Archive of Our Own ^beta

The door rattled loudly as Katsuki entered the apartment and began toeing off his shoes. Grumbled curses blended together as he tried to juggle a grocery bag and his duffel bag and his keys and phone all at once. Why he always seemed to just be holding all of his things instead of putting them in his pockets when he came through the door was a mystery even to him. Maybe it gave him an excuse to come through the door already swearing and giving him a perfect way to release some tension from whatever he’d been forced to endure that day. Maybe it was just habit by now. Maybe it was because he kinda sorta wanted something to slip through his fingers. Only so that he could watch his fiancé dive to catch whatever it was as if it was precious or a live grenade or something - even though it was just his fucking keys. His keys did have a keyring shaped like his old gauntlets, but it wasn’t actually explosive. Ei wouldn’t let him ask Hatsume to make it happen. And then, when the thing would inevitably slip through his fingers and hit the floor, he’d turn up and smile apologetically as if it was more than a minor inconvenience to just bend down and pick it up. And it was disarmingly adorable every time. So sue him for opening up to the possibility of that happening, it was cute as fuck.

“Shit, fuck-” he stumbled and only just barely caught his phone before it slipped out of his hand and onto the floor. Today was maybe the one day he didn’t want to drop something and see his fiancé’s stupid embarrassed smile. “I’m home!”

The TV was on in the living room, filling the apartment with soft noise - just as it always did whenever Katsuki came home now that Eijirou was on leave. Katsuki sensed more than heard his fiancé’s socked feet against the wooden floor before he appeared in the doorway practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Hi, babe!” he exclaimed, adjusting the headband that had been displaced by the hurried rush to the hallway. “How was your day?”

Katsuki swore that Ei’s smile could light up the world with how bright it was, sharp teeth giving it that almost feral edge that made him weak in the knees. He took a second - just a second - to close his eyes and simply bask in Eijirou’s presence, acting as a balm against the world. He felt warm arms envelop him from behind and Ei’s broad chest against his back, and he let himself relax fully. 

“It was alright.” He took a deep breath and let the tension in his shoulders seep away as he exhaled before moving into the kitchen to put away the food he just bought. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” As he put away the meat for today’s dinner, he mumbled, almost as if he hoped that Ei wouldn’t hear him, which he knew he would no matter how hard he tried, “Deku went to the florist with me after work.”

“Oh yeah?” Of course Eijirou would be excited about their somewhat repaired relationship. When Katsuki only grunted in reply, Eijirou continued with a more somber tone. “What kind did you get?”

There was suddenly a lump in Katsuki’s throat, but he swallowed it down decidedly before opening his mouth to reply. 

“Ivy, Forget-Me-Nots and Magnolias.” His voice only cracked on the last word, but he turned his face away from his fiancé, determined to not let him see how much it affected him. 

The bouquet had been beautiful. Almost worthy of the person it was for. He quickly wiped at his eyes and shook his head to will the thoughts away. He didn’t want to ruin the rest of the evening with his moping. When he finally met Ei’s eyes again, his face was soft in that way that he insisted was empathy and not pity. Katsuki instinctively wanted to punch his face in to get rid of it, but the years had tempered him, and he shifted to wanting to kiss it all over until both of them felt better. Instead of doing any of those things, however, he turned back to his task of unpacking the groceries, choosing to listen intently as Eijirou spoke. 

“Those are some manly flowers.” His voice was soft and gentle, like a warm blanket around him on a cold winter’s day. “Did Deku help, or was it all you?”

Katsuki felt his cheeks redden. As much as he wanted to take credit for the entirety of the bouquet, Deku had helped. Just a little, but Bakugou Katsuki was not one to take credit for other people’s work. He wanted to earn it himself. 

“He helped with the Magnolias,” he grumbled. Even though he wanted to earn shit under his own power, he had trouble admitting to even needing help sometimes. Especially when it came to Deku, despite their reconciliation. Doubly so when he was helped and it turned out for the better. But he couldn’t hide from Eijirou any more; he had a tendency to see right through Katsuki’s deflections and get the truth in the end anyways. Why not just save himself the trouble?

As if those trains of thought summoned him, Eijirou chose that moment to smirk. 

“It’s nice that you can admit to that now, even if it’s just to me.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. This is what he had to deal with. He couldn’t keep anything from him anymore. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Katsuki complained - he did not whine - and went towards the knife rack in the corner. “Now get your mind-reading ass out of my kitchen. I’m making dinner.”

“Yes, sir!” Ei whooped and grinned excitedly as he hopped off the counter he had been sitting on, skipping back into the living room and resuming whatever mind-numbing show he was watching. 

With Ei out of his kitchen, Katsuki could get to work. He loved cooking. It was methodical and made perfect fucking sense, Sometimes it was even somewhat therapeutic. Even though Katsuki didn’t need therapy–technically–he still went for a few months back in high school at the behest of his teacher and his closest friends. Yes, it was Ei who finally made him actually go, but that’s beside the point. The point was that having something that could center him and bring him calm even when he was already agitated was apparently a Very Good Thing. That was why he always cooked for the two of them when they didn’t go out to eat or order takeout. Those moments were rare, though, due to Katsuki’s exemplary cooking of course. Eijirou couldn’t cook for shit. The second time he burned the rice he was permanently kicked from any task in the kitchen that was more strenuous than making cereal. Usually, Katsuki cooked while Eijirou washed the dishes, but today was a special day. He’d even made something with so much meat in it that he was sure they were going to walk around farting noxious gas powerful enough to knock out a hippo for the rest of the night. As usual, Katsuki held back on the spices. After five years together, Ei was still not good with food as spicy as Katsuki liked it. As such, Katsuki had to make do with a wide variety of hot sauces and condiments to bring it back up on the plate. Keeping an eye on the meat sizzling happily, he started to set the table and brought out a few beers for the two of them. Before long, he put the final touches to the two dishes and yelled towards the living room as he put the bowls on the kitchen table.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Ei hollered back and came shuffling into the kitchen, sniffing exaggeratedly with a wide smile. 

“Aaah,” Ei sighed as he sat down, “it smells so good!”

Katsuki couldn’t help but smirk back at the man. He always said that and looked so happy that  Katsuki’s chest almost hurt with how much his pride swelled. 

“Anytime,” he mumbled, fighting back a blush as he fumbled with his chopsticks. “Itadakimasu.”

“Itadakimasu!” 

As the food slowly disappeared, Katsuki told Ei about his day, and Ei somehow made him listen as he told him about the parts of Heroes Rising he liked best. Again. He’d told him about that stupid TV show several times—had even made him watch it with him once—but Katsuki found that he didn’t mind listening to Ei ramble about the things he liked. His stupid red eyes lit up with passion, and his usual sharp smile turned into something softer, happier , when Katsuki just let him. It was much more enjoyable to watch him while he rambled than to get annoyed by the fact that he’d heard all about how this or that hero had been grievously injured but the main character (also a hero, of course) saved their life by giving them their kidney or something. The details weren’t important; it’s not like Katsuki cared enough to remember Ei’s favorite scenes from the series or anything. (He totally did.) 

Katsuki’s favorite moments were when the villains got beaten and captured and, in a surprising turn of events, the few crack episodes that came along once a season or so. Last time the main character had been accidentally hit by a stray quirk that turned him into a toddler for three days. The episode had Katsuki howling with laughter as the other hero characters chased a naked and cackling toddler through the agency, somehow never managing to catch the brat. The entire plot of the episode reminded him of his remedial classes back in his first year at U.A., and a part of him felt vindicated by the heroes’ inability to handle the toddler. 

So he let Ei ramble on and on about scenes he’d most likely rewatched for the hundredth time today and just smiled back at him when they locked eyes. Once Katsuki’s bowl was empty, he excused himself for a moment and went into the hallway, opening the closet there and rummaging around for a little while. Where the hell did he put the thing again? Once he found what he was looking for, he went back to the table with his hands behind his back. 

“Hey, Ei?” He got his fiancé’s attention and swallowed down his nerves as he brought his hands in front, revealing a small box wrapped in red paper and a slightly mangled black bow. “Happy birthday.”

Ei looked down, and, when the words finally registered, his face lit up in a grin so wide Katsuki thought his face was going to split in half. His hands flew up to his mouth and he bounced in his seat as he giggled— giggled —at him. 

“KAT!” he yelled, standing up and bouncing from one foot to the other, still not grabbing his fucking present. “You didn’t have to get me anything!” 

“Of course I fucking did, Hair-for-Brains. I always get you something.” It was true. He couldn’t bear not making Eijirou happy, and thus he always gave him something on special occasions. And it was always thoughtful because Katsuki was an excellent gift giver. At least nowadays. The first few times he gave his friends (Yes, friends. He could admit to them being his friends now, so what?) gifts were near catastrophic. Ei finally told him, after Katsuki reluctantly asked him why Kaminari didn’t smile as widely at his Basic Electrics for Dummies book as he did for Sero’s Pikachu onesie in second year, that birthday gifts were less about what someone needs and more about what would make them happy. 

After that conversation, he stepped the fuck up on his gift giving. The year after, Kaminari got an entire set of Shakespeare’s works in the original English. Katsuki even made sure that the cover was pretty so that Kaminari would feel comfortable displaying that shit in a place of honor on his bookshelf. And when Kaminari cried upon opening the gift, there was the slightest, most minuscule of moments where Katsuki thought he fucked up again. But then Kaminari hugged him. And didn’t let go even when Katsuki started squirming and looking to Eijirou for help. To his horror, Eijirou was also crying, but he was also grinning so wide it must have hurt. That’s the moment Katsuki realized that he was the best fucking gift giver in the world , and no one was going to take that title from him. Ever. 

Eijirou smiled widely at him now but then looked down to his hands, frowning. 

“My hands are all greasy though! I’ll just go wash them, and I’ll meet you in the living room after?” 

He was gone before Katsuki could reply. He sighed deeply and put the fucking fantastic gift he got him on the kitchen table before putting away the dishes. When the birthday boy returned, Katsuki grabbed a few more beers and moved towards the couch. He popped the caps off and took a few sips as Ei slumped down onto the couch. They eventually settled on some kind of nature documentary that could be ignored while the two spent their time just talking to each other. 

“…and then fucking Deku comes in from nowhere and…”

“Gets all the credit?”

“EXACTLY!” Katsuki waved his arms around in frustration, slightly uncoordinated now, being a few beers in, and almost hitting Eijirou in the face. “Like I didn’t do shit !”

It had happened too many times to count during their first few years as pros, and Katsuki had spent almost a year seething before he exploded on both Deku and the media. The fallout wasn’t pretty, but Deku had endeavored to correct all further misdirected credit. Katsuki didn’t particularly like needing Deku to do that—he’d much rather the media see his efforts on their own—but the media was a fickle mistress, and Deku was undoubtedly better at handling her than Katsuki was. That admission had stung for months after. 

“But Deku cleared it all up, right?” 

“Of course he did! If he didn’t he would have been exploded off the planet by now.”

Eijirou laughed and it was the most beautiful sound Katsuki had ever been graced with. He silently feared the day his quirk would take away his hearing completely and he wouldn’t be able to hear the sound of Eijirou’s laugh ever again. That would probably be the day he—

“Hey,” Ei started, a smile on his face and his gaze somewhere far away. “Do you remember when Deku and Uraraka tried to punt Mineta into the sun?”

The laugh that exploded out of Katsuki’s mouth couldn’t be described as anything other than a cackle, and Eijirou looked so pleased that he’d managed to make him produce a sound like that. That had been a wonderful day. Katsuki didn’t have many things that he would call wonderful, but that day was something else. It was some time into their second year at UA, and Mineta had (once again) tried to spy on the girls in their changing room. Unluckily for him, Deku spotted him trying to sneak in via the vents and nabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Even more unfortunate was the fact that the baddest bitch of 2-A was right there with him, fuming at the sight. Katsuki was entranced watching the two most bubbly individuals in the class finally fucking snap. They dragged Mineta outside kicking and screaming, but they were unfazed by his antics. Katsuki popped his head into the boys’ changing room and yelled a simple ‘Mineta’s gonna die!’ because Ei would never forgive him if he missed even a second more than he absolutely had to. The entire class ended up following the miserable little Grape-ist to watch him face his untimely demise. 

Said demise took the form of Uraraka floating him and Deku charging up a nice, even 30% Full Cowling, fully prepared to ‘punt his ass into the sun’. Mineta cried. It was fucking awesome . And then Aizawa-sensei had to do his usual thing and ruin their good fun by erasing Deku and Uraraka’s quirks just before the super powered kick hit the bastard. He still flew a considerable distance, but the sun was ultimately out of their reach. Both Deku and Uraraka ended up with detention for their stunt, but it revealed that Aizawa couldn’t expel the Grape Fucker without documentation of his nasty-ass behavior. It quite literally opened the floodgates and every single girl in the school—as well as a majority of the boys and the theys in 2-A and 2-B—instantly filed complaints. The fucker was out of the school before Deku and Uraraka’s stint in detention was over. It wasn’t as glorious an end as Katsuki wanted, but in the end the bastard was gone and barred from heroing for the foreseeable future, and that would have to do. For now. If he ever saw the dickhead he’d take any chance he could to repeat the attempt at punting him into the sun, and he was sure the rest of their class was thinking along the same lines. 

“How long was their detention again?” Ei’s voice filtered through his trip down memory lane. “Like, two days or something?” 

“Something like that, probably,” Katsuki replied, taking another sip of beer only to find the bottle empty once again. He tilted his head towards Eijirou, the room spinning just a bit at the motion, and gestured with his bottle. “Want another?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

With only a little bit of stumbling, Katsuki made his way into the kitchen, fumbling for another beer in the fridge. He knew he shouldn’t drink too much, he had work in the morning after all, but today had been heavy and he knew that if he let up even a little, everything would come crumbling down. There was a lump in his throat and he swallowed repeatedly to get rid of it, blinking furiously to keep the mounting tears from spilling down his face. He could do this. Everything is fine. Don’t think about it. When all evidence of his near breakdown was gone, he returned to the couch and his fiancé with his beer, flopping down unceremoniously. 

“You okay?”

God damn it, this man. He could read him so easily. But he was fine. He was fine . A grunt and a nod was enough to steer clear of that conversation, at least, and they returned their attention to the TV. At some point over the next few minutes, Ei settled his head next to Katsuki’s thigh, lying sideways on the couch like he always did. His stupid, less-shitty-than-normal hair fell like red silk across his neck, looking as soft as a kitten’s downy fur. How it managed to be that soft when he gelled it up every day was a goddamn mystery and Katsuki itched to run his fingers through it, to feel that silky texture against his fingers. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not today. Not when he was barely—

“I love you, Katsuki.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, and he almost choked on his beer before he looked down towards the redhead. At some point, Ei had turned to lie on his back, looking up at Katsuki’s face with a soft, happy smile. He hated how much he loved that look. It was so stupid and sappy, and it made Katsuki sick how much he wanted to see that look on Ei’s face every single day for the rest of forever. It made him remember many moments just like this. The soft ones, even from before they got together. But the words… The words always sucker-punched him. How Eijirou could say them so easily and casually was so hard to wrap his head around. Katsuki always had to force them out. He couldn’t just say them like Ei did. No, he had to make dinner or clean or bring him lunch or some other bullshit before he was even close to being able to say the words. Granted, he’d become better at it over the years, but he could only say them when Ei had said them first and only with great effort. Why, why , did he have to be so emotionally constipated?

“I know, Ei,” he finally got out with a smirk, only to be met with a playful pout. These were the hoops they had to jump through to get Katsuki to actually say the words . Despite his self-flagellation, Katsuki snorted at the sight of Ei’s puppy eyes, and his bottom lip jutted so far out that it should be considered its own entity. The sight was pathetic, but it made him finally relent, and he grumbled, “Love you too.”

Katsuki swore he saw Ei’s eyes sparkle before he closed them, relaxing into the couch cushions and Katsuki’s lap. A pleased hum vibrated in his throat and a smile spread across his relaxed face as he clutched a fist to his heart. 

“So manly,” he whispered and dabbed exaggeratedly at the corners of his eyes, wicking away the minuscule amounts of moisture that had gathered there. Katsuki scoffed at the dramatics, but couldn’t help but smile down at him. The way Ei reacted to the words once Katsuki actually got them out made the entire process worth it because he knew that, despite the theatrical tears, Ei really was that moved by hearing him say it. To be able to do that to someone he loved, when he usually only brought anger or annoyance to the people around him, meant the world to him. As he studied his redhead’s face—probably with more naked affection than he intended, but it didn’t matter because he wasn’t looking anyway—Ei’s radiant smile faded into something softer, and he murmured, knowing that despite Katsuki’s shit hearing he’d be heard with perfect clarity: “The first time you said that was probably the best day of my life.” 

Ei’s eyes opened and they didn’t even need to search the room before they found Katsuki’s own. Katsuki swore he could feel his teeth begin to rot away from the fond, sweet look on Ei’s face as they looked at each other. Katsuki really should be used to this… sappiness or whatever, but he still could only take so much before he felt a need to deflect. 

“Tch,” Katsuki snorted. “That’s fucking sad, Ei.” 

He hadn’t even meant to say it. It just slipped out at the end of a phone call, and Katsuki didn’t even realize until he’d already hung up. It was way too early for that kind of stuff. They weren’t even dating, and he’d already fucked up. He was sure he had definitely scared him off with that display, if there was ever a chance to begin with and spent over an hour beating himself up before caving to the loud protests of his stomach. Finally mustering enough courage to go downstairs, he’d avoided everyone—especially Eijirou—as he’d made some food and practically ran back to his dorm as soon as his food was ready. 

Not even ten minutes later, Eijirou had come knocking on his door demanding to talk to him. And like the courageous bad-ass that he was, who feared nothing in this world or the next, he’d ignored him to the best of his ability. Embarrassment—shame even—had filled his entire being, and he wasn’t able to let it go any time soon. 

But then he’d heard it. 

Through the door. 

An almost imperceptible whisper. 

I love you too, damn it . 

He had stilled completely. Not daring to hope and with his heart in his throat, he’d opened the door for his best friend. 

Are you serious? He’d asked, faint sparks of hope catching on whatever fuel was inside of his chest. 

Yeah , Ei had said. I love you, Katsuki . 

And then he’d leaned forward and captured Katsuki’s lips with his own, and Katsuki had felt almost high on the euphoria rushing through his veins. They’d spent the rest of the evening in Katsuki’s room, making out like the hormonal teenagers they were.

“I don’t think so.” Ei’s soft look refused to budge at Katsuki’s deflection and instead evolved into a downright adoring one. He lifted one hand to Katsuki’s cheek, looking as if he held his entire world in his palm. “It was perfect.”

Okay, this was absolutely going too far down the road to disgustingly sappy, and Katsuki felt a burning need to deflect, again . 

“Tch.” He dismissed, cheeks pink from either alcohol or embarrassment, but he tried his best to repress whatever put the traitorous color there. “Woulda’ thought the first time we fucked woulda’ been better.” Katsuki smirked down at Ei in challenge, slurring his words a little. 

“Hah!” Ei laughed, granting Katsuki a view of his sharp-toothed smile, bright with a simple joy that was so hard to come by nowadays. “That was great, too. And you’re amazing in bed, Kats, no doubt about it.” He patted him reassuringly on the arm, somehow managing to not make the gesture condescending in the slightest. “But that day… it was just special , you know?”

Katsuki smiled and took another sip of beer, letting the silence voice his agreement. It was special. 

“Whatever you say, Ei.” Katsuki hesitated before plowing on, inhibitions lowered by beer and the fact that he feared nothing . “The proposal though?”

“Oh yeah!” Ei smiled, his eyes having that faraway look he had when he thought fondly of the things they did together. “That was fantastic too!” He blinked back to himself, shaking his head and adopting a mock-serious look before continuing. “But it’s my second favorite.”

Katsuki laughed, teasingly going in for a boop on his nose before diverting at the last second. “You’re such a fuckin’ sap, Ei.”

“Sure am!” Ei winked. “And you love me anyways.”

“Hmpf, I guess.” At Ei’s playful glare, Katsuki relented and sighed deeply. “I love you anyways.” See, he could say it. He just needed some lowered inhibitions for it to be so easily drawn out of him. 

Katsuki drained his beer and stood to get another, but before he’d shuffled away from the couch enough to have the room to teeter towards the kitchen, Eijirou frowned at him, freezing him in his tracks. 

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Katsuki.” 

Katsuki stared at him incredulously, hot anger clawing at his throat, desperate to get out. How could he say that? He had no idea what was going on. All that mind-reading shit he seemed to be doing every hour of every day, and he still didn’t get it? What did his therapist call it again? A coping mechanism? If anyone, he thought that Ei would be the one to understand. He gritted his teeth and crushed the anger viciously back into the little box it bubbled out of. A single-minded refusal to allow his temper to ruin their night was the only thing keeping Katsuki from blowing up right then and there. Today was special. They couldn’t keep doing this. 

“Shut it, Ei,” he ground out from between gritted teeth, looking away from the love of his life and the no doubt dismal look on his face. 

“I mean it.” Katsuki whipped his head to face Eijirou so fast his neck cracked with the motion and the room swirled in the edges of his vision. That was not the tone of voice of someone being sad. Instead, it was heart-brokenly firm, nearly cracking at the end. “You’ve had enough.”

Katsuki’s box containing his anger rattled, and he mentally sat on top of its lid in an effort to contain it. It did little to contain his mounting irritation however, and he narrowed his eyes, raising his chin in challenge. 

“Don’ tell me wha’ to do,” Katsuki growled. You have no idea what it’s like went unsaid, but Ei seemed to pick up on the meaning behind the words anyways.

“I’m not, but—”

“Then shut. Up ,” Katsuki interrupted and swiped Eijirou’s still full beer off the living room table, waving off a fly that hovered around the lip. 

“You can’t keep doing this.” Eijirou’s voice definitely cracked this time. Or maybe Katsuki just imagined it because Ei was frowning when he turned to look him in the eyes. 

Whatever . 

“Watch me.” And Katsuki downed the entire bottle of lukewarm beer.

A year ago, the disappointment Eijirou displayed would have sent Katsuki reeling in shame and regret. Now, he stared back into those red, red eyes and dared him to do something. 

“Katsuki.” Eijirou frowned, but his eyes were still soft. Why were they still soft? He was supposed to be sad. Or angry. Like all the others Katsuki had tried to push away. He just— He couldn’t — The knowing looks. The pity. The constant demands that he take care of himself. It was all too much. 

The box in his chest rattled in his fierce grip. 

“You’re hurting yourself, and you need to stop.” 

The fingers keeping his boxed fury at the world—at himself, at Eijirou—at bay twitched, and the snap from the cracked wood was almost loud enough to be heard. For a moment there was silence. A breath between eternities where nothing happened. Then the box bubbled and churned, and fire leaked out from between the cracks, too wild and furious to be stopped no matter how much Katsuki tried to reign himself in. His throat burned . 

“SHUT UP , EI!” He emphasized his outburst with an explosion. His empty beer bottle careened into the wall where it left shards of glass embedded in the drywall. He whirled back around, unable to stop the words from crawling their way out. “IT’S NOT LIKE YOU CAN STOP ME ANYWAYS!”

Eijirou didn’t even flinch at his outburst. He just stared at him, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Katsuki’s chest was heaving, breaths escaping in great gasps and pants in shock of what just poured out of his mouth. He tried desperately to keep the crushing reality at bay, but it crept ever closer as the walls he had built crumbled like ash from a paper fire. He gulped, trying to regulate his breathing and get rid of the growing lump in his throat. In a great show of irony, his mouth was dry as the desert sands while his lips were speckled with spit, brought out by the explosion of his words. Neither spoke. Until Eijirou broke eye contact and looked down at his feet. 

“I know.” 

His voice was a whisper, the touch of a flower petal against Katsuki’s crumbling fortifications, the soft, reverent touch of a lover, and it b r o k e him. His knees wobbled before he collapsed to the floor, burying his face in his hands in a vain effort to hold back the tears falling down his cheeks like lamenting waterfalls. 

“I just—” His voice was wet with emotion as it cracked and caught in his throat. Hands fell away from his face, shoulders slumped in defeat for the first time since that day , and he finally, finally , met Eijirou’s wide, concerned eyes. “I miss you so much , Ei.” 

This time, Katsuki’s voice was a broken whisper, forced out through the splintered glass in his throat. He swallowed, trying to dislodge the shards threatening to choke him and looked dejectedly at where his knees met the dirty, off-white carpet with eyes unfocused and glassy, vision blurry either from emotion or the tears continuously falling in great rivulets down his face. 

“And I never said it enough, but I—” he continued thickly, his voice grating, before stopping to swallow once more. “I love you so much it hurts . And I—” A sob wrenched its way out of his heaving chest, and he clutched his hand over his heart as if to keep it from falling out, bleeding, hurting, broken and in pieces onto the stained carpet. His throat worked to get the words out, but nothing could get past the agonizing mass that shredded him from within. With an avalanche of effort and a refusal to let his own body reign victorious over his mind, Katsuki braced himself against the floor and powered through by roaring into the void that was their apartment: “I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!”

The box was empty. 

It was almost silly how it was full enough to burst earlier when now it was hollow enough to almost crumple inwards. In what remained of Katsuki’s locked box was a waft of smoke, slowly lifting upwards with every heaving sob that wracked through him. His body convulsed, and the smoke started to dissipate, leaving pain and grief in its wake. Katsuki was pretty sure he was hyperventilating, and the black spots in his vision melded into the stains on the once white carpet where he knelt. His chest ached where he held it together, his fingertips bruising, but it was all he could do to keep his heart inside. If he let go for even a second, he was sure that there would be no going back. They’d find him, broken and bleeding out on the floor with his heart in his hands, if he dared to let go. And He. Would. Not. Lose. No matter how tempting it was. 

Just as his mind started to spiral into ever more dangerous circles, he could feel it. Phantom fingers brushed soothing, spectral circles on his back, and he could feel the strain in his chest ease up ever so slightly. As he painstakingly put the pieces of his heart back together again, glued together with nothing but hope and a prayer, he felt himself able to breathe again. Slowly, the spots in his vision vanished, leaving his eyes trained on a stained and damp carpet. His clawing hand left his chest, trembling in fear and shame and grief, and he hoped with his entire being that one day it might not feel as broken as it was now. He blinked, and with a deep breath he raised his eyes to meet his fiancé’s, kneeling by his side. The living room table behind him, littered with bottles of different sizes and colors, shone through his chest, and the reminder of the harsh reality made Katsuki’s heart ache all over again. 

“I wish—” he whispered, voice rough and thick through his tears, “I wish you were still here, Eijirou.”

Eijirou sniffed and his face crumpled, tears of his own falling down his face, only to never reach the carpet underneath them both. 

“I know,” he responded solemnly. “So do I.”

For a long time, they stayed like that, gazing into each other’s eyes as they both let their tears fall, wishing for just one more day . Eventually, the headache growing behind Katsuki’s eyes overcame him, and he collapsed to the floor, sobbing with a stillness that no one but Eijirou had ever seen in the otherwise explosive man. Eijioru found his place next to his fiancé, concerned eyes looking him over. Their hands reached out between them, unable to comfort or be comforted by the other’s presence. Katsuki’s seemingly never-ending sobs were interspersed with a litany of I love you, I love you, I love you , but eventually even those petered out as unconsciousness claimed him, wrung out and exhausted. Eijirou pressed close to his ear, leaving him with a whispered, I love you too, Katsuki , before slowly fading away in time with Katsuki’s deepening breaths. 

And once again, Katsuki was alone in the apartment they used to share, surrounded by empty beer bottles and plates half-full of old food. On the coffee table lay a deceptively simple box, half-covered by used napkins. Its velvet surface was nearly worn down from constant handling, and the grime of the apartment had very little surface to cling to. Inside, if one were to open the box, one would find a simple gold band, inlaid with a single orange garnet. The engraving, which hot hands didn’t even need to see to read, so much had his fingers twisted it between them, read: From Katsuki, with love . 

It was supposed to be the best day of the rest of their lives.