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“Can I sit this one out? Please, Teacher?”
Eijirou’s voice cracked between words. He tugged at the hem of his costume. His previous excitement had died the moment he saw the red onesie, all thoughts that his classmates wanted him to represent the class dying with it.
Did they want to embarrass him?
He should ask Teacher to call his mom.
Yeah, that was it. Eijirou wanted to go home and watch television. He wanted to get out of the frilly red onesie with green felt leaves that itched at his neck. The hem bunched up his thighs and he could barely walk without chafing.
He looked like a fool.
Teacher adjusted her glasses, holding back a chuckle. "But the class chose you to represent them, Eijirou. Plus, your classmates picked the costume because they knew you could pull it off."
Eijirou stared at the ground, his tiny fingers fidgeting with the crimped sleeves. "But why a strawberry?" he muttered under his breath. “People are gonna make fun of me, Teacher.”
“Oh you sweet boy. If anyone makes fun of you, you can tell me. Now go to the back of the line, okay? The parade is starting soon.”
He shuffled, staring at his costume. “We don’t even have strawberries in the Philippines,” Eijirou mumbled, just as a burst of giggling interrupted him. Mina Ashido bounded over, dressed head to toe in yellow.
“Yes, we do! My family picked some when we went to Baguio.”
“That’s only one place,” Eijirou muttered. “Unlike your costume. Bananas are everywhere.” His voice hitched. “I look funny.”
Mina giggled, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, you do! But we all look a little funny. Come on, let’s go—we’re about to start!”
Everyone doing the Nutrition Month parade with them was in some form of absurd outfit, even the sixth graders! A girl was wearing real string beans as a skirt. Another boy was wearing nothing but purple tights and a leotard, matched with purple face paint. Was he supposed to be an eggplant?
Eijirou wasn’t entirely convinced, though. He didn’t feel tough or manly. Dressed as a strawberry and about to dance to a novelty song. He was a growing boy, not a toddler!
But then, Mina pointed across the yard. “Look at that guy,” she snickered. “You think you look funny?”
She was pointing to Katsuki Bakugou of Class A.
His costume had some zany but hard looking spikes all around it. Hard brown tights stretched down his legs, matching a beret with a plush fruit stem sticking out of the top. Katsuki was glaring at everyone but, for some reason, it only made him look cooler.
Eijirou giggled, forgetting his own dilemma. “You’re right. He does look weird, but manly!”
“Is he a jackfruit?” Mina wondered aloud.
“Maybe he’s a porcupine.”
“Porcupines aren’t fruits!” Mina laughed.
Ridiculous or not, Katsuki was undeterred. With his usual scowl, he did not mind anyone else around him and practiced his dance moves all on his own.
He was so cool.
“Ei, this is my place,” Mina said. Letting go of his hand, she joined the girls’ line. “Are you feeling better now?”
Not really, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. He decided to man up and nod before making his way to the back of the boys’ line.
As he stepped to his position, his attention was immediately snagged by Katsuki Bakugou who stood behind him. He kept dancing on the spot, the seriousness of his expression not matching the asinine choreography he was practicing.
Eijirou knew it was rude to stare, and Katsuki wasn’t the friendliest person in their grade, but he was in complete awe. At first, Eijirou watched in silence, but Katsuki caught on pretty fast.
“The hell is your problem, shitty face?”
“Nothing,” Eijirou stammered, though he could not suppress his giggle at the sight of Katsuki’s furious attempts at the choreography.
“You must be excited for the dance, huh?” Eijirou teased.
“The hell I am.” He denied it, but he did not stop dancing either.
It was the worst time to laugh, but Eijirou might just poop his pants if he tried to stop the tickling in his throat.
Okay. It was a really bad idea to laugh. Katsuki could cut him up and toss him into a salad with how sharp he looked at Eijirou.
He should have turned around and minded his own business, but instead, Eijirou asked, “Why’d you stop dancing?”
“Why the hell are you laughing? You making fun of me?”
“Oh! No!” Eijirou exclaimed. “It’s because I can never get that step right, but you’re really good at it.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “That’s because you’ve got two left feet.”
Another burst of laughter escaped Eijirou before he could help it. Katsuki’s gruffness wasn’t intimidating—it was kind of endearing.
“And you always space out during practice,” Katsuki added.
“It’s also hard to move in this costume.” He grinned.
Katsuki only answered him with a glare, clearly done with the conversation. But Eijirou wasn’t. No matter his reputation, there was something comforting about Katsuki Bakugou. He was funny, confident, and he always wanted to be the best in everything.
“I like your costume,” he said. “Are you a jackfruit?”
Katsuki scoffed. “Jackfruits have smaller spikes, idiot. I’m a durian!”
He wasn’t sure if it was safe to laugh or not. Katsuki might punch him if he did, so Eijirou had to school his face and keep his expression neutral.
“It… uhm… suits you,” he said.
“The fuck it does,” Katsuki said. His lips were curled in anger. “It’s a stinky fruit. The idiots in my class thought they could humiliate me, but I’ll show them! All eyes will be on me!”
How Katsuki could cuss with teachers and other students around them was fascinating.
“But isn’t that tasty and expensive? Besides, it looks tough, so it fits your personality.”
“Do you want me to punch you?”
“No!” He waved his hands. “Sorry, I swear I’m not teasing you! I was just saying that it looks good on you. You look very manly. Better than my girly outfit.”
With the faintest tint of pink on his cheeks, Katsuki paused and stepped back.
Eijirou was clearly overstaying his welcome, so he braced to turn around and wait out the start of the parade in silence, but to his surprise, Katsuki quipped, “Your costume suits you too.”
His eyes brightened at that, but Eijirou wasn’t sure if Katsuki was teasing him.
“Because it’s girly?” He pouted.
“No,” Katsuki barked. “Because strawberries are sweet too!”
Eijirou’s face turned as red as his costume.
***
The parade went on without issue.
Well, almost.
Eijirou had tripped during the performance, too distracted by the boy dancing next to him.
Luckily, he was able to recover fast. During the performance, at least.
After that, he could not recover from the interaction earlier. All he could think of was Katsuki Bakugou strutting and dancing in his durian costume. It was ridiculous.
But he couldn’t help it. Katsuki radiated confidence that Eijirou could not stop sneaking glances at him every chance he got. He watched how Katsuki handled the kids who teased him, how his scowl only made him cooler.
He tried to focus on the other activities, but his mind kept drifting back to that spiky costume, to Katsuki’s own blush when he called Eijirou “sweet.”
Eijirou did not know if it was normal to think about other boys this way. His classmates and friends often teased each other, whistling and howling whenever a boy and a girl sat together. His friend Denki was always yapping about girls in their grade.
Eijirou never understood it. He never thought about girls.
But Katsuki? He made Eijirou’s cheeks warm and his chest tingle. Even as he sat in his room, he was still unable to shake the thoughts out of his head.
Before he knew it, he was grabbing a piece of paper from his notebook.
His eyes darted around the room, making sure his mom wasn’t around before he quickly scribbled down: “F.L.A.M.E.S.” and under it, “Katsuki Bakugou” and “Eijirou Kirishima.”
It was silly, but everyone at school did it when they liked someone, and he liked Katsuki.
Eijirou started counting and crossing out the letters in their names, his tongue poking out in concentration.
"One, two, three… Friends, Lovers, Acquaintances, Marriage, Enemies, Sweethearts, Friends, Lovers, Acquaintances…"
Finally, he finished counting: F–Friends!
He was fine with that.
But just to be sure, he counted again. This time, he changed up his counting style, until it landed on A–Acquaintances.
Oh, man. He thought he’d at least get L! Or maybe M!
Eijirou’s face flushed. Why was he doing this, anyway? Boys didn’t marry boys!
He stared at the paper in disbelief before crumpling it and throwing it away. It was just a childish game, but whenever he thought of Katsuki, his heart beat a little faster.
***
“Do you think she’ll like this one?” Denki held a big, purple teddy bear. “She likes purple, yeah?”
“But does she like stuffed animals?” Eijirou asked. “She doesn’t seem like the type to like plushies.”
Denki huffed, smiling. “My guy, all girls like stuffed animals. Every girl dreams of getting that magical blue paper bag. Plus chocolates, roses, the whole shebang, yeah?”
“But did she tell you that?” Hanta asked.
“No,” Denki said. “But isn’t this how guys court girls? This is how you’re courting Mina Ashido, aren’t you? Pick her up from the classroom, carry her bag, give her gifts.”
“It depends on the girl, I think,” Eijirou said.
“Because Mina likes to be treated like a princess,” Hanta added. “I don’t know if I could say the same for Kyouka.”
Denki stared at the stuffed bear in his hands. A lightbulb seemed to flicker over his head and he placed the plushy back on the shelf.
“You’re probably right.” Denki sighed. “She’s into music, though. Maybe I could buy her a guitar pick or something.”
“Awesome,” Eijirou quipped. “She’d like that!”
They walked out of the store with a new mission. Denki was determined to get a yes out of Kyouka Jirou, and if it meant going through every music store at the mall to find something she might like, then so be it.
At the second music store they looked into, Hanta asked, “What about you, Ei? You’re not interested in anyone?”
Eijirou swallowed hard. He was interested in someone, alright. He just didn’t know how to tell them that courtship was out of the question. Eijirou was different from the rest of them. More importantly, the person he liked was different, too.
“Hey, I heard that a junior girl really likes you!” Denki said, eyes sparkling. “She’s cute. I heard she asked for your number!”
“Really? Which one?” Hanta asked. “Maybe we could get something for her.”
“No, thanks,” Eijirou answered. “I don’t think I’ll be pursuing anyone.”
Boys their age only had three things in mind: sports, video games, and girls. Every boy did his best to get a girlfriend, but Eijirou had been nursing a crush on a fiery, ill-tempered guy since the third grade.
Yeah, six years later, Eijirou didn’t think it was a simple crush anymore.
“No one?” Hanta asked again.
“Come on, Ei. You could tell us if you liked someone! We’ve known each other since grade school, there’s no need to be shy,” Denki added.
Eijirou began to open his mouth, but his throat tightened. His heart raced at the thought of how his friends might look at him differently.
“I- no, I really don’t like anyone.”
Thankfully, his friends only shrugged and moved on to another topic. Unfortunately, Eijirou’s own brain wasn’t as kind to him.
As they continued to wander, Eijirou’s thoughts were not with him. Hanta and Denki laughed and chatted about trivial things, but Eijirou kept mum. He nodded and smiled and laughed, but his brain was riding on a wave of noisy static.
He didn’t know why he was beating himself up. They were his closest friends—they wouldn’t judge him, right? Denki was always so open about his crushes and Hanta was easygoing.
The words were clawing at his throat, demanding to be released.
Eijirou stopped in his tracks.
Hanta and Denki turned, noticing the strange look on his face. "You okay, Ei?" Denki asked.
The mall’s A/C was on full blast, but Eijirou’s palms were sweating up a storm.
Ah, to hell with it. He had to let it all out someday.
“I do like someone!” he blurted.
His friends had shit-eating grins, clearly pleased.
“Oh? Do tell,” said Denki. He bounced on his feet.
“The thing is… uhmm.” He paused, staring at the floor. “It’s… uhmm. A guy.” He sighed. “It’s Katsuki Bakugou. I’ve liked him since third grade.”
Eijirou’s world stopped spinning. Crap. Did he mess up? He stood frozen, waiting for the laughter, the jokes—anything.
Hanta blinked. Denki’s jaw dropped, eyes wide.
Denki was the first to recover. "Wait, Katsuki? Like, Katsuki Bakugou?"
“Yup,” Hanta said. “That’s what he said, alright.”
Oh no. This was the part where they laughed at him, wasn’t it? Eijirou flinched before it even came.
Hanta let out a low whistle. "Wow, man. I didn’t see that coming, but hey—good for you."
Eijirou stared at them. All he got were supportive grins. Denki even clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over. “Dude! That’s huge! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I didn’t think you’d… I don’t know, you might think it was weird?”
“Weird? Why would it be weird?” Denki asked.
“I’m a boy. And Katsuki’s a boy.”
Denki huffed. “What? You’re our bro! We’re not gonna judge you for liking anyone—even if that person is, uh, Katsuki.”
Hanta nodded, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a little surprising, but it’s not like we don’t notice you staring at him every chance you get.”
Eijirou blinked.
“You also always find a way to work with him.” Sometimes, Hanta’s smiles were scary.
Denki sauntered over to him and wrapped an arm around Eijirou’s shoulders, squeezing his arm. “We could totally help you court him.”
He scrunched his forehead. “I’ve never seen a guy court another guy. Isn’t that frowned upon?”
Hanta shook his head. “It would be weird if you don’t tell him how you feel if you’ve been crushing on him since the third grade.”
Denki looked up, scratching his chin. Contemplating. “I wonder if he’d like a love letter. I could totally help you with that!” He lightly elbowed Eijirou’s side.
“Katsuki Bakugou?” Hanta asked. “I don’t see him as a chocolates, flowers, and love letter type of guy.” Hanta said.
“Well, if you’ve been crushing on him since Grade Three, I’m sure you have an idea about what he likes, right? Whatever help you need from us, we’ll be there!” Denki smiled from ear to ear.
Eijirou’s heart soared. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to tell them. These guys were awesome!
***
At lunchtime the following Thursday, Eijirou spotted Katsuki in line at the cafeteria. Per usual, he was surrounded by his own friends, though Eijirou knew that Katsuki would deny any claim of friendship if he ever brought it up.
Also per usual, Katsuki looked like someone had stepped on his foot with steel toe boots about fifty times. Eijirou had never seen someone so freaking manly and attractive while frowning.
Denki had said that if anyone had a clue as to what Katsuki liked, it would be Eijirou. Not to be creepy or anything, but that was true.
Eijirou had been watching Katsuki since they were eight years old! He knew Katsuki liked his personal space, hated loud chewing, and always preferred spicy food. He also knew Katsuki was oddly meticulous about where he sat, always choosing the same corner table in the cafeteria, facing the door, with no one sitting directly in front of him. Katsuki was also the type of person who admired courage and bravado in others, even if he acknowledged it in a bizarre way.
(When they were freshmen and he and Katsuki played basketball together, Katsuki had told him, “You’re not completely useless, asshat.” It was the happiest day of Eijirou’s life and the not-compliment was better than any trophy.)
He knew what Katsuki liked. And if he wanted to show his feelings, he was going to do it Katsuki’s way.
“Yo! Katsuki!” Pushing his way through the crowd and apologizing to the people who thought he’d cut in line, Eijirou made his way over to Katsuki.
“What do you want, idiot?”
“Need your help.”
“What makes you think I’d help you?”
“Because I need help from the best.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me.”
“Oh come on, man. I’m gonna fail Algebra 2.”
“Not my problem.” God freaking hell. That smirk. Oh my god, that smirk was going to kill Eijirou.
Imminent death aside, Eijirou knew just how to make him cave.
“I think I’m the worst at math in our year.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” said Katsuki. The small dimple on the corner of his mouth almost made Eijirou forget why he was there.
“Yeah. I think I’m pretty unteachable.”
“It’s because of all the hair gel.” Katsuki snorted. “It must have fried your brain.”
His laugh was perfect.
“Well, I tried.” Eijirou didn’t want to wait longer. He went in for the kill. “Guess I’ll just go to Momo. She never backs down from a challenge.” He turned on his heels, ready to walk away. Or at least, appeared to walk away.
Knowing Katsuki, the inevitable would come in 5, 4, 3…
“Get back here.”
Wow, complete with a hard yank on his collar, too.
“Fine,” Katsuki huffed. “I’ll help you.”
“You would?”
“As long as you stop being an idiot.”
“You’re the best, Katsuki!”
As they talked, they approached the end of the line. Hastily, Eijirou pulled a hundred peso bill from his pocket and handed it to the cashier.
“What are you doing?” Katsuki asked, snarling.
“Paying for your meal!”
“I don’t need you to pay for-”
“It’s my way of saying thanks!”
Before Katsuki could stop him, Eijirou was already busting out of his reach.
“See you later, Katsuki!” he yelled over the crowd, heart fluttering when he saw Katsuki mouth ‘idiot’ with a barely-there, ill-concealed smile on his lips.
***
“For example, if a jeepney charges a flat rate of five fifty, and for every kilometer, two pesos is added. The fare F is a function of the distance-” Katsuki paused. “ Oi! Are you even listening?”
“What?”
Katsuki’s eyebrows were furrowed. His pout was really cute, lips sheen and pink, slightly parted and mid-snarl.
“Oi!” Then Katsuki kicked his shin.
“What? What’s up, man?”
“You’re zoning out.”
“You’re really beautiful.” Because Katsuki was. The sun hit his face at just the right angle and he looked like a really angry angel.
“The hell are you saying, shit face?”
Oh shit. “What?” Eijirou scrubbed his eyes and clapped his cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes you did.” Katsuki’s cheeks were pink. It was unfair how good he looked. “You said that– you said.” He squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders hiking. Then, he shook his head. “Never mind.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s get back to studying.”
Eijirou grinned, promising himself he wouldn’t be too distracted.
He also promised himself to find every chance he could get to be around Katsuki. He slipped little notes into Katsuki’s pocket during recess, writing things like, Good luck in class today! or Don’t forget to eat. He popped by Katsuki’s classroom, hung around during lunch, and learned songs on the guitar with him using a Song Hits magazine he’d bought from a variety store.
After class, they stood outside the campus and ate fishballs and grilled chicken intestine off hawker carts before riding the jeepney to head home. They shared earphones, listening to some Eraserheads songs.
Usually, Eijirou found the cramped seats annoying, but since their established routine, he looked forward to every passenger that rode with them. When they were squeezed together, he relished how their knees knocked against each other.
He didn’t care about the pollution, or if the hair of the lady sitting next to him was slapping him across the face as the wind blew through the open windows. He didn’t mind the odor and the noise, or that Manong thought he was a racecar driver without a care in the world for his passengers’ lives.
Eijirou was happy.
Too bad he had not found the balls to confess yet. He’d done all the things expected of a suitor except actually telling Katsuki his intentions.
It wasn’t until he walked past Katsuki in the hallway in between classes one day that Eijirou knew he should clear things up. Eijirou thought he had been sly in slipping a note –You look really handsome today– into Katsuki’s pocket, but as he was trying to sneak one in, Katsuki caught him by the wrist.
Eijirou beamed at him, trying to play it cool. “Hey, man.”
Whatever calmness Katsuki still had in him was lost. He glared at Eijirou like he killed his cat. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“This.” He held the note between them. “Whatever the fuck you’re doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
Katsuki threw his hand to the side. “Did someone put you up to this?”
“Put me up to what?”
“You’re an idiot,” Katsuki said, “but you’re not stupid. I’d like to believe you aren’t cruel too.”
“What’s going on?”
Gritting his teeth, Katsuki’s cheeks were puffed and flushed. His glassy eyes made Eijirou’s breath hitch, the same way a surprise quiz did.
“Are you making fun of me?” Katsuki asked, voice strained. “You know I’m gay so you’re trying to play with my feelings, aren’t you?”
Being the king of inappropriate reactions, Eijirou grinned. All he heard was “I’m gay,” and after that, his brain shut down.
“You’re gay.” His ears and cheeks were furnaces. “You’re gay,” he repeated, chuckling. Eijirou’s heart was full and bursting.
Katsuki’s? Maybe not so much. “Shut up!”
Other students passing by whispered among themselves. Some laughed. Some boys gathered in a circle around them to jeer, “Fight, fight, fight!” “Ooohh. If you’re brave, pull his ear!” “Punch him!”
Because Katsuki held him by his collar, white-knuckled around the fabric of his polo. Tears dotted the corners of his eyes. “Stop fucking laughing at me,” he said.
Dumbass that he was, Eijirou’s smile widened. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m happy.”
“The hell are you saying?”
“Fight, fight, fight!”
“Katsuki, I’ve been in love with you since…well. Forever!”
The fight, fight, fights tapered to mumbles and snickers.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Katsuki let him go. “Stop bullshitting me. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
Eijirou’s polo was wrinkled. He didn’t pause to smooth it out. “I’m not. Katsuki, I’m serious. I love you.”
“Ooooohhh.”
“Yiiiiii.”
“Kiss, kiss, kiss!”
“Mga bading.”
“Stop fucking saying that.” Katsuki wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m going to court you. I’m serious about you. I thought I'd been courting you for months.”
“You’re an asshole.”
***
People said harana was a dying tradition.
Denki had even laughed at the idea, telling Eijirou that Katsuki would probably throw tomatoes at them if they stood outside his house to sing for him.
“Are you a grandpa?” Denki had asked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m serious,” he had answered. “It may be old school, but there’s no way I’m passing up the chance to woo Katsuki and show him I’m a gentleman. Besides, it’s totally manly to go back to our roots.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone in the city still doing that,” said Hanta, “but we did say we’d support you.”
“Do we have to wear a barong?” Denki asked. “Ei, please don’t make me wear a barong. It’s so itchy!”
“It’s manly,” answered Eijirou, “but no, we’re not wearing barong.”
Their gripes about the outfit coupled with the idea of doing something ancestral aside, it had been easy enough to convince Denki and Hanta to come with him for the harana. Mina even joined them!
With nothing but change in their pockets, a guitar for Denki and a tambourine for Mina, together with Hanta’s moral support and Eijirou’s pure audacity, they went to the Bakugou household on an unassuming Friday night.
They rang the bell, telling the househelp who answered that they were there for harana.
“Harana? But I don’t know you,” she said.
“You’re cute, but we’re not here for you,” said Denki. “Is Katsuki there?”
An amused smile crossed her face. “Sir Katsuki? You’re here to sing to Sir Katsuki?”
“Y-yeah,” answered Eijirou. “Is there a problem?”
She shook her head. “None at all. Stay there, I’ll get them,” she said before going back inside the house.
Less than five minutes later, a red-faced Katsuki peered down from the balcony over their garage, his parents standing behind him.
“What the hell do you shit faces want?” Katsuki yelled. He was shushed by his mother.
Eijirou gestured towards Denki and his guitar. “Harana!” he said. “I told you, I’m serious about you!”
Katsuki glared at his parents when they cooed at Eijirou’s answer.
“Ready, Ei?” Mina asked. Eijirou nodded. Denki counted. Hanta clapped Eijirou’s back.
Clearing his throat first, Eijirou began singing as Denki strummed his guitar and Mina shook the tambourine. Hanta snapped his fingers in time with every beat.
“Lift your head, baby don’t be scaaaared.”
Katsuki covered his face with his hands, ears flushed pink. “Oh my god, please stop that. God, make it stop.”
Katsuki’s parents winced with every wrong chord struck and every note Eijirou failed to hit, faces going between cringing and stifling their laughter.
“Boy, I'll stay through the bad times, even if I have to fetch you everydaaaaaay.”
The neighbors’ dogs started howling.
Katsuki groaned from the balcony. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered, his voice barely audible through his fingers.
“But don't let it bring you down and turn your face into a froooooown, you’ll get–”
Before he could finish the line, Katsuki’s voice broke through the night air. “Shut the hell up already!” He stormed away from the balcony, leaving his amused parents behind, but Eijirou could see the blush on his face even from down below.
Eijirou stopped singing, his voice dropping to a breathy laugh. “I think that means we’re done.”
Hanta patted him on the back. “Good job, man. Whew.” He blew a puff of air. “You really did that,” he said, lips thinning to a sardonic smile.
Denki plucked a random string on his guitar. “That was... something.”
The front door of the Bakugou house flew open, and out came Katsuki, face still red, marching right towards them with his fists clenched. Eijirou braced himself.
“Katsuki—” he started, but before he could say more, Katsuki grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in close, their noses nearly touching.
“You’re an idiot,” Katsuki growled. “A complete, utter idiot.”
Eijirou grinned. “But... did it work?”
For a moment, Katsuki’s eyes darted away, the faintest flicker of uncertainty in them. He let go of Eijirou’s collar, shoving him back.
Denki chuckled from behind, whispering to Mina, “I think he’s into him.”
Katsuki shot them a deadly glare. “Get lost, Dunce Face!”
Hanta clapped his hands. “At least that’s over. Cheers to a successful serenade!”
“Successful?” Katsuki scoffed. “You idiots woke up the whole neighborhood. Next time, I’ll punch you for real.”
Eijirou smiled. “Oh. Do you want there to be a next time?”
“Try that shit again and I’ll tie your intestines together.”
Despite the threats, Katsuki hadn’t pushed him away. That, in itself, was a win.
And this was only the beginning.
Courting Katsuki was both challenging and fun, because Katsuki always met him with stubborn resistance, but something always gave him away.
When Eijirou surprised him with a bouquet of bright red carnations, Katsuki scowled, mumbling, "What am I supposed to do with these?" before snatching the bouquet and storming off.
The next week, Eijirou prepared Katsuki’s favorite spicy pork adobo, handing him the bento with a sheepish grin. Katsuki took a bite, eyes narrowing as he muttered, "The pork’s overcooked," but finished the meal anyway.
He continued leaving handwritten notes on Katsuki’s desk or slipping them in his bag, detailing the reasons why he admired him. Katsuki scoffed at a note one time, face burning as he crumpled it up. (If Eijirou spotted him smoothing it out later, Katsuki didn’t need to know.)
Eijirou was far from giving up.
Even if, you know. It had been months. The year was coming to a close. Hanta and Mina were already together. Kyouka had already rejected Denki. Denki had moved on, courting another girl in their year.
But Eijirou?
He stayed.
After each basketball practice, he and Katsuki hit either of their houses to do homework together, watch afternoon Tagalog-dubbed anime while eating instant pancit canton and stale bread from that morning’s breakfast.
All the things they used to do before Eijirou officially courted Katsuki, they did too: jeepney rides, scarfing down street food and drinking soda from a plastic bag, and playing street basketball while wearing flip flops during weekends.
His courtship blended into their friendship, each gesture wrapped in the familiar, the shared, and the persistent hope that Katsuki would one day feel the same. The streets they walked on were no longer just rough pavements; the jeepney rides were no longer just an afternoon commute to punctuate another tiring school day. It was always something more with Katsuki.
Even the lull had grown into a warm and comfortable silence. Eijirou had learned to love Katsuki more in those moments, when they never felt the need to fill the quiet with empty words. He appreciated the easy calm of afternoons spent together, the subtle glances, and the way Katsuki never pulled away from his presence.
It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t romantic in the traditional sense, but it was theirs. It was enough.
***
Even over the Christmas break, he and Katsuki met at night to attend Simbang Gabi, each promising to complete nine nights of mass.
December brought a different kind of serenity in the air, despite everyone else already bustling their asses for the coming holidays.
The air was cool, and the scent of freshly cooked rice cakes and hot chocolate lingered in the streets as they walked home from church. Streetlights and the faint glow of Christmas lanterns hanging from windows lit the streets.
They blended with the festive crowds but all Eijirou could focus on was Katsuki, whose hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket.
Then, quietly, Katsuki said, “What are you going to wish for?”
It was said that if you completed the nine evening masses before Christmas, God would grant you the grace of giving whatever your heart desired.
Eijirou laughed. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
Katsuki only hummed and breathed hard. For a moment, Eijirou just waited, watching the way Katsuki’s breath fogged the air.
“What about you?” Eijirou asked. “Is there anything else the great Katsuki Bakugou could want?”
There was a pebble on the street. Katsuki kicked it. “Nah,” he said. “God’s not a genie. He doesn’t grant wishes.”
“Okay,” Eijirou said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it?”
“Got nothing to ask for,” said Katsuki. He turned his head, facing Eijirou. “I already have you.”
The words hung in the air, delicate and precious, and Eijirou’s heart nearly stopped. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, his mind racing to process what he’d just heard.
Katsuki—tough, unflinching Katsuki—had said it. He had said it without actually muttering the words out loud.
Eijirou had gotten what he was wishing for.
***
“The laws haven’t changed, right?” Eijirou’s uncle asked. “As far as I know, gay marriage is still not recognized.” He hauled a platter of rice cakes out of the van.
“It’s symbolic,” answered his aunt. “They’ve been together since high school! It’s high time they get married.”
Eijirou walked towards them, picking up fruit baskets and whatever else he could carry. “I can hear you, Tito,” he said.
The air was already thick with a medley of scents from simmering meat, soy sauce, and fried garlic. Eijirou had no doubt that the Bakugous would not scrimp on food for the occasion, but as tradition went, they had brought a carful of their own dishes to share with them.
His aunt hit his uncle with her fan. “I told you to watch your words.”
His uncle laughed. “I didn’t say anything!”
Both Eijirou and her aunt looked at him with beetle-brows and tight lips, shaking their heads at him.
“What’s taking you people so long?” Eijirou’s mother piped up, striding behind them. “Get these inside. It’s not nice to make the Bakugous wait.”
The street was already packed with parked cars, likely belonging to Katsuki's relatives, all there to meet Eijirou’s nuclear and extended family.
“Yeah? I don’t see you carrying anything,” said his uncle.
“I’m the mother of the groom, I’m exempt.”
“The groom is currently carrying five things at once, Ma,” Eijirou said.
She kissed the top of his head. “It’ll show your future in-laws that you’re strong and reliable.”
“Where’s Dad?” he asked. “He was supposed to be here like five minutes ago.”
“He’s getting the lechon and picking up your Tita Baby and her family,” answered his uncle. “Hey, do you think there’s anyone from the Bakugous who could beat us in drinking?”
“Now’s not the time to get into competitive drinking, Tito. We’re here to ask for Katsuki’s hand, not get them drunk!”
“We could get drunk after the wedding plans have all been laid out,” his uncle answered. “I gave your father a tough time when he asked for your mom’s hand, you know. The poor guy was knocked out til noon the next day!”
“But we’re the ones asking for Katsuki’s hand in marriage, Tito.”
“Huh.” His uncle paused. “But wasn’t he the one who proposed? He should be the one asking for your hand! If you ask me, it’s his family who should be working to impress us. How does this work?”
That was true. Katsuki had been the one to propose.
They had been on vacation and Katsuki had surprised him with breakfast in bed. On the tray, he had laid down four strawberries, the words of his proposal scribbled on each.
More than the pure elation he had felt in that moment, Eijirou had almost fallen off the bed when he read the words inscribed on the little fruits.
“I think you messed up the order of the words,” he’d said.
“No,” Katsuki had answered, “that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Eijirou choked on air.
Because the strawberries were arranged to read: YOU WILL MARRY ME!
The memory still made his heart flutter.
“Sorry, but I’m serious. How do these things work between uh…” his uncle’s eyes darted around, as if the next words he needed would strut from around the corner.
Eijirou grinned in amusement. “Between two guys? You can say it, Tito. Your nephew’s marrying a guy.”
“Right…”
“But uh, yeah,” Eijirou said, catching his breath as he tried to balance the conversation and everything he was lugging around. “I was the one who wanted to do this. Just seemed right. I was the one who courted him, after all.”
“Huh.” His uncle paused again, then a slow smile crept up his face. “You went through courtship, huh?”
“Yup.”
"Well, that makes sense. You’ve always been the one to go all in, haven’t you?"
Eijirou smiled as well. “If you think I go all in, you should get to know my fiancé more.”
“I’d love to,” his uncle said, “but sometimes that kid scares me. Why does he always look pissed?”
Eijirou burst out laughing.
He even forgot about the strain in his arms from carrying the baskets and platters all the way to the Bakugou house.
It was Katsuki’s mom who opened the door for him, clad in a lavender dress that made her skin glow.
“Sorry, Tita,” Eijirou said. “Can’t really- uhm.”
It was disrespectful not to take her hand and press it to his forehead as a way to greet her and simultaneously ask for blessing.
She laughed, grabbing one of the baskets. Then, she herself pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Bless you,” she said. “Katsuki’s in the kitchen.”
“Tita, this is my Tito Fred. He’s mom’s brother.”
“Make yourself at home,” she said.
Guiding Eijirou to the kitchen, she buzzed about and waved off the other members of the Bakugou clan waiting for Eijirou to take their hands and ask for their blessing.
“Let the kid settle in first,” she said. “Plenty of time to catch up later.”
Katsuki was busy plating a platter of shrimp when Eijirou found him in the kitchen. The room was a swirl of movement, but not Eijirou’s world. He stood and watched Katsuki as if time slowed down around them. His heart clenched in the kind of warmth that only years of togetherness could nurture.
He didn’t need a child’s game anymore to determine his fate—his future was standing right there, in front of him, wearing the manliest scowl he’d ever seen.
The courtship had long been over, and yet it would never truly end. Katsuki was the goal, the endgame.
Katsuki glanced over his shoulder with a grunt that Eijirou knew translated to "What took you so long?"
Eijirou felt it deeper—this was his forever.
And just like that, Eijirou’s world tilted, making everything—the courtship, the jokes, the waiting—worth it.