Work Text:
Katsuki sat at the desk in the bedroom, clicking away at something on the desktop when the door burst open and closed with a bang.
“Bakugou—“
“Wow, we don’t knock anymore?” Katsuki mused. “No wonder this place has gone to hell, chivalry is dead.”
The door opened, closed and a knock was heard.
“Funny. Come in.”
He hadn’t finished his sentence before the door burst open again. Katsuki sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“Bakugou. I think you know what this is about.”
“And back to my last name again, hm.”
There was scuffling behind Katsuki, before he heard a twump. He navigated to minesweeper, distractingly clicking different mines before it blew up. “Get comfortable, Hitoshi, yeah, welcome in, you’re using the key you refused to give back, for emergencies was it? You’re using it real well,” he mused, starting a new game.
“This is an emergency! I listened to my voice message today, and—“
The game blew up again, and Katsuki heaved a sigh. “So you barely slept and hurried over while hungover?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry I sent you a voice message that was a little long—“
“It was 48 minutes.” Katsuki mused, opening the desk drawer to find a pain reliever and throwing it to Hitoshi without turning around.
Hitoshi effortlessly caught and proceeded to swallow it without water, nodding. “Ye-es, so I came to ask you to delete it because you insist on not carrying around a normal phone so I couldn’t just delete it for us both—“
Katsuki swivelled around, levelling a glare at Hitoshi. “You know phones exist to help us? Why would I want some piece of shit that makes my life harder when I can own a phone I can customise exactly for my benefit? Honestly,” he sighed. “You might want to get your brain melted out of your ears, but I don’t.”
Hitoshi looked tired, looking back at Katsuki with a blank face. His hair was mussed, eye bags darker than ever, and even his socks didn’t match. “Okay, and that’s usually really interesting, but if we could stop cutting me off?”
Crossing his leg at the ankle, Katsuki leaned back. “All yours. Take it away, just like yesterday at 4 am.”
“Okay… So you listened to it?” Hitoshi helplessly asked, spreading out his arms. “Look, please, please just delete it.”
“No.” Katsuki crossed his arms. “I won’t,” he added.
Hitoshi’s face did a funny thing, looking like a metaphorical question mark. “But, but why?”
“It was a nice message. I’d like to save it. A memory from my boyfriend.”
“Ex boyfriend,” Hitoshi corrected, face scrunched in pain.
“I never agreed to that? Your reasoning is stupid, too. Don’t forget.”
Katsuki’s voice caused Hitoshi’s head to whip up. His head throbbed and a waterfall of words came pouring out. “How can I forget? You remind me every single day at 6 am. You literally have it scheduled to send every single day. Do you realise I’ve been away for four days and you’ve sent me that same message every single day?” Hitoshi groaned, running his hands through his hair again and messing it up more. “You know what? That doesn’t matter. You can’t just say no, okay? My reason makes sense—“
Katsuki stood up, walking to the bed and towering over Hitoshi, effectively cutting off his train of thought and making his mouth run dry. “That’s why you sent me a message crying about missing me, loving me, wishing you could come home?” Katsuki asked.
Hitoshi swallowed, looking up. His pupils dilated, which caused Katsuki to smirk at him. “I. I didn’t listen that far, okay? It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ll return your key—“
“Our key,” Katsuki interjected, his rough palm cupping Hitoshi’s face. “Come home already, you’re barely sleeping. You hate drinking.”
“You’re unfair,” Hitoshi croaked, a blush staining his cheeks. Katsuki’s hand was warm against his skin, grounding him. He closed his eyes, taking a long breath. “But no. You know that dating me is dangerous, I’m away for long periods of time and we have to hide our relationship to the public. I know it’s difficult for you.”
Hitoshi turned away, biting his lower lip. Katsuki’s hand followed, thumbing his lip until he stopped. “You know I don’t care about any of that,” Katsuki added, voice soft. “Also, who the fuck can take me on?“ he pointed out, canines flashing with a mean smirk on his face. “I literally kick villain ass every single day, do you think my muscles are for show?”
Katsuki pulled away slowly, moving back to the chair and swivelling around. “Fine. We can compromise and listen to it,” Katsuki said, not framed as a compromise.
Hitoshi would have sprung up if he had any energy left. As it was, he groaned for an unnaturally long time and fell in a heap on the bed. “Fine. Fine. Why not? Let’s do that. Why not? Listening party with the top hero Ground Zero,” he muttered to himself. “The explosion hero…” he added, pouting.
Katsuki ignored him, snickering. Navigating to the file he’d downloaded, he hit play. The speakers crackled to life, and he adjusted the sound.
“Katsukiiiiii,” Hitoshi’s rough drawl sounded. “Baby, I miss you, hick hick hick.”
“Did I really say—“
“Oh yeah, you started off with a bang. Hick hick hick,” Katsuki deadpanned.
Hitoshi buried his head under a pillow. “Can we skip forwards?”
“I’m so dimb, I mean dumb. This proves, proves I am dumb! Dum. Imy. Ow. Ow. I walkd into something. Oh it was Kamninari. Kaminari. Why does he have God as part of his first name?”
“Let’s skip forward five minutes,” Katsuki mused. “You spend the time complaining about how dumb Pikachu’s name is, and I agree. But baby, you shouldn’t talk down to yourself.”
Hitoshi sat up, squinting, pillow now clutched. “Did you memorise the minutes? That’s really unfair if so.”
“No? I took notes while listening,” Katsuki explained, speeding forwards. He pointed to the open notebook lying innocently on the desk. “Mm, here,” he mumbled, consulting the page.
“That’s worse,” Hitoshi solemnly added before falling down again, ears red. “What a dork. Dorkish behaviour. Peak dorky dorks,” he babbled.
Katsuki hummed, eyes flicking between a notepad and the screen. “Oh, my favourite part is coming up. You talked about cheese for 20 minutes straight with no breaks. It’s so sweet.”
Hitoshi tried to kick his chair but was too far away. “How can you have a favourite part,” he grumbled. “Top hero Ground Zero horrifies the nation,” he added, mumbling pointlessly to himself. “Top hero Ground Zero destroys innocent civilian.”
“Is the innocent civilian in the room with us?” Katsuki hummed, clicking play without waiting for a reply.
“Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, Kat. I miss you so muchhhh. You don’t- don’t understand. It’s, like cheese alright? Exactly like cheese. You know how I like my cheese? People say I like my cheese mild and creamy and tasteless. Those people are lying liars who lie. Their habit is lying because they— ok you get it. I like my cheese mild, with a hint of, of something that cheese has. Nutty? I guess? And not overly creamy or soft, unless it’s that one brand with the—, the whatever. So I went to the store, because stupid, stupid me made the worst mistake of my life by leaving you and—“
Katsuki paused it. “Again: don’t talk down to yourself, but yes it’s a mistake so just stop actively making it.”
Hitoshi stayed suspiciously silent.
“— I have to do my own food shopping alone now and I have been eating literal garbage. Just frozen pizza and crying and no energy but I thought I’d try, try. It’s like I left you and all the taste in the world just stayed with you, right where I left my heart. I knew it was a mistake before, during and after I left and I still did it. You know, while living with my stupid choice, I went to buy cheese? So I’d be sad but have cheese and get some healthy fat in me. Is cheese healthy fat? See, if you were here you’d tell me and you wouldn’t laugh at me. Anyway, so I saw one that was called, like, Greta, and it said it was mild, sweet, with a hint of … nuttiness? And that it fit perfect on a char—, charceuto—, uh the snack board thing, and on sandwiches. It had been, like, matured for six months? And I made sandwiches with it and ate so many slices too and it was so good, it was just perfect. First real meal after two weeks. But then some idiot asked why that cheese, why not another, one that’s not perfect for the board thingy and sandwiches, or one that has been matured longer, or one that picks a side, like either sweet or nutty? And it made me so so so mad. What. What? So because there’s other cheeses that have been stored for like, a year, Greta doesn’t count? Because she’s perfect for everything and her profile taste works for everyone, she shouldn’t get picked and—“
There was sniffling sounds coming from the speakers, before full on crying started. Katsuki sped forwards in five second increments and Hitoshi had to hear his own varying levels of crying echoing back to him. His face was burning.
“—and you’re just like that cheese, just like Greta. You know Greta is commonly a Swedish name? And how you’re really blond and people think you might be Russian, but I think you’re part Swedish, but your parents insist you’re fully Japanese and all this just. It connects everything. You’re just like Greta, vaguely Swedish and your hair is the same colour as the cheese too, and you’re both perfect and I just. I chose the cheese but I left you, the overachieving cheese of my life, who’s always perfect just for me and, okay maybe you didn’t get matured for six months or whatever, but it made me think like. I’m a hypocrite? I don’t deserve Greta, I’ll probably leave her too. I can’t commit and I’m scared you’ll leave and that I’m secretly making you unhappy and that you belong with like, Midoriya or something—“
“We’ll talk about your issues later, but baby, you’re killing me here,” Katsuki said, briefly pausing the recording again, squinting at him over his shoulder. “Also. Izuku? I should go back to bullying him. In fact, I should do a better job this time around. This is what I get for having a redemption arc?” he grouched before hitting play again, turning around with a pout. “What bullshit.”
“I left you, I left you in that store. I mean I didn’t but like metaphorically. I saw perfect Greta and I had the taste of the best cheese of my life and I left it, I mean I finished eating all of Greta in like two nights but like, metaphorically! And it made me so sad, because everyone is just out here picking like, Gouda or Brie, and who picks Greta? Who was she made for and did they appreciate her? Because I didn’t. Fuck. I told you to trust me with your heart and I just, I’m just stupid like everyone else. There’s no one else for me, you’re it. You’re—you’re my cheese.”
Katsuki paused the recording once more as silent crying had started to sound from the speakers, with hitched breathing and wet gasping sounds. He wiped his eyes, which were faintly red. “You really don’t do things by halves, huh?” Katsuki mused, voice wobbly.
At this point Hitoshi was just a splotch in the bed, his face had gradually gotten more and more red and now he looked like a stop sign. “Can we stop the listening party now,” he asked, eyes closed. “Hashtag stop bullying Hitoshi 2k26,” he chirped.
“Don’t say that,” Katsuki said, standing up and walking over. He sat down next to the Hitoshi-shaped figure. “So?”
“So?” Hitoshi parroted, sitting up and staring. “So what?”
Katsuki nudged him with his shoulder. “So since you do carry my heart and I’m it for you, will you stop crashing at your agency and come home?”
“… fine.” Hitoshi answered, leaning against Katsuki. “But I won’t apologise for leaving. I thought it would make you happier. I’m dumb—“
“You are not! Stop saying that,” Katsuki hissed, large hand cupping Hitoshi’s face and shaking him gently. “And you should apologise, not for your feelings, but for unilaterally deciding something without discussing it with me first and jumping to some crazy conclusions by yourself and taking drastic action. As in moving out. The very same night. Without consulting me.”
Hitoshi tried to turn away, but Katsuki wouldn’t let him, holding strong. “And maybe I should apologise, for making you believe I could ever be without you?” Katsuki continued. “Because I had to have done something, right, to ever make you believe—“ his voice shook, pain evident in his face.
“No!” Hitoshi yelled, surging forwards and almost knocking into Katsuki. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong, Kat, it was all me, okay? I’m sorry,” he covered Katsuki’s hand with his own, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. I should, talk more. I guess. About things…”
Katsuki hummed, quirking a brow. “Mm, we both should. I know you’re protecting me and refusing to let me take any responsibility, and maybe I didn’t give you your insecurities nor feed in to them — but I should still lift you up and make your confidence better, right? You can agree to that, right?”
“… right,” Hitoshi murmured helplessly, holding Katsuki’s intense eye contact. He was rapidly being pulled into Katsuki’s orbit, his whole body facing him, hands reaching for him, eyes following him. Hitoshi lost whatever willpower and determination the moment he came home. He couldn’t resist at all.
“So if anything I did or didn’t do makes you feel uncertain, makes you wonder if I’d be better off without you, makes you think I should be with someone else — that’s something we should discuss. Okay? Baby?” Katsuki searched Hitoshi’s face, looking at his reaction.
“… ye-es,” Hitoshi agreed, voice dreamy.
Katsuki watched him with a fond smile, and Hitoshi felt his heart in his throat, butterflies in his stomach, the whole carnival dancing across his vertebrae. What did he do to deserve—
“Also, you stink. Go shower. I can’t believe you’ve been eating like a trash goblin, did you think you’d get away with that?“ Katsuki said, standing up. He ran his hands through Hitoshi’s hair, leaving the strands in even bigger disarray, laughing at the flat look he got in return. “I have to change the sheets. Hurry up,” he commanded.
“Fine, ugh.”
“Don’t you mean fine, hick hick h—“
Hitoshi tried to pounce, baring his teeth in a joking manner, but was pushed down. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing,” Katsuki laughed, walking away. His shoulders were shaking as he opened the door.
Hitoshi was left lying in a heap. “Never meet your idols,” he harrumphed, but a smile was tugging on his lips. “Happy wife happy life,” he sighed happily, closing his eyes when he could no longer see Katsuki’s silhouette.
In a minute, he’d get up. He’d shower, steal Katsuki’s clothes and go out to hug his boyfriend, who by the sounds from the kitchen is most likely making him his favourite meal.
Just, in a minute.
Later:
“This is Greta?” Katsuki pondered, scrolling on his phone with his pointer finger. “Hm.”