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It doesn’t take Katsuki long to find it. The most basic, cliche New York souvenir possible: a plain white t-shirt that says I ❤️ NY in bold, black letters.
Yeah. Deku’s gonna love this.
A medium would fit alright, but Izuku’d be swimming in a large, and Katsuki kind of likes it when he wanders around in loose fitting shirts with short shorts underneath.
And why the fuck not? Why shouldn’t the person giving the gift get a little something out of it?
Before he leaves the dinky little shop, he buys a snow globe for Shouto with the New York skyline. It’s a long-running joke—snow globes for an Icyhot bastard—and not even a particularly good one, but Katsuki’s started to appreciate tradition in his old age.
(He’ll be twenty-six in April.)
Shouto’s got about a dozen globes in his possession arranged around their apartment. He likes the ones that can be wound up at the bottom and play music. Katsuki will catch him sometimes, picking one up and shaking it, then staring at it for as long as it takes for the flurry of fake snow to stop, for everything to be still again.
Izuku’s got a closet full of plain t-shirts with basic text. One of them just says boyfriend. Occasionally, Shouto will borrow it, and Katsuki will stumble into the kitchen to see them standing in front of the stovetop with Izuku’s arms wrapped around his waist.
Katsuki doesn’t collect anything except clingy bastards with the tendency to overwork themselves.
(One a souvenir from high school, the other from long before that.)
He scrolls through a photo or two he took of those idiots while he waits at the gate, souvenirs tucked away in his carry-on next to an extra pair of socks Shouto stuffed in there at the last minute.
Izuku tied colored ribbons on the carry-on’s handle since he was concerned that Katsuki bought the same Samsonite luggage just about a million other people have got. He wanted it to be recognizable at baggage claim in case there wasn’t enough room on board and Katsuki had to check it in at the gate.
It looks ridiculous.
There’s another tag on it with Katsuki’s name and address in English and Japanese. Both in Shouto’s handwriting, since he thinks his is better, and he pouts if he doesn’t get his way.
They did this shit pretty late the night Katsuki was set to go. Izuku double, then triple-checked Katsuki’s medications, itinerary and boarding passes. Shouto was busier trying to get last minute kisses in, putting his whole weight on top of Katsuki, which helped the anxious feeling Katsuki tends to get (but refuses to admit to) in the hours before traveling.
Shouto also picked up some snacks for the flight out, since he knows Katsuki turns his nose up at plane food.
It was weird, packing up all his stuff alone in his hotel room for the trip back.
Katsuki sends them a text. Because they don’t know what to do with themselves without him, apparently, practically starving for updates.
He’s not surprised when two chat heads—who really should have better things to do—pop up as active right away.