scanning him for any injuries. "I've got you, Shou."
"F'ls weird," Shouto slurs out. Sweat beads on his forehead, and Katsuki wipes it off, brushing his bangs aside.
Katsuki swallows. "I'm gonna move you, ok? There's an ambulance right there, just hold on."
Shouto nods imperceptibly, and Katsuki heaves him in a bridal carry. This is the exact position he'd imagine them acting out in their bedroom, but the circumstances has his stomach rolling.
Fuck. The villain was a whole unknown, and they had little idea of the effects of his quirk. Katsuki rushes Shouto over to the ambulance, and hopes for the best.
A paramedic sees them, already preparing a bed.
"The villain used his quirk," Katsuki explains. "Unknown."
He sits beside Shouto, holding his hand. Deku gets put in the other bed, completely knocked out but still shaking. Fuck.
"K'suki," Shouto murmurs.
"M'here, baby," Katsuki answers, and traces hearts on Shouto's clammy fingers. "You're gonna be fine, y'hear?! Some shitty F rank villain isn't gonna take you out."
Shouto hums, then whimpers out another, urgent, "K'suki."
He trembles, then lurches violently and cries out as he starts- changing, shrinking. The hand Katsuki held slips out of his hand, and he's reaching for it, but it turns a visceral pink, fingers fusing, flesh turning sticky, smaller, smaller-
Katsuki stares in horror at the red and white worm on the stark white sheets.
There's a clattering of equipment, paramedic startling backwards as she gasps. His eyes shift to the other bed, where a green cockroach lies still. The sight would be enough to make him pull a face too, if he wasn't so fuckin' worried about Shouto being a worm.
Shouto's a worm.
Katsuki's caught filtering between shock, panic, and concern. There’s a storm, anger in the clouds of black, and he feels fury seeping through the sky, but- it isn't what Shouto needs right now.
Shouto starts to wriggle awkwardly, inching to burrow under the sheets.
Katsuki wonders if Shouto knows he's a worm; if he's still a person underneath the invertebrate, or if he's really, truly becomes this small wriggling thing with little consciousness. He's not sure what hurts more, but-
either way it's Shouto. Katsuki kneels slightly and holds out his hand to the worm. Shouto rises slowly, tilting a third of his body like he's tilting his head. Katsuki bites his lip, and Shouto starts to inch towards him instead. When he reaches the hand, he curls up around Katsuki's finger in the same place they usually wear their promise rings to each other.
It's tucked under his costume now, the cool metal always on his bare chest. It serves as a reminder of who's waiting for him at home.
Katsuki stares at Shouto, wrapped tight around his finger. He- he's not sure what he is, or how much of Shouto he has left. But quirks transformations rarely last forever.
Until then, he'll guard the worm around his finger with his fuckin' life.
"Dynamight-san," the paramedic interrupts. He turns, and sees her with cupped palms. She holds a surprising amount of composure for the green daymare in her hands. "Could you care for Deku-san as well?"
No. Nope. Katsuki has a healthy relationship with setting fuckin' boundaries, and having Deku in his sacred space, in cockroach form no less, is crossing it.
"Nah," he says. "But I'll get someone to look after him."
Yeah. Katsuki knows just the person for this job.
.
Katsuki used to fuckin' love bugs. He'd catch them when he was little, cupping fireflies in small hands and watching light flicker between the cracks of his fingers. They'd fly out when he opened his palms, but one remained still, and he remembered the awe he felt at being chosen. It's one of the stillest he'd ever been.
He'd scoop dirt into a bucket and call it a worm's home, bringing the pail home and then right back out again, his old hag yelling at him to ‘not leave any dirt in my house, y'hear?!’ So he'd go back to the forest in the dwindling daylight, and unpack the dirt and the worm right on top, watching it slither away from him, like it wasn't grateful to see the world beyond the soil.
It's shithead mentality, he knows. There's a sanctity to life, and he'd be damned if he messed with a worm's life for his fun again.
But, now-
there's a tiny half red half white worm on his finger. Now that the adrenaline's worn off, he can make out the slight temperature difference. He reaches out a pinkie and strokes the white side, hints of frost flickering across.
"Still got your quirk, huh," Katsuki says, and Shouto clings on tighter.
A worm with one of the most powerful quirks he's ever seen. What a fuckin' world.
"Let's get you home," Katsuki murmurs.
He slams his locker shut and heaves his duffel bag over one shoulder, ready to be done with the fuckin' day. The police interrogated the guy, said that the quirk lasts a day max which is just fuckin' peachy. It's fine, it's fine. He already takes care of Shouto when he's a fully grown human, taking care of a worm shouldn't be the hardest shit he's faced.
He keeps his hand in his pockets when he's walking to their shared apartment. The sun is still shining out of its ass, and he knows how detrimental it is for worms.
His phone keeps buzzing, and he already knows who's bugging him (fuckin' ha). Round Cheeks had been a mixture of shock and horrified, and he wonders if she's made peace with the two emotions yet. Judging by the constant buzzing, it might be a no.
When he gets home he gets out a large container. It's meant to be for freezing their food for leftovers, but not anymore, bitches. He wanders to the balcony, where a bag of soil is propped beside the wall, and pours in a good amount. Then, carefully, carefully, he tries to put Shouto in the more suitable environment.
Shouto does not move.
Katsuki clicks his tongue. "Oi, Halfie. You're gonna dehydrate if you don't get in there."
Fuck. Seems like worm Shouto is just as stubborn as human Shouto, huh. Katsuki's usual go to method would be reasoning, or a fuckin' kiss, or a kiss while fucking (y'know, that healthy communication shit), but all three options can be scratched off the list right fuckin' now.
"You wanna die?" Katsuki scowls.
He feels misplaced annoyance bubble up again at the surface. He tamps it down, down. It must be uncomfortable for Shouto, and it speaks volumes that he'd rather be nestled around Katsuki's finger than in a more appropriate environment.
He's scared, maybe- probably, by the way he hasn't let go once. Katsuki's heart softens, goo to liquid.
"What if I carry you around," Katsuki offers, and it comes out soft. He goes to the kitchen, gets a jar and fills it with soil. "I'll bring you wherever I go, yeah? Except the toilet.”
Shouto seems amenable to this. The heat and cold dissipates as he slides off Katsuki's finger and into the soil. Red and white slithers down the soil, invisible until he pops up in the sides of the glass where Katsuki's holding it.
Katsuki stares at Shouto. There's no eyes, but he likes to imagine that he's looking at em anyways, likes to imagine they're crinkled in a smile. The soft one he has, just for Katsuki.
Shouto tilts his head, and Katsuki presses a finger to the jar, booping him. He likes to imagine soft laughter, a breathy huff, maybe a whine and a Katsuki~ that has him swooping for a kiss. They're touchy. Actions are louder than words, and Katsuki's louder, expressing I love yous in an embrace, peeled oranges, carrying his worm boyfriend in a jar.
There's a flicker of fog on the glass, the smallest flicker of flame condensing that gets put out by the soil. Katsuki's eyebrows crease, and he lets his finger linger a while longer. Shouto seems to like contact, even with a glass barrier standing between them.
"Still clingy, huh," Katsuki remarks, and there's another smattering of flame before Shouto- retreats. He gets the tail end of candy cane before Shouto completely disappears in the soil. "Oi!"
He'd usually meet Shouto's retreats by grabbing his hand before he can storm off because communication is key, baby. (Yeah he sucks at it, but whatever. He's trying, they're both fuckin trying and they're making it work.) But the thought of reaching into the jar and dangling Shouto by the tail end feels all types of wrong. Like picking up a defenseless animal by the scruff for confrontation.
"Shou," Katsuki tries. He sets down the jar on the counter. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. I like it when you're close."
He cringes because it's corny as fuck, but he stands his ground. He does like it when Shouto's close. There was a time when they were still working out how to fit together. Shouto bordered on wanting to hold hands to sticking at the far end of the couch like a stray cat, like he still wasn't sure of what he could and couldn't do.
Katsuki had told him he could do anything he fuckin' wanted to be comfortable, and the hesitancy of touch slowly dissipated like fire to smoke to remnants of grey.
(It's nice, being close.)
Soil moves every which way as Shouto makes his way back to Katsuki's voice. He looks at a faceless face, imagines a pout and maybe a demand of 'kiss me,' maybe a linking of pinkies.
Katsuki imagines, and longs for the real thing. Shouto better return as himself soon.
.
The setting sun has Katsuki flicking on the kitchen lights. One of the light bulbs had broken, and he'd planned to buy a new one and fix it today but, well. Plans change, people fuckin' change too.
Katsuki sets the jar on the island, and starts heating up leftovers. He sets the yakisoba in the microwave for two minutes to get that shit piping hot and ready to burn his tongue, then gets out some strawberries for Shouto to eat.
He doesn't know if worms can eat noodles, but Todoroki cold soba Shouto will have to deal without it for a few hours longer. It's amusing, until he realizes that everything that made him Shouto is stripped from him as a worm. It's depressing, after that.
But- strawberries. A constant. Katsuki cuts them in even slices, then smaller still. He spots a stripe of red and white peeking from above the soil, curious, and he lets out a little smile at the sight.
The microwave beeps, and he gathers chopsticks before placing everything on a tray and to the kotatsu. He puts the diced strawberries in the jar, but Shouto just looms over them, still facing Katsuki.
His heart aches.
"Itadakimasu," Katsuki says, and if he thinks hard enough, he can hear Shouto's voice joining in.
Meals for one were always lonelier. He's not sure what to make of this one.
But when he eats, Shouto finally starts to eat away at the strawberries too. That, at least, hasn't changed.
The routine makes it a little less alien, and if he followed it in the next steps, he’d start talking by now. One-sided conversations always feel awkward as fuck but, well. He’ll endure it for Shouto’s sake.
(When he catches Shouto raptured at his every word, he knows it’s right the call.)
.
Katsuki looks at anywhere but the worm when he sets the glass down by the sink. Everywhere but the toilet his ass. When he tried to leave, he spotted Shouto following him, like someone running hopelessly after a car much faster than them. It looked too fuckin' sad, and Katsuki has a heart believe it or fuckin' not.
He avoids Shouto's eyeless gaze as he brushes his teeth for two whole minutes. He swills water around his mouth, then spits out bloody foam. Clean teeth, fuckers.
His orange toothbrush joins the blue one in the cup, and he wipes his face before taking the jar with him when he leaves for the bedroom. It's already nearing nine, which means bedtime, which means hopefully this mess will be over the next time he opens his eyes.
He sets the jar on the bedside, and whispers an oyasumi to Shouto. The lamp turns off, room black.
It's cold under the covers. He reaches an arm forward, then retreats it back to his side. He turns to his other side and curls up, holding the blankets tightly as he sleeps alone.
.
Katsuki wakes up, arms wrapped around nothing. The other side remains cold, and he blinks in the dark, clock rattling out 3 AM in neon orange. There's a vague sense of disappointment, blurred in the fog of sleep he's still under. He feels a familiar weight around his finger though- warm and cold and fuckin’ hell.
But he's not about to banish Shouto back to the soil. He's stubborn, they both are, but Katsuki is too tired to do anything but mumble a ‘don’t fuckin die on me' before falling back asleep.
Shouto stays put.
.
Dreams come easy. They start off slow, a lull of colour, and then Shouto's there. He's smiling in his hero suit, one side ripped from a villain attack. One foot steps forward, then another and he's breaking into a run to Katsuki, whose arms are outstretched.
"I've missed you," Katsuki says into Shouto's hair, arms embracing nothing-
nothing,
nothing
(there'ssomethingontheground).
"It's permanent, you know," a voice whispers, and all Katsuki sees are large compound eyes.
He sees every single ommatidia enlarged like he's in a hive of them, and he sees himself, himself and-
(there's something on the ground)
"K'suki," something on the ground says,
no
mouth.
(but Katsuki hears it reverberate round and around and round and the hive closes in and
k'suki / k'suki / k'suki /
his mangled name on a mangled tongue.)
.
"Katsuki."
Katsuki opens his eyes and is on the verge of blowing up. He feels his bangs stick to his forehead, sheets damp with nitroglycerin lacing its pores.
"Katsuki?"
He looks up, heart beating in its chest like artillery falling in a shooting range.
"Shouto," he utters, and his boyfriend smiles softly. There's worry in his eyes, but he doesn't press (not yet).
"Tadaima," Shouto says, and Katsuki huffs a breath; another, another.
Shouto pushes back his bangs tenderly, then wraps his arms around Katsuki tightly. It takes a second, thumpthumpthump and he holds back just as hard. He's holding on, he's holding on, and he's real, he's real.
"Okaeri," Katsuki answers, and breathes in Shouto's scent. Fuck he's missed him.
"Missed you," Shouto admits, small in the crook of Katsuki's neck.
Katsuki pats Shouto's hair, tangible. "Missed you too. You... Do you remember what happened?"
"Mrpgh," Shouto says, and detaches himself in favour of lying down. He's pretty like this, hair caught in the rays of the rising sun, splayed across Katsuki's lap. "I do. It's a foul quirk."
"Tell me about it," Katsuki grimaces, then catches Shouto scrunching his nose. "Or don't."
Shouto breathes deep, and Katsuki cards a finger through silky strands of red and white. He scratches at his scalp, hears the content sigh. Certified cat behaviour, this one.
"It was... upsetting," Shouto settles with. He holds Katsuki's hand over his chest, thumbing at the promise ring. "I was still- me. But I couldn't physically or mentally express anything I wanted to."
So he'd been aware after all. It's horrifying to imagine, worse to actually fuckin' live through.
"I could sense where you were, and somewhat understand you," Shouto continues, and his eyes flicker to crimson ones with a small smile. "I sensed someone I knew I trusted."
"You have good senses," Katsuki teases, in lieu of something more appropriate. But Shouto just pinches his side in retaliation, a spark in his eyes. "But fuck, Shou... I'm glad you're back. I’m sorry you had to endure that shit."
Shouto squeezes Katsuki’s hand. He lets out a breath, and it comes out shuddering. Quietly, "it was scary. I wish I wasn't as sentient as I was."
"I wish it hadn't happened at all," Katsuki says darkly.
"It's part of the job," Shouto says, and it's meant to be light but it comes out heavy, anchor sinking to murky depths of the ocean.
There’s a beat,
two.
Shouto laces his fingers with Katsuki’s. "But I don’t want to ruin our day off. I'm grateful to be back."
“You could never ruin anything,” Katsuki says. “If you wanna talk about being a worm the whole day, I’ll listen.”
He would. It wouldn’t exactly be what he had in mind for their day off, but if it meant helping Shouto, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
A ghost of a smile flickers on Shouto's face at that, the mischievous one that could mean anything from ‘are you Best Jeanist’s lovechild?’ to ‘I’m horny’.
"Well, maybe one last thing," Shouto says.
"What?"
"Did you still love me when I was a worm?" The ghost flickers back into mortal plane, smile crinkling his eyes prettily.
"I love you because you're Shouto," Katsuki declares. "In any form. Worms fuckin' included."
"Oh." A warm glow settles on Shouto's cheeks.
"But I like you best like this," Katsuki concludes, and pushes Shouto's bangs away. Like this he places a kiss to his forehead, and his eyes flutter shut instinctively. "Can't kiss a worm, can I?"
Shouto snarks, "you could-“
Katsuki feels the smile in the kiss, sees it when he pulls away moments later. Kissing Shouto feels like flying close to the sun and beating Icarus. It’s warm, leaving a heat in his belly, fuzz in his mind. He’s so fuckin’- happy that Shouto’s back.
"Katsuki," Shouto says, and eyes crinkle. "Thank you for taking care of me."
Katsuki holds Shouto tighter. "Always."
(The bed is warm, just how it should be.)
fin.