Work Text:
The Kaminari family was big on traditions. An extra candle on a birthday cake for luck; shrine visits every New Year; funny party hats for special occasions. But Denki’s favourite was ice skating 4 days before Christmas.
It started as his parent’s tradition. His dad took his mom out to a large pond in the neighbourhood he’d grown up in just 3 weeks into their relationship to teach her how to ice skate. Unbeknownst to Kenji, however, Hina was more than capable having done competitive figure skating in her childhood. But he was so excited, and Hina couldn’t ruin that for him, so she fell. And stumbled. And insisted her hold onto her. And she only told Kenji the truth on their second anniversary.
It was Denki’s favourite story. And, therefore, his favourite tradition. He longed to do the same for his own special person.
In his second year at UA, he got to do just that.
It was the year Hitoshi Shinso officially transferred into the Hero course and class 2-A. The year Denki’s incessant flirting took a turn into blushing cheeks and stammered words. The year he bucked up and confessed for once in his life. And it worked.
Hitoshi was sweet. So, so kind under that hard, uninterested exterior. He was fiercely protective over his foster sister, his new dads, most of their classmates, and Denki. Only a few weeks into their relationship, he had told Denki that he would give his life for him if it came down to it. And Denki believed him one hundred percent. He was like Bakugo that way- protect or die trying.
So, when the third week of December approached them, Denki took Hitoshi by the hand and practically dragged him to the train station a 10-minute walk from campus. Maybe he didn’t have a frozen pond in the middle of nowhere, but he did have two ridiculously expensive passes to one of the largest outdoor skating rinks in Japan.
Hitoshi’s face paled as the rink came into view and he tugged at Denki’s hand where they were clasped together.
“Denki,” He said softly. “Babe, I love you. But I can’t skate.”
Denki bounced on the spot. “That’s the thing though. I’m gonna teach you!”
And how could Hitoshi say no when Denki pulled the puppy dog eyes. The man was whipped. So together they stepped through the ticket gates, stood in the short line to rent skates, and found a bench on the side of the ice to call home.
Their whole afternoon was spent at the rink. Between Hitoshi falling on his ass more times than he could count on his fingers, and Denki pulling him up just as many, they had a really good time.
It was everything Denki hoped it would be. Holding onto Hitoshi’s waist as he bent low over a plastic chair for balance; hand in hand while Hitoshi’s other held white-knuckled to the wall; until he had enough confidence and stability that Denki could skate backwards, pulling him forward with both hands entwined with his own.
It was just like his parent’s stories. And his heart soared with each glide.
He thought at one point that they might kiss, Hitoshi having skated right into his arms and wrapped him in a cozy hug. But it was over before he knew it.
They stayed on the ice for hours until their legs felt like jelly and their stomachs grumbled in harmony.
“I think there’s a waffle place down the street.” Denki said, untying his skates. “Wanna go?”
“Sure. Lead the way.”
So, Denki did. They returned their skates to the rental counter, gathered their things, then they were off.
The rink was surrounded by a German themed Christmas market. Stalls selling strudels, and soups, and bratwurst lined the sides of the street. Littered between them were booths with handmade jewelry and other knick-knacks. A choir decked out in matching ruby red jackets and black skirts and pants sang carols from a stage set up in front of a massive carousel. Twinkling lights hung in draped rows above their heads illuminating the entire street in multicoloured hues.
It was beautiful.
They passed all of it in time and eventually wound up at a small cafe tucked between a fancy restaurant and a closed antique store. It was a completely different vibe than the outside had been. Gone was the red, white, and silver. Instead, the entire cafe was decked out in garish pink and baby blue, mostly in thick stripes, with a black and white checkered floor. An old jukebox sat against the far wall playing what sounded to Denki like old people music. Hitoshi said it was American 50’s themed.
He was so smart.
A young woman, barely older than they were, sat them at a booth near the front. She put on an atrociously bad accent, seemingly trying for something from the south and ending up sounding like an Australian with a head cold. But even that was fun. And Hitoshi seemed to be enjoying himself just as much, so who was Denki to critique.
They ordered a waffle each; Denki’s topped with strawberries and honey mascarpone cream, Hitoshi’s with vanilla ice cream, espresso infused whipped cream, and dark chocolate. They tried a bite of each others and came to the dual consensus that both were the best thing they’ve ever put in their mouths.
Hitoshi snagged the bill before Denki had the chance to pull out his card. “You paid for skating. It’s my turn.”
They walked back to the train station, gloved hand in gloved hand, and a cup of hot chocolate each from one of the market stalls. They rode back mostly in silence, Denki resting his head on Hitoshi’s shoulder. Every now and then he would remark on something that happened that week, or Hitoshi would rave about the waffle he had (they were definitely going back there), until the train pulled into their station, and they got off.
They got back to the dorm with no trouble at all. Their classmates paid them hardly any mind, except for a couple knowing smiles, as they crossed the common room and caught the elevator to the second floor.
They stood in front of Hitoshi’s door for way longer than necessary, longer than they ever had before, just talking. Denki’s mouth ran a mile a minute to make up for his silence on the train, recounting their entire date from start to finish and everything he loved about it and how grateful he was that Hitoshi tried something he wasn’t completely sure about. And he was part way through retelling of his parent’s story and how it became family tradition when Hitoshi leaned down and pressed his lips to Denki’s own.
And wow. Oh wow.
His lips were just as lovely as ever. Better even. Because they still held a chill from the winter air and they fit against Denki’s so perfectly it had his heart racing in his chest. And it ended way too soon.
Denki stood still, his brain playing catch-up to his feelings.
Hitoshi smiled. “Thank you, Denki,” he said, “for including me in your tradition. I know how much you value those sorts of things, so it means a lot that you wanted me there with you. I had a lot of fun.”
“I’ll always want you there, ‘Toshi.” He said breathlessly. “I love you.”
A second peck was pressed to Denki’s flushed cheek and with a flustered smile Hitoshi whispered, “I love you, too. Goodnight, Denks,” and shut the door behind him.
Back in the comfort of his room, snuggled low in his bed, Denki sent a text to his mom that read, You were right. I think I’m gonna marry him.