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Katsuki liked to think he had always known all the best secrets. The hole-in-the-wall ramen place with the spiciest noodles, which brand of pens didn't tear through his paper when he wrote too sharply, the brand of soap that could cut through the sweat on his palms without drying his skin, and hiking trails far from the beaten path. He didn't like sharing any of it either, something in his gut telling him these treasures were scarce even when it defied logic. But somehow, he was walking a familiar path only he should know, following Kirishima. Actually letting him lead the way across sacred ground.
And he'd invited him. Willingly.
Not the first hike, or even the third, but eventually it became instinctual when he put on his boots to check if his neighbor was craving fresh air too. And he always did. Eijirou took to the outdoors like, well, a rock . Nothing seemed to deter him; not the weather, how much homework they had, or Katsuki's mood. That day though, asking him to head out hadn't been habit or some indifference to having company. He intentionally wanted to carve out time alone. Together.
Every other hike he'd chalk up his racing heart and the oxygen hitting his lungs like it was the first time to the exercise. It was blood flowing and muscles pumping, sheerly physiological responses. But then the feeling was there afterwards in the ramen shop with Kirishima. And in the empty train car later, refusing to sit next to Kirishima as he complained about how sore he would be. It wasn't until he was back in his bed laying face up in the dark that his heart rate felt normal again. Except there was a flash of Kiri's smile in his mind and his heart would start all over.
Something had been wrong with him for a while. Feeling like just basking in someone's presence made you breathe better wasn't normal. At least, it wasn't normal for Katsuki who'd always hated sharing oxygen with waste of space extras. But Kirishima wasn't an extra, proven by the fact that he'd learned all of Katsuki's best-kept secrets without ever realizing they were private in the first place.
All his best-kept secrets, except for one.
"You're really trailing behind today, what's up with you?" Kirishima asked, stalling on the trail as he waited for Bakugou to catch up. He'd likely asked because the only times Katsuki had been known to fall behind were when he was coming down with something.
"Nothing, I'm fine." He adjusted the straps of his backpack as it had been awkwardly slipping from his sweating hands for the hundredth time. Usually it wasn't packed so heavy.
Usually he wasn't so nervous he could probably sweat through a pair of wool mittens.
“Well we’re almost to the top, do you need a water break?” Kirishima motioned to grab at his bag, making Katsuki stumble in the gravel.
“N-no!” If he went pawing through the bag Katsuki would lose his nerve before he’d finished building it up. But the hands headed his direction had froze at his shouting and he realized that had been an overreaction.
“Let’s just finish.” He tried overtaking Kirishima but his stride surpassed him in just a few moments. That was what Katsuki liked about Kirishima's continued presence; he encouraged Katsuki to push his limits. Not only the burn in his muscles or even the racing heart and clear lungs. Beyond physicality he was pushing the limits of what he felt, which was strangely emotional.
He just didn't know how to say it all out loud. The thoughts and feelings existed in his mind as abstract concepts, but when he spoke them, it felt like a foreign language on his tongue. The incline was leveling under his feet though and he knew the time to stall was up. They'd reached the flat cliffs edge where it seemed everything had tapered off. The trees and rocks gave way to a flat expanse of earth overlooking the things they'd left behind.
The backpack finally slipped from Katsuki's grip, and he dropped their lunches on the ground. Tucked safely between the bentos and a blanket he'd brought was the letter attempting to put his thoughts down in ink. It ended with a lot of crumpled stationary in his waste bin, but it was still easier than getting the words out of his mouth. Where did he start?
Kirishima was looking out at the horizon but his eyes weren't in focus. Katsuki decided to start with the water and pulled it out, nudging the other boy with the cold end of the bottle. He flinched away, snapping back to reality from the sensation, and laughed.
"Thanks, man." He started downing the water like a fish, not minding any of Katsuki's former lectures on how chugging water didn't hydrate properly. He didn't have that lecture in him now. The only thing he could focus on were the droplets of water collected on Kirishima's lips when he did stop drinking.
"Hey, you brought lunch too!? No way! What'd you make?" Kirishima asked, approaching eagerly. Katsuki's instinct wanted to wrench away once more, but there was nowhere left to go except over the cliff. He pulled out the matching red and black lunch boxes and passed both over for his hands to be free.
"Kirishima, I wanted to tell you something." It was easier to blurt all the words out at once, his hand around the paper assuring him he wouldn't be speaking for very long. What was he supposed to say next?
"Be my boyfriend!"
It wasn't supposed to sound like such a command. There could have been a 'will you' at the beginning or at least a question mark at the end of the sentence. His face was engulfed in heat as he blushed in light of Kirishima's stunned face. Katsuki ripped the letter out of the bag and shoved that in his hands too, opting to take his lunch as he did. The sooner he could start stuffing his mouth the quicker he could stop using it, right?
Kirishima's eyes were wide as the gears in his head continued turning. One moment he'd been excited about Katsuki's cooking and the next he was registering the word boyfriend. He looked at the letter and started to wrinkle the paper when Katsuki shouted again.
"No, you can't read it here!" he said, hands darting to cover the envelope. The point of the letter was supposed to be not having to face Kirishima's reaction to his confession.
"Wha? How am I supposed to decide if I'm your boyfriend if I can't read the confession?" Kirishima held the letter out of Katsuki's reach, though he didn't have any intention of opening it if that was how he really felt.
"You have to think about it?" Katsuki should have been offended, but he wasn't surprised, considering the way he'd gone about this.
"No, but I should at least sample your cooking before I say yes, right?" Kirishima's pointed grin was insufferable, but he'd let Katsuki off the hook.
"Let me spread out the blanket."
Eijirou had read the letter at least a hundred times since that night alone in his dorm. He was actually thankful Bakugou had insisted on not reading it in his presence, because it had given him the freedom to tear up without frantically wiping them away. No controlling his reaction or putting on a performance for someone else. That was what their relationship was.
It was a relationship because of course he said yes. Not everything changed about their relationship all at once, especially around others. In public they were the same as ever: two men who were closer than close. There was no dramatic shift in the air or morning where he woke up and could suddenly see a range of new colors. Their classmates didn't scrutinize them with any increased suspicion. The world was turning at the exact same rate as before but Eijirou felt like he was on a tilt-a-whirl. Just sitting next to each other in the common areas had a new electric charge to it as he worried somebody might notice the subtle differences in his posture and call them out.
He took great pains to hide, but it came so naturally to Bakugou. It was as if he didn't feel that same pull to shower affection and show Eijirou off. The thought felt like twisting an old knife that had been stuck in him long ago. Something he reached for habitually when he needed a reminder that he was feeling something. But each time the twinge of pain crept in, eventually they found themselves alone, and Katsuki would look up at him from his book and smile for no reason.
It made him think of the worn folds of the letter each time. Right where he'd written the line 'I never knew that the key to my happiness could live inside another person.' He'd written so many romantic quotes, Eijirou would have questioned if he'd gotten someone else to write it had he not known better. Even if the words didn't sound like Katsuki, they felt like him. The throughline being that his love stemmed from a feeling of pride was enough to understand. Katsuki wasn't hiding him.
So what if they were keeping a secret from everyone? It meant no one was watching them too closely. That they might not notice Kirishima had slipped into Bakugou's room early in the evening and stayed through the night. It wouldn't be the same since the school year had ended and they were out of the dorms. Safe to move back with their parents.
Bakugou had been so caught up in getting out from under the thumb of their teachers and classmates, that he forgot what was waiting for them. Parents. It was out of the frying pan and into the flame.
Their classmates might not have asked questions, but moms always did. Even the most innocuous lines of thinking would lead you directly into their trap. Eijirou had met Mitsuki before they started dating, been to the Bakugou household and all. But now, standing there taking off his shoes, once again it felt like he was spinning. Nothing had changed on the outside, but deep down everything was different.
He'd hardly knocked when Katsuki had thrown the door open at breakneck speed, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it just to intercept any parental interaction. The plan had been a bust though. The moment Kirishima entered the house at large, a woman who looked strikingly like Katsuki was addressing the couple.
"Katsuki, is your friend staying for dinner?"
Ei swore he would've heard a pin falling on carpet in the heavy silence. His heart stopped and he was holding his breath as he turned the word over in his mind again and again. Friend. Was Katsuki going to correct her?
"Yeah, and he eats like he has four stomachs so make enough." It never failed to stun Kirishima the way Katsuki spoke to his parents. In shouts and demands like he had every right.
"Oh, you really don't have to go to any trouble!" Kirishima didn't want to impose on the family before he was even allowed to be fully honest about who he was.
"Who taught you it was okay to comment on how much people eat?" Mitsuki admonished her son in one breath and turned to Kirishima with the next. "It's no trouble, please, ignore my son's poor manners."
"You fucking raised me." Bakugou huffed without missing a beat. Eijirou could recognize the blood vessel popping expression on his mom's face instantly because he'd seen it on her son's face so many times.
They were walking up the stairs before she even had the chance to shout a long futile 'language!' at him.
The sound of the door clicking shut muffled the sounds from the kitchen floating up the stairs, and that heavy silence was back. Maybe it only weighed on Eijirou, because Katsuki was flopping on the wrinkled spot in his perfectly made bed where he must have been sitting before. The entire room was tidy in a way Kirishima's would never be even when expecting company. He definitely wouldn't have made the bed.
He put his bag down on the computer chair and sat stiffly at the opposite end of the bed. That was enough to crease Katsuki's neutral expression, though even his blank face always looked a bit like it was frowning.
"You don't have to stay for dinner," he said, eyes scanning the redhead's face for his own telltale microexpressions. "If it's too weird."
"You just told your mom to make extra food for me." That wasn't the issue currently on the table, but it was where Bakugou had decided to start. It wasn't his first time at the house or even the first dinner he'd share, it was the word friend hanging over him like a rain cloud.
"Because I know you want to stay." Katsuki didn't say ‘for dinner’. He sat up from lounging against the pillows and nudged into Kirishima's stiff body. "Come on, don't be like that." Instead of continuing to plead with words, he opted for kissing the side of Ei's face. He shivered at the breath near his ear, jerking back awkwardly.
"Like what? I'm just being your friend," Kirishima said. If Katsuki had said it, the tone would have been biting but somehow the coolness made it sting worse.
"Shut up, you're my boyfriend." Katsuki couldn't speak too loudly, and the whispering should have made it all the worse. But he was still smiling, trying for another kiss. "Besides, if I told her we wouldn't be up here with the door shut." That was the best point to pop Kirishima's icy bubbling insecurity. He turned his head to kiss Katsuki back with full appreciation for how alone they were.
"Well, it's not exactly a lie you know..." Kirishima said once he'd broken the kiss. (Bakugou had shown no signs of stopping.) "I am still your friend. It's in the word." They'd gone from classmates to friends, but that hadn't undone the prior relationship. Why wouldn't it be the same when they went from being best friends to boyfriends?
Katsuki didn't look like he liked the idea as much. He was frowning again, but this time their faces were inches apart, so it was easier to rectify.
"Yeah, but you're not just my friend," Katsuki whispered, tugging on Eijirou so he'd continue to pull in closer. "Even before we were dating, you were never just a friend." The words felt heavier than the silence from earlier, and the only thing Kirishima could do to face them was kiss Katsuki again. He let himself be pulled from the distant position at the end of the bed.
"Show me," Eijirou matched Katsuki's whisper as his weight settled on top of him. Below him the blonde's pale skin was flushing brighter and brighter red as hands on his body were added into the mix.
"You're my boyfriend," he mumbled again, putting his arms around Eijirou's neck to prove he wasn't letting go. "You're mine."
Maybe staying for dinner wouldn't be so bad.
Katsuki was starting to realize the issue with keeping their relationship a secret was he'd thrown a perfectly good rejection excuse out the window. 'I have a boyfriend' tended to deter affections much better than a flat out no. Except, Katsuki was much better at giving out harsh, shouted rejections that nipped most affection in the bud. Whereas Kirishima was far, far too polite for anything of the sort.
His rejections came with so much grace and charm they might as well have been 'maybe later' s. All sorrys and smiles, it drove Katsuki mad. Even when he knew there was no chance Kirishima would be interested, like with women. It was the idea that anyone else thought themselves worthy of even a chance. Nobody deserved Eijirou, least of all him, and anyone who truly knew him would know that.
It was probably what had him lashing out so severely when they were supposed to be playing the role of good heroes. In their final year of school, internship work was as intensive as it was going to get before turning to real hero work. They were the guiding example for all the younger hero course students. Being a good role model was certainly a struggle for someone who happily called themselves Murder God.
The way his fingers were twitching on an invisible trigger now, he lived up to the name. Two first year girls on either side of Red Riot looked up at him with stars in their eyes. It was impossible not to look at something dazzling and have glitter reflected back in your own gaze. That didn't make them special. Someone special wouldn't covet what wasn't theirs. His burning gaze wasn't doing anything to scare the girls off. In fact, he wasn't sure they'd noticed him at all.
"No waaay you're still a student!" The shorter girl in a blue spandex suit was gushing as she reached for Kirishima's arm. He did slickly evade it, as his hand darted through his hair.
"I would have sworn you were a pro already the way you work!"
He hated that what they were saying was true, so he couldn't even deny them that. It was the ulterior motive that corrupted their words. The other girl, a cat hybrid, jumped in.
"Yeah, your hero costume is amazing, who's the designer?" she asked, clearly not out of appreciation for his fugly shoes as she tried grabbing on as well.
"Hey! Shouldn't you two be handling crowd control?" Katsuki had set a new record in self control at how long he'd kept from snapping. Both girls jumped like they'd been scolded by a teacher and shot him sideways glances.
"What's his problem?" Spandex asked, slinking back.
"Seriously..."
"My problem is from watching two nobodies try to grope my boyfriend when they should be working!" That snapped them out of the lovestruck gaze only because it was impossible to look dumbfounded and flirtatious. Katsuki liked flipping the script for once, making it so he wasn't the one who didn't know what to say. Kirishima was just smiling away as he rejoined his proud boyfriend on the sidewalk.
"Hey, I thought that was supposed to be our secret?" Kirishima covered his genuine confusion in a layer of charm, no doubt trying to soothe his steaming partner.
"Not if you're gonna keep going out in public like that," Katsuki huffed, not so easily swayed.
"Remind me to take my shirt off more often then." Eijirou grinned, crossing his arms over his chest with intention.
"Like you need a reminder."
It was class 3-A's last Christmas together and despite being the romantic holiday that it was, there had still been an insistence on celebrating together. Eijirou would never be bitter about an invite to a party with all his closest friends. Not when he was so lucky to even have the number of people that he did. Katsuki was another story though, grumbling all the way to the party in festive attire.
"Oh, c'monnn. Don't pout! We can still watch Die Hard at your place later tonight," Eijirou implored, lacing their fingers together the moment the elevator doors had closed. Every sliver of alone time was an opportunity for stolen affection.
"It's not about fucking Die Hard ," Katsuki grumbled, taking great pains to keep the grouchy facade up with Eijirou's thumb massaging the back of his hand.
"I should be flattered you're this protective over our alone time," Eijirou said, wanting to pull his boyfriend closer when he acted so cute. His frown told him not to, as he would be in hot water for the remainder of the night.
"You know I hate karaoke." Every Class A Christmas party, there was Denki Kamanari and his fucking karaoke machine. The screen overhead flashed to the floor before their stop and Eijirou dropped Katsuki's hand by the time the doors opened.
"Nobody's making you sing." The hall they were greeted with was decked to the nines, garland leading them to their destination.
That may be technically true, but Eijirou knew there was nothing worse than watching everyone have fun without you. Better than that, he knew Katsuki could only listen to so many off-key numbers before he demanded a turn to show them how it was done. That was what he'd expected but Katsuki was still sitting in the corner at a low table tasting a variety of hot drinks Momo had brought to share. They looked like an odd pair, but Katsuki had complained about how much sugar Ei took in his tea enough times that he knew they weren't as unsuited as they seemed.
"Hey, dude you're on deck. What song are you singing?" Denki had his phone in hand, ready to queue up the instrumentals to any song of their choosing.
"Uhhh, it's a surprise. Gimmie that." Kirishima snatched the phone, minding the cord so he wouldn't cut Tsu and Uraraka's ABBA performance short.
"You better not be queueing Rick Astley twenty-seven times again," Denki warned, trying to peer at the screen but he was too short.
"Dude, that was you," Eijirou said.
Katsuki hadn't moved aside from putting the ceramic to his lips, but that was fine. As long as he didn’t end up needing to relieve himself before Eijirou could take his turn. Momo, none the wiser to the fact that she was assisting in Kirishima’s grand plan, picked up the teapot to refill their cups. When the song ended, the room erupted with cheers and applause, more enamored with the performance than any vocal skill.
“Who’s up?” Uraraka asked, waving the pink sparkly microphone in her hand.
“It’s me!” Kirishima’s hand shot a little too eagerly and nearly fumbled the audio equipment, which Jirou would no doubt chew him out for.
The interaction had attracted the blonde’s attention, head turned to listen without looking like he was paying rapt attention. Katsuki heard Eijirou sing a lot. Despite his lack of talent, he wasn’t shy about his attempts at belting in the car.
Attempts being a nice way of putting it.
When the guitar opening started to filter through the speakers, Ei could see Katsuki's grip had nearly shattered the glass in his hand. He set it down with an audible smack as Kiss' I Was Made For Lovin' You filled the room. Everyone else cheered cluelessly at the fun choice in a classic song, though he'd forgotten how suggestive the lyrics were until they were scrolling across the screen.
Only the two of them knew the deeper meaning of his song choice, tied to the memory of a past winter break. Long after the credits to Die Hard had rolled but still sometime before the New Year, Kirishima had refused to put an end to their days-long sleepover, hitting play on yet another movie. Katsuki grumbled something about hating musicals but had sunk deeper into his pile of pillows and tugged their shared blanket to force Eijirou closer to him.
He couldn’t remember much of the plot of Moulin Rouge! because during the romantic medley Katsuki had kissed him for the first time. Probably in order to get out of watching the aforementioned hated genre. It worked, in the moment, but it didn't get him out of hearing the soundtrack later.
Everyone else was none the wiser. What guy didn't pick a classic rock song at karaoke? So he was no Paul Stanley–or Ewan McGregor–everyone else sounded really good on the ' doo doo doo 's. Everyone except Katsuki, whose jaw might as well have been welded shut. He couldn’t pull away from watching out of the corner of his eye though. Kirishima wasn’t one of those people who needed to transform into someone else entirely to have stage presence. Like he was unbreakable but every crack to his skin had been put there to make him shine.
He ended the song with the question ‘can you get enough of me?’ and grinned wickedly. The cheers interspersed through the room as he passed the mic off to Iida who waited patiently for his turn to take a whack at a Queen song.
The corner of the room was now unoccupied as Jirou had roped Momo into planning the next duet on Denki’s phone and there was no sight of Bakugou until a voice made Ei jump.
“That’s a tough act to follow,” Katsuki muttered over Eijirou’s shoulder. He couldn’t tell if the compliment was laced with sincerity by tone alone, but there were no glaring daggers when he turned to face the blonde.
“You think so?” Iida didn’t seem shaken by it, but Kirishima would drink the compliments out of Katsuki’s mouth if it were physically possible.
“Sure.” Katsuki shrugged. “But I prefer that David Bowie number.” Eijirou sputtered a bit at the suggestion that he should have opted to sing Heroes instead.
“Dude, that song is like six minutes long!” It was a good song, but the memory tied itself to the time they’d watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower which was not nearly as romantic of a story given all the snot and tears.
“I’m not worth it?” Eijirou’s eyes flicked nervously around the room, but Katsuki was smirking in a way that said he wasn’t in any real trouble. He was worth actually singing Rick Astley twenty-seven times, if he demanded it.
“I’ll give you a private show later,” he promised, trying to keep the deeper implication out of his tone while people were still listening.
“You wanna sing so bad I’ll make your ass go caroling in the snow,” Katsuki said.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” The cold didn’t bother him all that much. Less than Katsuki who would take any opportunity to shove his feet against the warmest expanse of skin they could find.
“Hey shitty hair, look up.” The way Bakugou spoke made Kirishima fear he’d been lured under an ACME anvil without even noticing. Instead, it might as well have been something as heavy. Only it was a small bundle of green leaves and white berries. He incorrectly thought the berries were supposed to be red, like Katsuki’s eyes. Something Christmas-ier. But it was something pure and light, and he wondered if Katsuki was asking him to escape it before anyone noticed.
“Mistletoe,” Ei murmured like he was scared speaking any louder would turn every head in the room.
“Remind me… Who you were made for loving again?” Katsuki was grinning, which settled the anxiety bubbling in Eijirou’s stomach ever so slightly.
“You, baby.” His cheeks were tinged as bright as his hair torn between looking Katsuki in the eye and staring up.
“Funny, I think that’s all I want for Christmas too.” The decision was made for him when a hand tugged the back of his neck to pull Eijirou down into a kiss.
He was so nervous it actually felt like kissing for the first time again. He’d forgotten all about breathing through his nose and how to angle his head the right way. It was an embarrassing show for the audience considering the performance he’d just given. Somehow Katsuki was better at this too, despite a mutual lack of experience in public displays of affection.
“Kacchan!” Deku gasped, the first to notice.
“Dude! What are you doing?” Denki asked, sinking the final nail into the coffin that killed the moment. Bakugou turned to glare at the other blonde.
“Kissing my boyfriend?” Katsuki said it the way one would confidently tell someone the date. 'December 25th. Merry Christmas.' Eijirou was actually physically swelling with pride, testing the capacity of his lungs.
“ Whaaaat !?” So much for Iida’s performance as everyone had in fact started to stop him now, shouting about the “new” couple.
“Alright, I’m ready to leave.” Katsuki grumbled, hiding deeper in the festive hat he’d been forced to wear yet another year.
“Ooh, must be time for the Die Hard/Love Actually double feature!” Deku said with familiar certainty.
“Shut the hell up, damnit!”
Katsuki had lost count of how many nights he’d slept at Kirishima’s apartment, which meant he needed to get home before his mother reported him missing. Graduation had come and gone, along with the silent promise he’d made himself to tell his parents by that point. He’d missed his chances, or perhaps intentionally dodged them each time they came up. It wasn’t like Eijirou was mad at him for not coming out to his parents, constantly exerting pressure on him to profess their love. No he was too chivalrous and perfect for that, which only made Katsuki’s failure all the more stupid.
Everyone else knew. It stopped being a secret among their class and on the street. He kept professional when the uniforms were on, but each day he worried about his parents finding out the truth from some tabloid instead of him. Except the truth wouldn’t be in a tabloid. Not his truth.
His parents weren’t going to turn on him in shock and disgust, throw him out, swear him off the family name forever. Even if they did, he had an ironically soft place to land at Kirishima’s.
This was the final weight left on the other side of the scales. The last part of his life that was unchanged and in the dark. But why did he think that was a good thing? He was comfortable in darkness. Sure sometimes it had him lying awake with his hand pressed to his forehead staring into nothing as anxiety gnawed on his insides. There had also been a lot of warm thoughts keeping him up and some of his best showings had been in the dark. But none of that had anything to do with telling his parents.
“You look like such a creep when you don’t blink like that,” a groggy voice croaked at his side.
“You’re staring at me, and somehow I’m the creep?” Katsuki asked, blinking at the reminder. Eijirou’s arm settled over Katsuki like a weighted blanket sinking him deeper into the mattress.
“Yeah,” he yawned, closing his eyes. “The biggest creep… But I’m into it.” It was tempting to melt back into the golden morning so easily, the warmth radiating off Ei like a space heater. Too tempting, so the point of his elbow took over to get him out.
“Would you move your stupid tree trunk limbs? I have to get ready for work.” The elbow had made quick work of it already but his grouchy nature took the opportunity at a jab.
“Ow! Hey, I’ve never heard you complain before.” Eijirou recovered quickly, cuddling into his pillow just as naturally.
“It’s Sunday,” Ei muttered sleepily as Katsuki began opening and closing dresser drawers pointedly ignoring that half his closet lived here. “Going to dinner with your parents tonight?” His mom would have had him returning for every dinner if his schedule could afford it, but she settled for weekly.
“Yeah,” Katsuki said once his head was on the other side of the shirt hole. “You want to join?”
“I have patrol tonight, but I can try to swing by…” In uniform ? Katsuki’s heart was racing already. “I hope there’s grilled meat.” That earned an eye roll, because of course he did. No meal was complete without a healthy serving of protein.
“Do whatever you want.” Katsuki leaned over the bed to collect his morning kiss and make up for the earlier elbow to the ribcage.
“Well I can’t do that since you’re not in my bed anymore, but I’ll settle.” Eijirou was lying on his back with a golden shaft of sunlight streaming across his abdomen and talking like that when he had to leave which should have been a crime. One Katsuki could apprehend with handcuffs.
“Easyyy.” Katsuki kissed him one more time in parting, resisting the magnetic pull of the attempts at deepening their kiss. When he was finally in the doorway one last summoning got him to stop.
“Katsuki.” Ei turned his head on the pillow to face the bedroom door. “I love you.” That made his heart pound harder than all the images of pinup-calendar-worthy Red Riot. Fuck, how could he not tell his parents about that? But then, how could he even think about sharing a fraction of this with anyone else? He wanted to lock the door behind him and preserve the moment like an exhibit, waiting for him to slip back in.
“I love you, morning breath.” Katsuki opened the door despite all his wishes.
“ Hey .” The protests were getting sleepier and sleepier. There were ups and downs to working opposite shifts.
“Be safe,” Katsuki beat Eijirou to saying it in his groggy haze before the door clicked shut. Whenever one of them said it, the other felt it as a reminder for themselves too. ‘I love you, be safe.’ There’s something to come home to.
So he put on his shoes and went to work.
The faster he got out of work the faster he could quit thinking about dinner with his parents and start having it. If he didn’t get through telling him this thought was going to continue to circle the drain every week, for what? The rest of his life ? He shuddered at the thought. Katsuki didn’t even let his mother dress him anymore, so why was this his biggest hurdle? It couldn’t be fear of disapproval when she openly liked Kirishima better than her own son. That meant it was the opposite then. Fear of making things real with finality. And then all at once, standing on a street corner and watching the school kids crossing the street, it hit him why he’d waited so long to tell his parents.
Suddenly Katsuki was sprinting through the rest of his patrol, like sweating through it might make the day go faster. At least he had a shower waiting for him back at the agency, and who cared if he was a little gruff with the little old ladies he had to return stolen purses to?
The communal shower meant his mom wouldn’t be on him about how he was stinking the place up and ruining the flavor profiles of her perfect dinner, but it didn’t do much in the way of easing his sore muscles. He had a feeling only one thing was going to undo that and it wasn't any amount of shitty water pressure.
The blonde’s hair was still dripping when he finally planted his feet on his parent’s doorstep. A key sign he’d already mentally checked out of living there being that he waited at the door rather than simply entering like he would have as a teenager. He didn’t really have an interest in learning what parents were like behind closed doors when he already had a sick enough picture of what they were like openly.
His mother was scolding him the moment she opened the door, nagging about wet hair and lecturing that his shoes weren’t polished enough. Never mind that he’d walked there.
“Would you get off of me, you old hag!” he roared from under the cotton towel, being practically noogied with it. His mother did give in when Katsuki’s flailing arms were added into the equation, taking a step back.
“Call me an old hag all you want but that just makes you a young hag.” He couldn’t argue with that one, though a few years ago he would have tried anyway. Perhaps age had done some work to mellow him out. From the kitchen, he could smell the fumes of grilled meat wafting through the house like it had heard Kirishima’s prayers and itched to answer them.
The towel fell around his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen, peering over his dad's shoulder to inspect dinner. He’d grown taller than his old man by the time he graduated high school but not by much.
“Hungry?” His father asked, picking up one of the finished skewers and offering him the first bite. Katsuki was used to life as an only child, always being snuck first bites and small treats when nobody else was watching. Katsuki’s stomach rumbled in response and he pinched the bamboo between his fingers.
“That’s not enough food,” he said with a full mouth.
“Oh, is Kirishima coming?” Where his mother would have scolded him for poor manners his father blew right past it into reading him like a book.
“He’s working but he said he might swing by,” he said, helping himself to the water in the fridge next. “If not I can just take him leftovers.”
Katsuki froze at his words, running them back through his head as the deeper implication was processed. He’d been with him that day, he knew his work schedule and planned on seeing him later. He backed up even further to the fact his father had been bold enough to jump to the assumption immediately. He hadn’t been wrong, but still the audacity .
“Okay then. Sounds good, boss.”
“I just mean when I see him later not at-,”
“Katsuki, go take the rice out and help set the table.” His dad clipped off the feeble excuse with disinterest, gesturing to the white rice as if it were just as plain and boring as his words. He grumbled something about being interrupted before he parked himself in front of the sink.
“Fine, let me wash my hands…” Luckily for him his sweaty hands didn’t raise an eyebrow with his parents. Hell they were still buying the same fucking soap even in his absence. He knew they were the anxious kind of sweaty though because he shouldn’t have needed to wash up this soon after a shower.
He shook his hands off, all too used to his mother’s yelling about her towels and how the dryer had caught fire that one time, then took the rice to her. His hands were bare despite the heat of the pot but the only scolding was a handful of indignant ‘aht’ and ‘zzt’ noises as she gestured to the hot pads.
“Always nice to have your help around the house,” a statement like that out of his mom’s mouth couldn’t have sounded anything but sarcastic, but he knew she meant it.
“Yeah well don’t get too comfortable, I’m planning on moving out.” He hadn’t been expecting the bomb to come tumbling out of his mouth like that, but there it was.
“Whaaaaaat?” His father entered from the kitchen with the meat but Katsuki could smell more cooking. “You’re leaving us?”
“Masaru, did you know about this?” His mother was instantly accusatory at his father’s naturally nonchalant tone.
“No, not at all!” It was true, so why the hell did he sound like he was telling a lie? He set the first plate of skewers out next to the soup that wafted enough spice to tell him his mother made it.
“Where’s this coming from all of the sudden?” His mother asked as his father headed back to the kitchen to flip the meat.
All of the sudden? What house was she living in where he spent more than three nights a week? Katsuki was mainly clinging onto the old bedroom as handy storage for his All Might merch but it wasn’t like Kirishima didn’t have the space and something needed to combat the amount of Crimson Riot he was taking in.
“Mom, c’mon. Seriously?” This whole situation couldn’t have been fishier. “You couldn’t wait for me to get out of your house and now this?” If she turned sappy or started crying on him he’d actually worry there was a brain tumor at work. His mother looked ready to spear him with a chopstick which was in line with his expectations of her.
His father burst back in with Tsukemono and Katsuki scowled.
“Ugh, you know I hate radishes.” Even as he was trying to prove his maturity something came along to bring back his petulance.
“Then don’t eat them, Katsuki.” His father took a seat so they could start serving the food before he went back to grilling.
He said his thanks for the meal as he knew was proper but didn’t hesitate from digging in before everyone had their chance. Getting the miso soup down would at least stave off the premature conversation.
“So you’ve got somewhere to go all lined up?” His father asked, not touching his full plate. The question made Katsuki choke on broth and chili oil, coughing violently. Or not. His father reached to unhelpfully pat his back like he was a baby in need or burping all over again.
“It’s-, Stop! Don’t touch me,” he snapped, batting his father away. His dad got the hint and went to his plate instead. Katsuki cleared the cracked note out of his voice from the spice and tried again.
“There’s room at Kirishima’s.” Not a room, but a Katsuki-shaped space in the bed and sitting in his second kitchen chair. His parents exchanged a sideways glance and Katsuki sighed, putting down the bowl as it was clear he wasn’t going to enjoy this meal at no cost.
“Because… We’re together. Alright? Kirishima’s my boyfriend.” He waited for some kind of teasing or cooing or aww-ing to start but it didn’t come. It was worse than that.
“I guess it’s about time.” His mother was as rough around the edges as ever, despite how delicately she ate her rice.
“And that means I won.” His father said, much less straightforward in his response.
“Excuse me?” He was asking both of them, because really . The audacity. His mother was scowling an all too familiar scowl and Katsuki tried to wipe his face of the same emotion.
“Well, your father figured the two of you would get together closer to-,”
“Get together ?” Katsuki cut his mother’s explanation off. “Mom, no. We’ve been dating for three years! We’re moving in together, I want to marry him.” The last part slipped out as a surprise even to him. Not the thought that he wanted to marry Eijirou, he’d already had that realization earlier. But sharing it so suddenly. It really had been the thing holding him back. His certainty.
What right did he have to be oddly defensive now? Was it his fault his mother took him for being that emotionally stunted, or was not sharing for several years worse? Not letting them in until he was ready to go out ring shopping.
“Three years? Katsuki!”
“Oh, the meat is burning!” His father jumped up from his plate to get back to the kitchen, right as the doorbell rang. Perfect timing as always, his hero there for the rescue.
“I got it.” Eijirou was quite possibly the only thing that could tear Katsuki away from his plate at the end of a full day's work after all. “Not a word from either of you, damn it!” He didn’t want them blowing it with Kirishima by mentioning some odd stake they had in his relationship.
He threw open the door to the most comforting sight in the world. Kirishima wearing as little as possible. Well, he’d seen him in littler, but this was in public.
“Well, if it isn’t Red Riot knocking at my door.” Katsuki leaned in the doorframe like this was their new game. “What can I help you with today?” Kirishima fell into character immediately, his smile turning on the charm in a way that already had Katsuki’s stomach churning. He seriously better not have been that charismatic at every door.
“Thank goodness I found a concerned citizen. I was patrolling your block when suddenly I caught wind of the most amazing smell.” Katsuki should have set a timer for how long it took for the mirage to shatter.
“You’re just here for the grilled meat.” He shoved off the door frame to let Kirishima in, poking fun at how his broad shoulders wouldn’t fit through. Eijirou slipped off his shoes in the entryway, looking even more ridiculous in full hero garb and his socks. Hopefully there wasn’t a sudden emergency.
“Just so you know what you’re about to walk into, I told them,” Katsuki said, trying to keep his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. Kirishima froze in his quest for food, which was a testament in itself, and he even turned.
“Told them…?”
“That you’re my boyfriend.” Eijirou just wanted to hear him say it again. “And I’m moving into your place.”
“That’s great!” Eijirou was so thrilled by the first piece of news the second slipped past him. “Wait, you’re moving in? Full time?” Right, Kirishima hadn’t officially asked him. Except all those mornings spent begging him not to leave his bed, the pointed comments about a half-empty closet in the afternoon, and whispered reminders of where he belonged at night. Yeah, he’d asked alright.
“Yes, you and me. Full time. Unless you piss me off, then you’re sleeping here,” Katsuki warned.
“Why do I have to sleep here?” Eijirou’s protest came out as a whine, leaning only a fraction of his weight onto Katsuki before a voice made him spring back.
“Kirishima! It’s good to see you, come in.” Katsuki’s father was far too chipper in the hallway. They followed him deeper in the house where his mom had also risen from her spot at the table to greet them.
“Take Katsuki’s spot,” she told the redhead, looking like she wanted to throw a towel at him too. “It’s his fault your serving burned.” Another mirrored glare was exchanged by the pair.
“Ah, I’m so sorry for the intrusion!” Kirishima’s hands clapped together apologetically as he lowered his head in respect. “Thank you for the food!” Eijirou picked up right where Katsuki had left off, drinking from the same bowl of too spicy miso soup.
“So polite! You’re welcome any time.” Another pointed look from his mom was added to the plethora of tallies. Katsuki had taken the spot furthest from the door naturally, so it made sense his mother would oust him for a more esteemed guest.
“That’s why.” Katsuki muttered into his new plate of burnt meat.
Katsuki fiddled awkwardly with the bright red rose pinned to his lapel as he studied himself in the mirror. It wasn’t that being in formal dress didn’t suit him–no pun intended–but the occasion had him nitpicking the smallest of details like a wilting petal on his boutonnière. Details that could be fixed in post by the photographer, but not in his memory where he'd be living with the fact he gave Kirishima anything less than perfection. A knock at the door made him perk up despite the issue at hand, as he expected his fellow newlywed to be on the other side.
"Kacchan?" He deflated drastically upon the realization it was only Deku. "I have your plates."
That got him to open the door at least. It had been a no-brainer picking his best man, after the awkward moment where he realized he couldn't pick the man he was marrying had passed. Deku was his long suffering only friend, which was why their photography session had gone much quicker than Eijirou's half.
"Dinner looks amazing! Who did the catering, do you mind if I get their card?" Izuku asked, setting the plates on the lone table set up in the small dressing room.
"Deku-,"
"Oh, and everyone is having a great time at cocktail hour! That was a great idea to keep everyone busy while you took photos, Kacchan!"
"Deku-,"
"And taking a moment to have dinner before everyone else so you have time to eat before they all start talking your ear off, that's so smart!" That had been the idea.
"Deku-,"
"What happened to your boutonnière? You practically plucked it bald!" Deku closed the gap between them as rapidly as he spoke, reaching to unpin his lapel.
"Ow! Deku-, Hey! Do you ever shut the hell up?" He'd tried batting his friend away only to get stabbed with the needle holding his rose in the chest.
"Oh, sorry. I'm just so excited! You guys are really married!" Deku took off his own matching flower and replaced Katsuki's tortured one.
"I know, and I've hardly seen him which is why I'm trying to ask you where the hell is my husband?"
As if he were on cue, the side door popped open and Eijirou's freshly dyed head popped in.
"Sorry, sorry the photographer wanted one of all the guys carrying Mina and then Denki almost got grass stains all over my white pants." Katsuki scowled at the entire account but was sure when he saw the photos they'd be worth a bit of sweat. And possibly caving Denki's head in.
"Wooow is this the spread? Everything looks amazing!" Okay, now he was really scowling. Eijirou was too busy complimenting the food and not paying Katsuki any mind.
"Oh, hi Midoriya!"
"Bye, Deku." He had to draw the line somewhere, and Deku always seemed to be standing right on it.
"Oh! Right, sorry. Bye guys! Enjoy." Deku bowed out politely to leave the newlyweds with their intended alone time. "Kacchan, I'm keeping your mom busy but just know she's already had three drinks." The door clicked shut before there could be any further exploding at Deku, which there might have been if he hadn't been taking it all in. All being the nothingness of the moment. The silence, aside from a ringing in his ears, and the lack of people needling him. It was the first time he'd been left all alone with his husband.
He looked just as stunning as he had an hour ago standing at the end of the aisle in his pressed white suit. His parents had insisted on helping with that aspect, even though they were grumbling about the size of Eijirou's biceps all the way up to the day of. They balked at his request to go sleeveless but realized why by the end. His hair touched his shoulders only half up with the braid sitting around his ears. Mina had carefully woven the flowers like little white snowflakes in his hair to match the attire. He looked perfect, even with his clothes wrinkled, cheeks pink from standing out in the sun too long, and stray hairs framing his face. Why couldn't Katsuki look that good in all his imperfections?
"I'd kiss you right now, but people are going to be toasting their glasses all night to get that out of us so can we just eat?" Katsuki asked, being a gentleman and pulling out his husband's chair. They were on limited time, cut even shorter by the photos and ticking time bomb that was his mother awaiting her son for dinner.
"I knew I married you for a reason," Eijirou said, taking the seat even if he wanted to fight over who got to pull out the chair every time and had given up a lifetime of sleeping on the left side of the bed.
"My money and charm?" He had one of those things in spades and a career on the hero charts not even broaching the top ten.
"You have good taste." Katsuki would drink to that and of course the wine would be expensive.