Work Text:
“Bye, Katsuki, have a good day!”
----
Not even the sound of the low level villain’s collarbone snapping under the force of his combat boot was enough to drown out the echo of her voice in his head. Half in a daze, fully lost in his thoughts, he handed off the cuffed man, spitting and cursing Katsuki’s hero name, without so much as a smirk to the law enforcement offers who had once again been too slow to even try and “help” him. Losers. A flash of pink nearly caught his eye, but it was too vibrant, too acidic. The shade was all wrong. Like everything else on this decidedly not good day, it all just felt one degree to the left side of right and it was fuckin' irritating to say the least. What the fuck had she meant by that, anyway? Why would she have said—
[Katsukii]
The sound of his name over the comms, his stupid, useless, unnecessary given name, had him nearly growling. What the fuck was even the point of that name. He could have just been named "Bakugo" and that would have been fucking fine. He already had a hero name and a family name, why would he even need a given name? He should just get rid of it. Yeah, just legally fully remove it from his identity. That way no one could ever call him-
[KATSUKI!]
“I told you fuckers not to call me that.”
[Damn, babe, who pissed in your protein shake this morning?]
Wrong pet name. Wrong person. Katsuki crossed his arm over his chest, stretching his shoulder until something slipped back into place with a satisfying pop. He wished he could do the same thing with his brain. The nerves that had frazzled this morning had decidedly not improved throughout the day. He could hear that last thread he was hanging by start to sizzle and burn with the irritated crackle in his palms.
“Pinky. What. Do. You. Want.”
The roll of her dark raccoon eyes was audible. [Geeze, grumpy, I just wanted to make sure you and my babygirl were still coming over for dinner tonight.]
Her babygirl. The muscles in his jaw feathered as he bit out what he hoped wasn’t a lie. “Yeah, of course. Tell Shitty Hair we’ll be there for seven and we’re bringing better wine than whatever slop he keeps in the house.” As long as she wasn't about to fuckin' dump his ass. He swallowed hard.
Her laugh had his nerves pulsing under his skin, his head starting to throb in time. [Such a dick. You’re welcome for the assist by the way. Okay, see you then!]
“Didn't need it. This isn’t what coms are supposed to be used for anyway so fuck off.”
The line went dead with the echo of a final unbothered laugh and Katsuki was left alone in the vortex of angry confusion that was his own thoughts as he blasted his way across the sky. He couldn't even go home and confront her yet. Her shift wasn't over for another two hours and he still had paperwork to do before he could clock out. Paperwork where he'd sign his stupid fucking given name over and over again. And as soon as he was finished that, he was starting the very necessary paperwork to become just "Bakugo". D list fuckass Americans did it all the time, after all. And then, the end of his shift would come and he could go home to Cheeks and demand she explain herself. Because she’d ….. she’d called him fuckin’ Katsuki of all things. What could have possessed her? What could he possibly have done to-
Katsuki froze mid-air, nearly dropping from the sky before hurriedly releasing two rapid blasts to propel him up and forward again.
No, no, he hadn't done anything, had he? He hadn’t missed her birthday, they’d had a full day booked at a spa, with couples massages, and a very happy ending for her (for both of them, really). He hadn’t missed Valentine’s Day or White Day, or even his own birthday because he knew she loved to celebrate him more than he liked it for himself. Their anniversary was still two months away, so what. What could he have done for her to call him .... that. He should have just asked her this morning, He could have called or texted her at any point throughout the day, she always replied to him or called him back the moment she had a spare minute. Hell, it was Cheeks who confidently answered reporters questions about how they made it work with their 'clear, consistent communication'.
At this point, the soft encouraging sound of her mantra was as familiar as the sound of his own voice in his head.
"The only problem we can't tackle is the one you won't tell me exists."
He could have asked her at any point today. He should have. She would have answered him honestly, she always did. But that was the problem, wasn't it? What if Katsuki didn't like her answer? what if she really was distancing herself in preparation to make a clean break? Just because Katsuki lacked most basic social skills didn't mean he lacked the even more basic understanding of the stages of getting dumped. It was just... this would be the first time it would break his fucking heart.
Hunched over his desk, he let out a heavy breath as he put the final signature on his last report. All the offensive characters that made up Bakugo Katsuki. He scowled at the shiny ink like it had personally called him by one of the less-kind nicknames he had given his former classmates. His fist darted out, smudging the nearly-dry signature so that only the 'Bakugo' was legible, scowling fiercely. If he never saw- or heard- his stupid given name again it would be too soon. And Floaty had said it so casually! Like she just went around saying his fuckin’ name all the time or something!
This wasn't fuckin' fair. He'd spent all day in a tail spin and yeah he could have texted her but she coulda reached out, too! She had to know how much hearing her say his name like that would agitate (confuse) and irritate (concern) him. But she would never do that on purpose! Right? Unless... fuck. Unless she was actually thinking about dumping him. It hurt just to voice the concept in his head. Katsuki rubbed absently at his chest, a pain under his sternum pulling down the corners of his mouth into a frown. If Cheeks was .... if Cheeks was really cutting him loose he deserved for her to tell him to his face. He... well he didn't deserve to be dumped in the first place! He was a good boyfriend! The fucking best! He'd be damned if anyone would love her more than he did and she knew that! She knew that ... right?
His hand flexed at his side as he willed the sparks to subside. The moment he got back to the apartment he'd make her- No. No one made that girl do anything. An unwilling smile flitted across his face as he shook his head a little. That girl did absolutely everything she wanted and nothing she didn't. Fuck he loved her for it. Katsuki took a steadying breath. He'd ask her to sit down and talk to him first. If she was willing. With fresh flowers. The bouquet from last week’s farmer’s market was starting to look questionable anyway. And maybe if he was already stopping for flowers he’d grab mochi, too. Just to be safe.
Wiping his hands on his civie pants for the third time since arriving at their front door, Katsuki almost raised his fist to knock. To knock? On his own fucking front door? Jesus Christ. He ran it through his already-mussed hair instead, blowing out a breath. This was fine. This was all fine. He just needed to ask some clarifying questions and speak with her calmly and be an adult boyfriend in an adult relationship and beg forgiveness before she broke up with him, that’s all. Clear, consistent communication. He could do this. He could play it cool. He wasn’t about to just—
“DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ THINK YOU CAN JUST DUMP ME AND WALK AWAY WITHOUT A BACKWARDS GLANCE WHEN YOU KNOW FULL WELL I LOVE YOU AND I’LL NEVER LOVE ANO—“
“Baby?” The soft chirp of her voice stopped him from the tirade he’d expressly told himself not to go on the moment he opened the door to their place.
The remnants of soft evening sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the living room and kitchen, gilding her edges in gold as she poked her head around the corner from where their bathroom was, where she’d obviously been getting ready for tonight. A fluffy headband with a pink bow wrapped around her head, holding her hair back while she applied the minimal makeup she wore that he always insisted she didn’t need. Wide doe eyes pinned him in place, cautiously confused as she padded towards him.
Air escaped his chest in a rush as he dropped his head and held out the flowers and mochi. “At least tell me what I did wrong first?”
Callused fingertips pried the offerings from his hands and set them on the entryway table as she stepped into his space, wrapping her arms around his middle to peer up into his face. “What do you mean, handsome, what did you do? What happened?”
He shifted sulkily, wrapping his arms around her, too, burying his face into her hair with a deep inhale.
“I dunno.” His voice came out muffled and petulant. “You musta been mad at me this morning or something. Or planning on dumping me or whatever.” He hugged her in tighter. “Think I deserve an explanation at least.”
She leaned back in his arms looking up at him with a half amused grin pulling at the corners of her soft mouth. Fuck he’d miss kissing that mouth.
“I’m confused. Did I tell you I was mad at you?”
“…… No.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And usually, if I’m mad, what do I tell you?”
“You tell me ‘Baby, I’m mad at you.’ And then you tell me why.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. And why do I do that?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, “Because I have the reading level of a child when it comes to reading the room and it’s better if you just tell me things.”
She nodded again, sagely. “That’s absolutely correct.” Cocking her head to one side she prodded again. “So why do you think I’m mad at you or want to break up with you?”
And suddenly it felt pretty stupid to say out loud.
“You called me ‘Katsuki’ before I left.”
He could practically feel the giggles she was holding in, vibrating through her skin like silent sound waves. The tips of his ears turned red as her hands unwound themselves from behind his back and instead cupped either side of his face.
“So you were worried I was mad or unhappy in our relationship because I called you by your given name, do I understand correctly?”
“Well, yeah!” He spoke vehemently while moving as little as possible, trying to stay upright when all he wanted to do was melt into her touch. “I haven’t been ‘Katsuki’ in over a year! To you I’m always ‘Baby’ or ‘Handsome’ or ‘Hotstuff’ or "Honey'." He trailed off sullenly. "....It was fucked up.”
Her laugh was light, sweet, and he felt something in his chest sparkle a little at the sound. “But you call me ‘Ochako’ and I never think I’m in trouble.”
“Duh. Grew up calling you ‘Cheeks’, didn’t I? Calling you by your name has the same feeling as calling you ‘Angel’, and ‘Beautiful’.”
The small, strong hands on either side of his face drew him down to her, pressing their foreheads together as she smiled at him. And fuck he was a sucker for her, inhaling the strawberry-scented lotion she put on after every shower.
“Okay. So then I’ll only call you ‘Baby’,” she kissed his forehead, “or ‘Handsome’,” she kissed the tip of his nose, “or Hotstuff,” she kissed the apple of his cheek, "or Honey," she paused just before kissing his lips, giggling lightly as he leaned forward for it. “And also sometimes ’Sir’.”
Katsuki felt a sparkling in his blood again, this time much lower than his chest as he growled for a moment before catching her mouth against his own. She was like hot honey on his tongue, sweet with a little kick. He allowed his body to finally sink into her arms a little more as he pinched the deliciously ample cheeks of her backside and smirked into the kiss as she squeaked.
“That last one better be for my ears alone, Brat.”
She sighed against his mouth happily. “So many nicknames, so many rules,” she teased.
He ran his hands up and down her spine, taking in her dreamy expression, the pliant way she leaned up against him, her soft little smirk, and almost felt better. But clear communication was their whole thing, right? Couldn’t hurt to clarify.
“You still like me, right?”
She focused on him and the earnestness in his voice, her gaze sharpening into seriousness as she ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, Baby.”
“You still think I’m a good boyfriend for you?”
“Yes, Handsome.”
"You still think we make a good team?"
"Yes, Hotstuff."
“You still want me?”
“Yes, Honey.”
He nuzzled against her neck, nosing his way up to the shell of her ear. “You wanna be a little late to dinner?”
She breathed out with a soft groan, “Yes, Sir.”