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Katsuki is not a romantic guy by nature. All the lovey-dovey stuff gives him the creeps and he thinks that if any potential partner would want to hold his hand in public or—gods forbid—kiss him where everyone can see, he'd break out in hives.
He needs his hands to fight villains and mushy, disgusting relationship displays belong behind closed doors and that's a hill he's going to die on.
Katsuki also doesn't understand all that talk about butterflies and heart palpitations and sweaty hands.
There's no place for butterflies in his stomach, his heart has palpitations on any good day anyway and his hands are supposed to be sweaty.
Katsuki doubts he'd even notice the signs should they ever hit him and he's more than happy with that.
He doesn't care about romance in his life, he doesn't want romance in his life, and he's not going to accept romance in his life.
Katsuki's friends are giving him weird looks for it, when he loudly and proudly declares his stance on that but Katsuki is used to looks and judgement, so it hardly phases him. He just needs them to stop pestering him about going out with anyone and then things will be perfect.
It could all be so very easy and yet—
"You wanna split a waffle?" Hitoshi asks, sounding ridiculously bored as he studies the topping options and Katsuki wonders why he even came out with them if he doesn't want to be here.
"And enable your disgusting habits of eating only sugar? I think not," Katsuki scoffs out.
"You could pick some fruit and make sure I get a balanced diet," Hitoshi shoots back and fuck.
He has a point. One Katsuki can't resist because getting Hitoshi to eat anything even remotely healthy is a fight more difficult than any villain take-down Katsuki has done so far and so he's quick to agree.
And it doesn't matter at all to him that for a split second there's a pleased little smile on Hitoshi's face.
That really doesn't matter at all.
~*~*~
"Scoot over, you fucker, how dare you take up so much space with your freaky limbs," Katsuki growls out and lightly kicks Hitoshi's leg where it's sprawled out and taking up most of the space in Katsuki’s living-room.
"Sorry, angel," Hitoshi says, curling his freakishly long limbs up and for a moment there's a noise in Katsuki's head he can't quite pin-point.
It sounds like the voices of a choir and Katsuki doesn't care for that shit at all, so he pushes it all away, until blessed silence is the only thing left.
"Do not call me that," he—very—belatedly says and Hitoshi grins at him, even as he makes grabby hands for the popcorn Katsuki is carrying.
"Very convincing," Hitoshi says with a nod and then stuffs his mouth full as soon as Katsuki relinquishes the popcorn over to him.
"Fuck off, troll doll," he mutters, unsure what exactly just happened but damn well certain that he didn't like it and he thinks he's proven right when Hitoshi only smiles at him, instead of protesting the nickname like he has done so often in the past and it sets off a squeezy feeling in Katsuki's chest.
He rubs a hand over it, wondering if this is a new symptom of his fucked up heart and he only drops the hand when he feels Hitoshi's gaze burning into the side of his head.
"You okay?" he asks and if Katsuki didn't know better he'd say there's actual, genuine worry in his voice which really can't be.
"Mind your own business," he bites out, nudging their shoulders together to signify that he's okay and Hitoshi stares at him for a moment longer before he turns his gaze back to the TV.
"If you drop dead on my watch Midoriya is going to kill me," he says, as if he wouldn't mind at all, but just the simple fact that he mentioned it at all means he does care.
And just like that, the squeezy feeling is back.
Katsuki doesn't like it.
~*~*~
"Sit," Katsuki orders when Hitoshi stumbles into the kitchen.
He looks like death warmed over, pale and sweaty and Katsuki thinks he still spots a little bit of blood at his temple and the worry he feels drowns out everything else. Katsuki can care about the dirt Hitoshi dragged in later—right now it's more important that he gets him settled.
"How bad?" Katsuki asks once Hitoshi slumped over the table and Hitoshi only groans which can mean everything between "I am actually dying" to "I'm being a baby about a scrape".
You never know with him.
"Give me a serious evaluation," Katsuki demands and Hitoshi immediately rattles off a list of injuries—it's a lot, but they are all minor, so it's probably not that bad.
Nothing a shower and a good meal and ten hours of sleep can't fix.
"Go take a shower, I'll make you dinner," Katsuki says and pokes Hitoshi's head that's still face down on the table.
At that Hitoshi turns his head though, peering up at Katsuki with the softest look Katsuki has ever seen on him.
"Okay, angel," he says after a moment and drags himself up, clearly uncaring about the strange feeling he just set off in Katsuki's chest.
It's not his heart, that much he knows, and it's not that strange feeling from a while back either, but it's something soft and warm and Katsuki isn't sure he likes it. It almost feels as if the choir in his head is back too and that’s just not going to happen.
So instead of dwelling on it, he busies himself with making dinner for Hitoshi—something light but filling, something that's easy to make and that Hitoshi with his picky palate will like and it keeps him busy enough to forget about that feeling.
Until Hitoshi comes back out and drapes himself over Katsuki's back like an idiot.
"The fuck are you doing?" Katsuki bites out, going completely still under Hitoshi's weight, who just lets out a long sigh, goes even more boneless against Katsuki for a long moment and then steps back as if nothing ever happened.
"Thank you, Kats," Hitoshi mutters, going back to his place at the table where he slumps in his chair.
"Shut up, freak," Katsuki grumbles as he puts down a bowl in front of him and Hitoshi dugs in without another word.
It's good, it's comfortable and until Hitoshi crawls into Katsuki's bed—Katsuki lost the fight about him going home instead—Katsuki didn't think about how it all makes him feel.
But when he watches Hitoshi fast asleep, buried under Katsuki's blankets, mop of hair sticking out in complete disarray, the warmth in his chest is back and it almost chokes Katsuki.
Something is wrong. Something has to be wrong because there's no way this is normal, but he doesn't know who to ask about this, because like hell is he going to ask the Nerd.
He'd only freak out and think Katsuki was dying and he can do without the constant mother-henning.
So Katsuki needs another plan.
~*~*~
Katsuki doesn't particularly like calling his mother—prefers to see her in the flesh, actually—but planning for her birthday requires it because if he cooks and brings a dish she already made at home—again—he's going to scream.
So coordinating on the phone is much easier and probably way healthier for him so he bites the bullet and suffers through a five minute phone call with her.
It's the usual hell, at least right until she asks "Will you bring your boyfriend?"
It almost feels as if Katsuki blue-screens and it takes him way too long to answer.
"Katsuki? Will he be there or not?" she impatiently demands to know and Katsuki's brain comes back online.
"My what now?"
"Your boyfriend?" Mitsuki says again, as if it makes any more sense the second time around and Katsuki's eyes immediately fall onto Hitoshi, who is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through something on his phone and a small smile on his face.
He must notice Katsuki's stare though because he looks over and he frowns when he sees whatever expression Katsuki is currently making.
Katsuki barely feels his face, so he has no idea what it's doing.
"I have no idea who you're talking about," he weakly says, Mitsuki still waiting on the line and she scoffs.
"That purple haired lanky boy? What do you call him? Troll doll," she mutters and then, more brightly "Shinsou! Right, Shinsou Hitoshi, I think. Will he be there or not?"
"Mom, he's not my—" Katsuki starts but he can't find it in him to finish the sentence and isn't that terrifying in itself?
"Sure, whatever you kids need to tell yourselves these days," Mitsuki snorts out, clearly amused and unaware of Katsuki's ongoing crisis. "Will he be there or not?"
What? Hitoshi mouths from his spot on the couch and Katsuki takes the phone away from his ear before he covers the speaker with his hand.
"My mom wants to know if you'll be there for her birthday," Katsuki says and something about his voice must be horribly off because Hitoshi's gaze sharpens as he sits up.
"I can be, if you want me to," he agrees, though the worry is clear in his expression.
"He'll be there," Katsuki weakly relays to his mother who makes a satisfied noise and then promptly hangs up on Katsuki.
Which might be for the best because what the actual fuck just happened?
Boyfriends? Hitoshi isn't Katsuki's boyfriend—right?
There's no way that is a thing because Katsuki doesn't do romance.
"Kats, are you okay? Did something happen? Do you not want me to come? I don't have to," Hitoshi almost rambles, clearly trying to gauge just what the fuck is upsetting Katsuki so much.
"You're not my boyfriend," Katsuki blurts out and while the statement should be true, it doesn't feel good to say it and the split second of hurt on Hitoshi's face before it transforms into confusion doesn't help either.
"I kind of am, though?" he unsurely offers and it almost feels as if Katsuki is rapidly spiralling.
"You can't be, though!" Katsuki almost desperately says. "I don't do romance. I don't even know how that would look. I don't feel that kind of way!" he argues and he doesn't get it at all when Hitoshi's face softens.
"But you do feel some kind of way about me, don't you?" Hitoshi wants to know, leaning over the backrest of the couch and looking intently at Katsuki.
It's—true, Katsuki does feel some kind of way about Hitoshi, but surely that's not romantic in nature. Just because he feels—softer with him or more caring that doesn’t mean it’s romantic. There’s just no way.
"I don't get butterflies and shit. I don't want to hold your hand or kiss you or gross stuff like that," he gets out and Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards.
Katsuki thinks that maybe he should feel the urge to kiss him for that but he doesn't. He doesn't feel that way at all and surely that makes them non-boyfriends.
"Kats, romance and love doesn't have to be all of that," Hitoshi almost gently says. "You feel happy when you can take care of me, right? You like seeing me happy and content?"
"Yeah?" Katsuki unsurely gives back and Hitoshi nods.
"And you like having me in your space," he goes on, not even making it a question anymore. "You allow me in your bed."
"But we don't do anything there," Katsuki blurts out because they don't even so much as cuddle.
Sure, some days they wake up close and once in a blue moon they have cuddled up during their sleep but Katsuki gets out of these situations as fast as he can because he doesn't like it.
So surely he doesn't like Hitoshi, in that way, either.
"Would you allow anyone else into your bed? Izuku? Kirishima?" Hitoshi asks and he snorts out a laugh when Katsuki makes a disgusted face. "Thought so."
"But—surely that's not enough to—" call them boyfriends, Katsuki wants to say but the words don't make it past his lips.
"I love you," Hitoshi says as if it means nothing and Katsuki flinches on instinct but—
"I love you, too," he weakly says and realises that it's true even though he can't quite define it.
He doesn't love Hitoshi like he loves Deku or his parents but he's pretty certain that he doesn't love him in the romantic, lovey-dovey way either.
It's confusing the shit out of him, if he's being honest.
"You're my best friend," Hitoshi goes on as if Katsuki saying those words is just a normal Saturday for him and now this is just as confusing.
Because objectively speaking, Hitoshi is not. That place should go to Deku, but he feels more like a brother to Katsuki at this point in their lives. And then second in that spot is definitely Shitty Hair because Katsuki does all the dude-bro, friendship shit with him.
But Hitoshi—
Hitoshi is allowed into his apartment without fuss, even has his own key. Katsuki expects him to come here when he's off a mission, when he's hurt or upset or happy or excited—he wants to have all of Hitoshi's moods right here, in this apartment.
Hitoshi is allowed in his bed, in his kitchen, in his life, and even though nothing of what they are doing is by definition romantic in nature it sure is something.
"You're my—something," Katsuki weakly says, suddenly deathly afraid of upsetting Hitoshi but he only lets out an amused snort.
"Yeah, I know. And isn't that enough?"
"Is it?" Katsuki gives right back because he's the one with the strange definition of what constitutes as romance.
Hitoshi is probably perfectly normal in that regard and craving a kiss or seven and just the thought makes a squeezy feeling erupt in Katsuki's stomach. And it’s not a good one.
"It is," Hitoshi firmly says, clearly not understanding what kinds of things he won't be getting from Katsuki, so he has to elaborate on that.
"I'm not going to kiss you," he says and Hitoshi only nods.
"I know."
"We're never going to hold hands."
"Noted."
"Sex is off the table."
"Clearly."
"I'm not going to cuddle you."
"Kats, angel, seriously," Hitoshi says with an exasperated sigh. "I know. I know all of that. I know it's only ever going to be what we did so far but for me, that’s enough. Is it for you?"
What we did so far, Hitoshi says, as if there's truly anything they did. They spent time together. They care for each other. They have each other's back.
It doesn't scream romance at Katsuki, but still, he can't deny that it feels different from what he's doing with any of his other friends, and yeah, he would never allow anyone else free reign of his apartment like this and maybe, that means something.
Maybe it means more than Katsuki ever realised and he should bristle and be angry about not having realised what's going on, he should feel a certain kind of way about Hitoshi having to tell him about all of this and he would with everyone else but with Hitoshi—
He just doesn't.
It's okay. It's fine that he knew something before Katsuki did, it's fine that he understands what Katsuki doesn't and that means something.
"My mom expects my boyfriend to be there," Katsuki says, because he's stupid and awkward and this makes no sense at all and clearly Hitoshi understands that because he rolls his eyes at him.
"So you've said. Are you going to bring me along or not?"
"I'm certainly not going to explain to her why you're not there so you better make time," Katsuki snaps and Hitoshi's face lights up before he schools his expression and nods once.
"Boyfriend duties. Sweet," he mutters and stretches back out on the couch, clearly done with the conversation and Katsuki stares at him for a moment longer because none of this makes sense to him, still.
Hitoshi must pick up on that, too, because he heaves out a sigh and fixes Katsuki with a look.
"Boyfriend can just mean special, okay? Forget the romantic connotation attached to it. It just means our relationship is special—different from anyone else. Cool?"
It feels right, to think about Hitoshi as special to him—certainly much better than thinking of him as his boyfriend and so Katsuki nods.
"Cool," he decides and that seems to be that.
Hitoshi seems perfectly content with that and Katsuki feels like it, too.
Because special really is a good way to describe what Hitoshi is to him.