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“Mama, mama!”
“Slow down, Eijirou!” The woman says with a chuckle.
A black-haired boy runs into his mama’s open arms, snuggling into her neck as she gracefully lifts him. She kisses his hair, smiling against his temple as he giggles, wiggling in her arms. He pulls away from her but stays in her hold, shifting his weight.
“Mama, what’s love?” a young boy asks, carmine eyes so soft and full of adoration. He’s five years old, and kindergarten is full of curious questions. His mama smiles, nuzzling her nose against his before putting him down on the ground. She bends down to his level, ruffling the top of his head and laughing at his disgruntled expression.
“It’s when you really care about them, baby. Like how I tell you I love you.” Wide eyes look up with wonder, and a tiny mouth makes an “o” in awe.
“But the teacher said that you can love other people, not just mama or mommy! I don’t wanna love anyone but you and mommy!” Eijirou’s mama doesn’t try to stifle his burning questions. Instead, she leans into them, knowing that he’ll carry her answers with him for as long as he wants to.
“Yes, honey. But there are different types of love. When you love other people, not like how you love me or mommy, you feel different. It’s like you’re speaking a language that only the two of you understand. It gives you butterflies in your tummy, and it makes you happy when they’re happy.” Kirishima blushes at the idea of butterflies running around in his stomach. “So, when you find your person,” she pokes the tip of his nose with her fingertip, “that’s when you hold them real close, dust off your heart, shine it, and make it look real pretty when you offer it to them. Because if they’re careful and they love you as much as you love them, then you’ll accept it with open arms.”
Eijirou goes quiet, taking in his mama’s words. He’s surrounded by love every day, watching as his mama and mommy dance around each other in the kitchen, smiling and laughing as they talk about their days. When they mention the other to Eijirou, their eyes crinkle up in a manner that shows just how excited they are when they think about their loved one, and Eijirou thinks their stomach might be filled with butterflies too.
“Now little man, ready to go home? We have to save mommy from the dishes,” Eijirou’s mama says, ticking Eijirou’s stomach as he giggles.
“Not the dishes!” Eijirou giggles, groaning in fake pain, but he follows his mama’s footsteps, falling into step and grabbing her fingers with his tiny hand.
The day Eijirou’s mama taught him about love was the day his whole world changed. From then on, he carried the expectation that somewhere in the universe, someone was waiting for his heart, his love. And in return, he should lay feather-light kisses in the morning and whisper sweet words that make them weak in the knees. To Eijirou, bright-eyed and full of hope, love was meant to be shown and told, and he was waiting for someone just as eager as he was.
When Kirishima meets Bakugou, every image of his first love is immediately smashed into pieces.
He remembers the blond from the entrance exam, and something sparks in his brain to greet the teen. It’s just after class, and the hallways are flooding with students as they try to beat the bell. Kirishima reaches his hand out and taps Bakugou’s tense shoulder, giving a friendly wave as he turns around.
“Hey, Bakugou! I was thinking, maybe we could—”
“No.” Kirishima receives a cold glare over the shoulder. He isn’t one to back down from a challenge, so he lets the interaction slide and tries to tap Bakugou’s shoulder again, hoping for a chance to plead his case.
“But I—”
“Not interested.”
“Bu—”
“Fuck off,” Bakugou growls, teeth grinding.
Kirishima sighs, adjusting his bag on his shoulder with a hurt look on his face before walking outside of the classroom. He takes a final look behind him, back at the blond with clenched fists and a frustrated tick in his eyebrow before he gets swept into the crowd, trying to forget that the whole interaction happened in the first place.
“Have you guys talked to that Bakugou guy at all?” Kaminari asks, kicking his feet back.
It’s Friday night, and it’s the first time Kirishima has gotten the chance to relax since school started weeks ago. His body is bruised and his ego is unwell, but his energy has never been higher. After a long talk with his moms, he’s in Sero’s room, playing video games and eating chips while Kaminari and Ashido gossip in the background.
“Nah, he kind of seems like a drag,” Sero says, crunching another chip in his mouth.
Kirishima scoffs, continuing to button-mash his controller.
“I don’t know man, he just seems a little standoffish, that’s all!” He tries to come off as casual, tries not to bring up the nagging, lingering bug in the back of his mind that drags him to the blond no matter how many bad interactions he has. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way that his heart is unconsciously telling him something.
I need this person in my life. I need to talk to him. I need to hang out with him. I need to be with —
“What? Dude, no way! He’s as mean as mean gets!” Kaminari says, gesturing to Ashido to bring her right hand over so he can attempt to paint her nails a slime green. “He’s on a different planet compared to us.”
“I don’t know, Kiri might be on to something here. Bakugou might be a Bakubabe,” Mina says, a giggle trickling out of her mouth. The other three teens groan, and the topic is put to rest.
And while Kirishima doesn’t get anyone to see his side, not yet at least, he knows where their starting point is. And he knows that when it comes to learning the language of Bakugou Katsuki,
He is completely and utterly on his own.
Weeks tumble into months, and Kirishima doesn’t make much progress in his journey. Every interaction is plagued with sharp words and piercing eyes. The blond is brash, loud, and so prickly that Kirishima doesn’t know where to start, hands and heart scarred by repeated attempts. He tries to express his admiration through compliments and smiles, only to be pushed away by deep frowns and growls. Kirishima unknowingly grates every nerve in Bakugou’s body, and Bakugou is an unshakable force to be reckoned with when upset.
Despite all the friction though, Kirishima’s breath still seizes, and his heart still causes earthquakes in his chest at the thought of the blond. Bakugou is strong, forward, and stands up for what he believes in; the true definition of manliness. Even though he hears the most aggressive of words slip from Bakugou’s mouth, Kirishima can’t help but yearn for his attention. He wants his feisty classmate to see him, to train those eyes on him.
He wants to speak his language.
“Bakugou, calm down,” Aizawa’s voice drones into the Ground Beta.
“I am calm!”
“H-hey, Bakugou I think he means—” Kirishima tries to bring the guy down a few notches. They’re battling against Gang Orca, and while Bakugou managed to get a few hits in, he’s being beaten up left and right. Kirishima has tried taking a few hits on his own, but the Orca is fast, and he barely has a chance to react half the time.
“Shut up, what the hell do you know?” Bakugou turns around to yell at Kirishima, unknowingly leaving himself open for an attack. Kirishima’s body moves, and he pushes Bakugou out of the way before taking the full brunt of the blow, flying into a wall.
His head spins and his vision swirls as his body crushes the cement into dust. He can feel the blood trickle down his back, and his view is tinted red as he tries to blink his eyes open once he fully gains consciousness.
When the dust finally clears, Kirishima looks up to a pissed blond scowling, hands on his hips with a concerned Gang Orca in the background.
“What the hell were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed!”
Kirishima sputters at the anger. He does his job and he gets punished for it?
“You were going to get hurt! I have the damn hardening quirk. I can take the blow, you can’t!” Kirishima yells, exasperated. Bakugou’s eyes widen before they narrow, and Kirishima shivers at the intensity. Katsuki is careful to spit the blood from his mouth behind him, avoiding Kirishima’s body completely. Careful and considerate, even when pissed.
“I don’t need your damn help. I can watch my own back.” He walks away, leaving Kirishima alone to dust himself off as Aizawa announces that his group has failed.
The bell rings, signaling that the fight is over. For some reason though, Kirishima has an inkling that something is just beginning.
Kirishima quickly catches on to the fact that Bakugou, while great on the offensive side with words and fists, is not exactly the most graceful with his defense. Kirishima watches from the sidelines as Bakugou fails every block and counter test, and Kirishima clenches his fists, gnawing at his lip as Bakugou struggles to get back up. Kirishima doesn’t make the conscious decision to take action, but something pulls in his heart. The laughter from his classmates as they watch Bakugou fail time after time settles in his stomach, and he can’t afford to watch it happen anymore. It reminds him of the little black-haired boy that ached for someone to come help him not too long ago.
Someone to save him.
One day, they’re on the same team, another defense lesson that Bakugou is stumbling through as usual. As Kirishima watches a blow hurtling toward the blond, his feet move before his mind knows where he’s going. It’s instantaneous, and his body hardens, ricocheting the blow off his chest with a snarl, covering Bakugou’s startled and shocked face. The shot roars throughout the gym, causing the room to pause, and everyone holds their breath, turning to look at the pair.
Kirishima turns around, expecting another incident like Ground Beta. He expects arrogance and pride ripped away from him the second he turns around. Instead, he’s met with a friendly fist bump to his shoulder, and a wicked smile that steals his breath away.
The redhead gasps. This has to be the first time he’s ever seen Bakugou smile. This has to be the first time the class has witnessed it as well. Kirishima’s jaw drops, and he has to stop the blood flow that’s flooding his cheeks, choosing to harden his arms instead.
Bakugou is absolutely breathtaking.
“Nice feet, red. You’re like some sort of unbreakable wall or something.” Bakugou barks out a laugh so hearty it warms Kirishima’s insides, and before he knows it, the feisty blond is hurdling through the air, throwing his explosions behind him and continuing the battle.
He doesn’t exactly know why Bakugou accepted his help this time compared to last time. It could be the weeks of judgment from classmates and this was the first time something different happened, or it could be that Bakugou is just feeling nice today. Either way, it’s worth it to see the beautiful smile of victory that sits on his face as he flies through the air.
Kirishima becomes Bakugou’s Unbreakable Wall and gains the title of someone he can trust and depend on in battle. While it isn’t much to the average person, to Kirishima, it opens up a whole new world. He gets to see the blond in his most enthusiastic moments of doing what he loves; fire ablaze in his eyes and chest puffed out with pride. Kirishima guards Bakugou’s back, becomes the first to hear the latest brilliant strategy, and one of the only to see that victorious smile.
Their chemistry translates off the battlefield as well.
He gains the nickname “Shitty Hair” with a smile. They walk to class together, decide to room next door to one another once the dorm system is in place, and when Bakugou is in a giving mood, he leaves Kirishima the extras from his meals; something no one else has worked up to yet. Of course, hanging out with Kirishima means hanging out with the rest of his friends, and the infamous Baku Squad is born. Bakugou is sweet on them, and despite the biting words that he throws their way, he still goes to every single one of their homework hangouts, without fail. Kirishima sees the way he’s careful when Kaminari fries his brain, or when Hanta exhausts his arms, or when Mina needs a good cry, or even when he needs a good spar.
He's hard on the exterior, sure. But deep down, there’s a caramel core of softness that lies with Bakugou.
Kirishima’s heart is sated. It doesn’t need the mushy love that his mama had talked to him about all other years ago. Not when he has best friends like Bakugou by his side. His heart no longer yearns to pull the blond closer as much—not yet—, and that’s fine.
The redhead still can’t understand a word Bakugou was saying, but he can read between the lines. ‘I enjoy your presence; I want you to eat well.’
And for Kirishima, that is enough for him.
When they grow older, wise beyond their years after Shigaraki and All for One, they grow that much closer. Kirishima becomes Bakugou’s main sparring partner during class, knowing he’s the only one, outside of Midoriya, who can handle him at 100%. It’s almost freeing, knowing he can pat Bakugou on the back and call him ‘dude’ without getting blasted in the face. Kirishima’s been friends with Bakugou Katsuki for over a year, and can barely begin to piece together syllables in Bakugou’s language. Progress is progress though, and it’s progress that Kirishima proudly wears on his chest.
“Oi, shitty hair.”
Kirishima lifts his head and spots Bakugou poking his head into his open dorm room. They decided against rooming together to avoid future fights. Kirishima thinks it’s silly, they’ll practically live together anyways, whether it’s in his room or the blond’s.
The redhead runs a hand through his hair, it’s starting to get long now, and he ties it up in a short bun. He admires Bakugou’s freckles that run down his cheek, layering against the lightened scar that follows down his collarbone. Summer’s been good to him this year.
“Study session later?” Bakugou asks. Kirishima lights up, nodding his head.
“Yeah, man! I’ll grab the crew when I come down!” It’s quiet for a moment, and Kirishima cocks his head to the side, waiting for Bakugou’s response. His friend’s face grows pink and he shuffles his feet, biting his lip as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“How about we just…keep it between us, yeah?”
Kirishima looks Bakugou up and down, confusion running along his face. He suddenly feels exposed; shy, heart flipping at the possibility of Bakugou wanting to spend time with him. Alone.
The idea of them hanging out by themselves is not odd, not at all. It just normally doesn’t come with a blushing, stuttering Bakugou asking him to do so. It usually requires Kirishima to tag along on Bakugou’s plans, or Bakugou to begrudgingly join his premade structure for the day.
Kirishima gives the blond a quiet nod. “Sure man, I’ll meet you in your room!” he says, scratching the back of his head before he turns back to his homework, lips stretching into a persistent smile. Kirishima basks in excitement once the coast is clear, hearing the quiet sound of his door locking into place. He does a little dance in his seat before twirling in his chair.
Kirishima can almost hear the start of syllables dancing in his mind. Bakugou’s sounds are beginning to make sense and Kirishima can’t help but feel alive because, for the first time in over a year, he feels as though he’s accomplished some sort of breakthrough with Bakugou.
The teen’s heart jumps in his chest, and a small, excited inhale comes from deep within his throat as he covers his mouth with his hands and he leans against his desk, tapping his feet. Even if it isn’t what he thinks it means, even if it isn’t what he hopes it means, it might just be the beginning, and that could mean something down the line, and—
Wait.
When did his feelings morph into something bigger than admiration? When did his heart start doing pitter-patters at the thought that Bakugou might want something more, something deeper? Kirishima groans, leaning back in his chair, covering his now-red face with his hands, this time, out of embarrassment.
Kirishima knows that the first sign of- well, whatever this is- will push his friend away. Kirishima’s heart is fragile and walking around with it on his sleeve will do him no good. While Bakugou is considerate, he’s not always gentle, and the wrong set of words could cost them their whole friendship.
At sixteen years old, Kirishima knows that the only thing to do in this situation is to bury it. Bury every ounce, every inkling of his feelings for Bakugou. He’ll use thick coats of soil, layers upon layers cascading, guarding. His heart will be so deeply brigaded, maybe he won’t even be able to find it himself.
Big smiles are his trademark, and who’s to say they can’t be used as a shield? As a weapon toward himself? The last year has been a miracle, something even he thought wasn’t possible. He’s been so patient before, waiting for knocking of shoulders to become friendly and snarls to become smirks. Why ruin it with something as selfish as love? Something as egotistical as thinking that someone as brilliant and confident as Bakugou Katsuki would be interested in someone like him?
The best thing, the right thing, is to let it go.
The dorm is in shambles as class 2-A prepares for Spring break. The self-proclaimed Baku Squad is being split up for a week in between a girls’ trip, a long week at the beach for “dumb and dumber”, an even longer-feeling trip home for a certain grumpy blond, and a “manly” dorm room. After his recent work-study with Fat Gum, Kirishima wants to train as much as possible, and where else to do it than his well-equipped school?
Kirishima has spent the last 45 minutes giving hugs and waving goodbye to his friends as they set off on their adventures. He needs to remember to call his moms tonight and remind them he’s not coming home before they start to text him hysterical messages when he misses the last train.
After making sure everyone has left, he starts to head inside when he hears a screech in the distance.
“Katsuki! Get your ass over here!”
“I’m comin’ old hag!”
Kirishima whips his head around to see Bakugou picking up his bag with a scowl. Kirishima though Bakugou left already though? The blond begins to head over to his taller, more feminine look-alike when he turns around, locking eyes with Kirishima.
He adjusts his bag on his shoulder, looking so awkward Kirishima swears he’s switched places with Deku.
“I’ll…see you around, Kiri—”
“Katsuki!” The fierce woman takes quick strides toward the pair, fury ingrained into her face and Kirishima prays to never be on the receiving end of it. She’s wearing relaxed clothing that screams ‘mom’ but when she gets close to the teens, Kirishima swears the woman could pass for Bakugou’s older sister. “What the hell are you- oh, hi! You must be one of Katsuki’s friends! I’m Mitsuki. Thank you so much for looking after my knucklehead of a son.”
Kirishima’s eyes widen, and he’s almost lost for words at how quickly her tone changes when she address him. “N-no problem Mrs. Bakugou!”
Bakugou looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, but luckily, Mrs. Bakugou saves the day.
“Hey! You’re not staying at the dorms all week, are you? You should come over for dinner! I’m sure Katsuki would love to have a friend visit.”
“Oi, stay out of—”
“S-sure! I’d love to! Let me just run up to change clothes and I’ll be ready!”
Kirishima runs the whole way to his dorm room, smile burning under his skin. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to let it go by the time he makes his way to the car.
The dinner is hilarious, watching Bakugou and Mitsuki go toe to toe with each other, while Masaru referees from the background. Their dynamic is explosive, and Kirishima now understands why Bakugou acts the way he does with his classmates. Level 10 volume is the norm, and everyone needs to be on their guard to avoid getting a ‘love tap’ across their head.
But even with the chaos, Kirishima can read between the lines. The pats on Bakugou’s head from his parents, the quiet grumbles of him trying to tone down his snarky remarks, and the soft lines on his face when he realizes his parents made his favorite dessert. Whether they wanted him to or not, Kirishima felt the love that lives in their banter, their actions, and their glances. He realizes that a community shares this unknown language, and he may have picked up a few words to add to his dictionary.
After a long night of good food and laughter, Kirishima is exhausted. He doesn’t know how Masaru used to do it every night for sixteen years. Bakugou’s parents insist that he stays the night, offering to drive him back to the dorms in the morning to start his training. Kirishima, a lovesick puppy, says yes, happy to spend any extra time he can with Bakugou, even under his parents’ gaze.
In his sleepy haze, he’s arguing with Bakugou about which toothbrush package he should open. It’s then that Kirishima lets it slip.
“Katsuki, I’m telling you, man, purple is manlier!” He chuckles and opens the package, drizzling the toothpaste onto the bristles. He starts brushing, humming a song in his head until he realizes that the bathroom is suddenly too quiet. His joke is met with silence. He turns around to see Bakugou’s eyes blown wide with surprise. Kirishima scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, only for his own eyes to widen as he quickly realizes his mistake.
It might have been hearing it over and over again throughout the night from Bakugou’s parents. It could have been the name that’s been settling on his tongue for months now, sizzling on the tip and waiting to be said. One thing is for sure: Kirishima absolutely did not mean to call Bakugou ‘Katsuki’ tonight, the night of all nights when he doesn’t have an escape route.
“S-sorry man,” Kirishima stumbles over his words, nerves settling in. They’re not close enough yet, Midoriya doesn’t even call him that— “I meant to say—"
“S’fine, shitty hair. Katsuki’s fine.” The clock in the bathroom is three times louder than normal and he swears Bakugou can hear his heart trying to crawl out of his chest as he tries to process the words. Kirishima’s brain comes back online, and he gets his reading glasses, trying to read the fine print beneath the words Katsuki has just said. He thinks that if he tinkers with it long enough, he’ll get the answer that he’s been searching for. We’re close enough, now.
“Oh, cool!” He says far too loud for normal conversation. It breaks up the awkward pause, and Katsuki barks a laugh as he blushes. “Then Eijirou is fine with me too. You know, if you want.” Kirishima tries to play it off as casually as possible, but there are so few friends in his life that he’s taken this step with. Formal, non-formal, all of this stuff is important. But this is more than that. This is Bakugou Katsuki.
And to Kirishima, that is everything.
“…cool.”
And so, Eijirou and Katsuki were born.
Spring break turns into Eijirou at Katsuki’s house, sparing and training together. It’s a good thing the Bakugou’s backyard is equipped for explosions because they tear through most of the land. Their bodies become black and blue, bruises lining up their arms and legs as their muscles twitch from overstimulation. Their vocal cords are raw, as shouting across a forest takes up so much energy. By the end of the week, they’re inseparable, and Eijirou’s beautiful, stubborn, broken, warm heart becomes that much more fragile as he takes a shovel and tries to bury it farther into the ground.
About halfway through the year, class 3-A scrambles to secure plans for the next stage in their lives. While it’s something Aizawa drilled into their heads from the beginning of their first year, time passes too quickly and Eijirou is fumbling for answers. He sits down with Fat Gum and manages to secure a sidekick position working under Amajiki, which he’s thankful for. He receives a warm pat on the back and an official welcome to the team, and he’s grateful for the opportunity to meet Fat Gum so young in his career. Unfortunately, the pay isn’t the greatest as a new graduate, leaving Eijirou to panic about who he can tolerate as a roommate.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves all his classmates dearly, and would gladly put himself between them and a bullet, hardened of course. But living in the dorms with them for nearly two years means he’s seen them at their best, and their worst. And honestly, their worst’s worst.
While anyone from the Baku Squad would be a given, they’re all spoken for. Well, all but one. And Eijirou doesn’t have the heart to see if the remaining one would even say yes to him. It’s too much risk. Too much potential heartache. Too much on the line.
Eijirou sits in the grass outside the dorm entrance basking in the sun and trying to forget about his future financial problems. He’s done with his homework and for once, doesn’t have an assignment with his internship. He’s taking the last few moments he has at UA to be a student. Be a kid. His mama keeps telling him to do that on the phone. He should call her.
Katsuki launches out of the door in a huff and spots Eijirou, taking a seat next to him as he brushes his hair out of his face. Eijirou looks up, pulling his hair back into a ponytail. It’s long enough for that now, and the wind flows against his face as his hair flies with it. Eijirou waits patiently, knowing that Katsuki will eventually say what’s bothering him.
“Damn nerd,” Katsuki grumbles, throwing his bag down by his side. “I don’t need his shitty help with my gear. You would think he would catch a hint by now.”
“You know how he is.” Eijirou grins at Katsuki, ever aware of Katsuki’s lack of patience with Izuku and his enthusiasm for Katsuki’s costume. “He has notebooks on how to improve anything.”
“Hah? I don’t need his damn help. We’re already going to be a hero duo, that’s help enough.”
Eijirou sits up, giving Katsuki his full attention. He knows it’s a decision Katsuki’s been pondering for a long time. They’ve talked about it a couple of times, mostly late at night when Eijirou can’t sleep and Katsuki’s scars ache in that way that makes everything annoying. Eijirou knows only bits and pieces of Katsuki’s true thoughts about Izuku, but he does know that there was quite a bit of fear that played into the decision.
“You decided?! That’s awesome, Kats! It’s only up from here. Sidekicks, heroes, then we’re owning agencies.” Eijirou picks at blades of grace with a content smile on his face.
Katsuki looks up at the light blue sky, arms holding him up from behind. There’s a hint of a smile on his face, something that holds nostalgia and melancholy.
“Yeah, well, who else is going to make sure he doesn’t die? Self-sacrificing little shit. And…you know, he pushes me.” The faint blush on his nose is all Eijirou needs to know how much Katsuki is excluding from the conversation. The last year has been nothing but growth for both Izuku and Katsuki, especially the latter. He started seeing Hound Dog once a week, and suddenly, feelings weren’t as hard to express for him. Complicated emotions had words to go with them, and that in itself is liberating for Katsuki.
While Eijirou knows they aren’t always perfectly in sync, not as much as Katsuki and Izuku, Eijirou’s studying of Bakugou is paying off, and the words Bakugou’s looking for feel more familiar on his tongue every day. Dialects are aligning and hidden meanings are becoming clearer. He’s happy about it, truly. Even being a few paces behind means he has a chance to catch up one day.
…right?
“Does that mean you’re moving in with Midoriya then? Makes sense if you’re going to be at the same agency.”
“Hell no, I can barely stand his face during class, he can’t suck up my energy at home too…wherever home will be.”
And yeah, Eijirou can understand that. Izuku does have enough energy for the entire class of 3-A. And 2-A. And probably the majority of 1-A.
“So what, you’re going to live on your own then? How are you going to afford all that rent? You know sidekicks don’t get paid that much!” Worry laces into Eijirou’s voice, and Katsuki closes his eyes, leaning into the breeze.
“Nah, I don’t know where I’m leaving yet.”
Well, this isn’t like meticulous, always-prepared, Bakugou Katsuki.
“You haven’t picked a place to live yet?”
“Nope. The agency will pay me fine, but I’m not paying an arm and a leg to live in the center of downtown. I can get my steps in if I live further away, anyways.”
“Good thinking, man! I haven’t decided either. I need to find a roommate, but I don’t want a rando, especially if they’re a civilian. They deserve someone whose alarm doesn’t go off at 3 am.” Katsuki squints his eyes and gives him a look, almost as if he’s looking at him from far away. It makes Eijirou’s stomach flip, and he’s not sure what to say. He almost wills himself to ask the question he’s been trying to stop himself from saying, but he’s able to divert his brain just enough for the time being.
“W-well,” Eijirou stutters. “If you know of anyone who might need a room—”
“Move in with me.”
The wind whips across Eijirou’s face as he turns to look at Katsuki in shock. Petals float through the sky as the air turns into a drifting, soft breeze. It curls around Katsuki’s face, and the sun illuminates each individual scar and freckle. Eijirou’s ashamed about how much time he’s spent looking at that face. Those beautiful ruby eyes soften as Eijirou meets them, and it hits the redhead so quickly, he doesn’t know how to react.
It isn’t a question, it’s a demand. It’s so Katsuki, and Eijirou can’t help but let out the most startled laugh because of course this is how he asks.
“W-what?”
Katsuki sighs, looking at Eijirou directly. “It’s not that hard, Ei, let’s be roommates. We can find somewhere between Fat Gum’s and Miruko’s, and we can save money. Plus, you’re the only person I can tolerate on the day-to-day in a 20-kilometer radius.”
Eijirou lets out another startled chuckle, voice high as he tries to steady his breath. Katsuki’s eyes shift into something warmer, more welcoming when he does, and it’s almost enough to give Eijirou a spark of hope, no longer wanting to jam his heart into the ground.
Instead, he feels the need to go to the grave with a shovel and help his heart dig itself out, wash it off and pat it dry. The love that his mama said is so sacred is still alive, and each time he makes Katsuki laugh, or gets a knock on the door in the middle of the night asking to take a walk, it almost makes him want to reach for his everything and give it to Katsuki on a silver platter.
Almost.
“Um, I mean, same here, dude! Plus, we can work out together and I can finally align my meal plan with your famous cooking.” Katsuki’s face falls slightly, and it gives Eijirou a second glance, unsure of what it could mean. He’s searching for answers, but the look disappears so quickly, Eijirou barely has time to blink before he processes it.
Katsuki lets out a snort. “Sure thing Ei, let’s shop around for some places tonight.”
And with that, Katsuki and Eijirou become roommates.
Boxes of belongings have been sorted through, rooms have been arranged, and work schedules have been established. It’s been a month since Katsuki and Eijirou moved in together and Eijirou couldn’t be happier. He gets to see his best friend every day, whether it’s passing by each other during their patrol shifts or sitting down together for a rarely shared meal.
Of course, there are hiccups. Living with someone for the first time can cause some friction. Katsuki is a firecracker, and sometimes Eijirou tends to blow on the embers, causing an eruption of chaos that can lead to stifled apologies late at night as the sun rises from the grave. Other times though, there’s a calm that settles between them. They’ve always been a team, and that will never change. A well-oiled machine that has weekly chores done in an hour and they’re laughing as they wrestle through the house, never once pausing to check in.
They know when they’ve gone too far.
Overall, they work well together, and living together hasn’t changed that.
“Hey Ei, you off tomorrow?” Eijirou looks up from his cereal and swallows, looking up at a disheveled Katsuki, bedhead sticking out in every direction as he yawns, fresh from his night shift. Cute.
“Yeah, why? What’s going on?”
“Come on a hike with me.”
Eijirou is surprised that Katsuki even offered the idea. He knows his friend loves his solo hikes, opting to get away from the city to regroup after a stressful week. It’s one of the few things that Katsuki can call his, and Eijirou is hesitant to take that away from him. But he doesn’t turn down an offer to be with his favorite person. So, at 5:30 am the next day, Eijirou showers, grabs his workout shirt and shorts, his favorite hiking boots, and groggily climbs into Katsuki’s SUV as they drive into the darkness.
The ride is slow but comforting, and Katsuki hums to himself, eyes focusing on the road. Eijirou can barely see the man outside of the occasional gleam from the passing car’s headlights, but it’s enough to see how handsome Katsuki has become. His face is rugged and angled now, matured beyond his years, but his eyes carry this sort of softness now that Eijirou believes was there from the start. He wears it out more often, now.
The first part of the hike is spent in comfortable silence. The men enjoy each other’s company, and words are no longer needed to express that. Katsuki looks calm, almost at peace, and Eijirou is happy to witness him in his element, reminiscent of their first year of UA when slow, easy moments were hard to come by between them. He stops at a nearby berry bush to take a quick water break and grab his rain jacket to take cover from the soft drizzle of rain. Katsuki continues to breeze ahead, knowing Eijirou will catch up when he’s ready. Eijirou takes cover behind some bushes, bending down to examine the fruit sprinkled across the greenery.
“Hey, Kat, what’s this? Think I can pick a few?” Eijirou picks the berry with easy fingers, ready to plop them into his mouth. Katsuki turns around, cocky smirk painted across his face and a snarky remark ready to whip across his tongue. At least, until he sees the berries Eijirou’s holding. His eyes widen, and a gasp rocks his body. Eijirou barely has time to react, as Katsuki’s body flings into action, knocking the blue fruit out of his hand. He’s only seen the blond move faster than that a few times in his life, and they weren’t for good reasons.
“Kats, what are you—?”
“Don’t eat those! They’re poisonous, Eijirou.” Katsuki’s pupils are wild, irises covered by black ink, and panic ever-present in his tense stance.
Eijirou backs off immediately, trying to cut the tension.
“N-no problem, man. I’ll stick to my protein bars in my bag,” Eijirou jokes as he points behind himself to his bag. He’s shaken by the pure terror in Katsuki’s voice, and he steps back to give his friend some breathing room. Anxiety attacks are no joke. He knows Katsuki struggles with his own set of trauma and triggers, and he’s trying to tip-toe around them, avoiding every grenade in sight.
“Ei, you can’t…I’m so glad you didn’t eat those. If something happened to you, I don’t…” He’s lost in thought and looks…scared. Eijirou looks at him, squinting his eyes and taking him in like it’s the first time they’ve met. His breath stutters and his eyes widen as a puzzle piece locks into place.
The rain pitter-patters against the stones and the grass, like the way his brain does in his head.
Katsuki cares for him. More than just a friend, like Mina. Different than a brother, like Hanta and Denki. The thought of Eijirou being hurt scared him to the point of anguish, and it was like Eijirou was looking at a reflection of himself.
Over the last 3 years, they’ve grown closer with every dumb fight, every enemy, and every trial they’ve put each other through. Katsuki is full of thorns, and sure, Eijirou had to fight his way to the bottom of the bud, but he sees now that they aren’t placed out of hatred, but out of fear. He chooses his enemies wisely, but his friends are handpicked with such precision that only a few are so lucky to pass. Eijirou happened to stumble over the finish line and year after year, he’s been trying to understand how to read between the lines of shoves and glares. His biggest mistake though, was studying from the perspective of a friend.
His heart has been stomped on, not by his beautiful blond friend, but by himself. Looking back, he sees the stolen glances and evening talks. He never allowed himself to believe that they could mean more, that Katsuki could look at him with such vulnerable eyes.
Eijirou gets it now, though. When Katsuki loves, he loves with everything he has. He becomes frozen, frightened to the point of inaction. If not to protect others, to protect himself. It isn’t as though Eijirou was unworthy of Katsuki’s love, but rather, maybe Katsuki thought he wasn’t meant to be with Eijirou.
Katsuki pushes people away because it saves him the pain of scaring them away. Loneliness is a human fear, and Katsuki is just as skittish as the next. Eijirou is thankful that he’s been as persistent as he has. Because when people refuse to leave, Katsuki holds them so close to his chest, sacred pieces of his soul.
Katsuki fights like he loves and loves like he fights. It’s aggressive and powerful. Infatuating and captivating. Enveloping and overwhelming. But it’s so damn beautiful that Eijirou can’t afford to take his eyes off of him. Not now. Not ever.
Eijirou understands. They’re finally, finally, speaking the same language.
“Kat.”
Katsuki’s head snaps up to look at Eijirou, eyes wet with unshed tears. His hair is drenched, covering his face, and yet, he’s never looked more beautiful. Eijirou places a hand on his shoulder, before eventually bringing Katsuki in fully and engulfing him in a warm hug. He closes the distance between his mouth and Katsuki’s ear, and he whispers.
“Listen, after this, do you want to get breakfast? I know you don’t really like talking during these hikes, hearing nature, and all that. I know how important it is to you, and I don’t want to disrupt that. But I think it’d be good to sit and talk about…you. And me. And maybe us.” His breath tickles the back of Katsuki’s neck and sends goosebumps down his spine. Eijirou feels arms wrap around him, squeezing the bottom of his spine, and Katsuki’s wet cheeks lift with a small smile.
“Yeah, that sounds good, Ei.”
They pull away slowly before Katsuki continues his trek on the trail. Eijirou rushes to grab his bag from behind the bushes, the whole thing that started this mess. As he turns around, he sees Katsuki’s back, casting an eclipse from the rising sun, and Eijirou can’t help himself.
“I can’t wait to tell you everything, Katsuki,” he whispers to himself, before running to catch up with his favorite person.
While Eijirou wants to give his whole heart to Katsuki right here, right now, he knows he needs to be patient. The man scares easily, and luckily, Eijirou has years of waiting under his belt. But he does pull out the shovel and prepare to dig his heart up from its deep sleep, ready to present it to its rightful owner. And maybe, he can receive one right back. He can plant it, sprinkle it with love and watch it bloom over time. The love he gives and receives may not be loud, sparkly, or even displayed often. But it’s graceful, slow, and precious, and that’s all he could ever want.
He can’t wait to tell his mama.