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“No, idiot. I said sunflowers, not marigolds.” Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sighed, trying not to reach through the phone and strangle his best man. “How the hell did you get those two mixed up?”
“We were in the middle of stopping a villain when you told me!” Kirishima had no understanding on how to multi-task, apparently. “How was I supposed to remember wedding flowers when I was trying not to become a piece of Swiss cheese?”
“Cause I thought you had more than six brain cells,” Katsuki replied, eyes closing to fight back his growing headache. He was getting a lot more of those lately. “Look, just give me the number and I’ll call to fix the order.”
“Hey, don’t take my best-man responsibilities away.”
“Ugh, I shouldn’t have given it to you in the first place.”
The only reason he had was because of the nerd who stole his heart without remorse. Izuku, after getting down on one knee and popping the question, had made him swear not to go ‘too extreme’ with their wedding. Originally, Katsuki had scoffed at the idea. Why would he make a big deal about a stupid ceremony? All he cared about was Izuku being his, and vice versa.
But then he started thinking about it; Izuku, with all the people the nerd cared about, teary-eyed and vowing to stay by Katsuki’s side for the rest of their lives. And when it came to capturing that moment, Katsuki realized he didn’t want some half-baked plan that any loser could put together. For Izuku, it had to be perfect. The kind of wedding that people would still be talking about when they were on their honeymoon.
Didn’t Katsuki owe it to him to make it a little romantic? He caught how Izuku always slowed his pace if that bakery had a new wedding cake on display. How his face lit up whenever he got to tell their friends and family about how he proposed. The slight blush that dusted his cheeks each time their fingers intertwined, rings nudging together. Katsuki wasn’t gonna wear a dress or toss a bouquet, but he would make sure Izuku got the wedding he deserved.
And so he had recruited their wedding party on both sides. Made spreadsheets and calendars that would make any wedding planner jealous. When he wasn’t shoving villains into the pavement, he was comparing photographers Jirou looked up or making appointments for venue tours. Izuku tried to offer his help, but Katsuki shut him down, telling him to focus on his grading or fixing his suit. His fiancée (the word rarely left his mouth, but circled in his mind several times a day) would chuckle, bending over to kiss some part of Katsuki’s face before leaving to follow the order.
But with the wedding only a month away, he wondered if he’d made a mistake.
“You better send me a screenshot of an email confirming you fixed this, or I will come to your house and blow up all your hair products.”
“Not my dye, that’s expensive!” Kirishima went quiet after his plea, though Katsuki could practically hear his brain steaming on the other side of the phone. “Hey, are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki asked, looking at the computer sitting on his lap with a scowl. The screen’s brightness stung his eyes from how long he’d been working on the to-do list, a swell of anxiety shoved down before it could grow. “I blew up All For One after having open-heart surgery on the battlefield. A wedding ain’t nothing.”
“This is just as important, buddy. It’s you and Izuku’s big day.” He pretended not to hear Kirishima’s obvious concern, staying silent while clicking the check marks on the task he’d completed that morning. “Does he know you’re having nightmares again?”
“That’s not his problem,” he snapped out, heavy fingers slamming over his keys. “And it’s not like I’ve got time to sleep until after the wedding.”
Kirishima sighed. “That’s not really a solution.”
“What are you, my mother?” Before Kirishima could answer the rhetorical question, Katsuki dragged the conversation back to the original problem. “Can you fix the flowers or not?”
“Yeah. But seriously, I think you should talk to—”
Katsuki’s ear caught the front door opening, cutting his best man off. “Gotta go. E-mail me when you’ve got the confirmation.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before he hung up, shoving the laptop to the side before pushing off the couch. Ignoring the heaviness of his tired limbs, Katsuki moved through the house to greet his noisy counterpart. His shoulder leaned against the corner of the hallway while he crossed his arms, his earlier irritation fading when seeing his favorite person fumbling to kick off his shoes. Time had been kind to Izuku, letting him keep his firm physique despite taking his earned quirk. Even as they got older, the freckled face stayed young, fooling people into thinking he was innocent. But beneath his kind smile and enormous heart, Izuku was a gremlin.
One that Katsuki planned to tie himself to in a month.
For now, he scoffed. “Twenty-seven years old, and you still can’t organize your shoes.”
“Kacchan!” Izuku quickly looked up at him, face brightening like the sun. “I’m home.”
“Obviously, I can see that.” Despite his grouchy reply, Katsuki felt his ears burn while glancing away. “Welcome home.”
Rough hands found his cheeks, turning his face back before warm lips captured his. Sometimes, Katsuki forgot how much bolder Izuku had gotten since he proposed. The kiss tasted like the mints Izuku kept in his desk, but Katsuki accepted the overly sweet flavor to linger in the warmth of Izuku’s affection. The earlier fatigue and stress didn’t vanish, but settled somewhere lower in his skull as he cupped Izuku’s nape. Izuku’s hum of contentment and big hands cupping his waist proved his fiancée had missed Katsuki. And, despite his best efforts to claim he was doing fine, being in Izuku’s warm embrace smoothed some of his stressed edges.
He hummed when Izuku pulled away, dropping another quick peck (like he couldn’t get enough of Katsuki’s taste) before nuzzling their noses together. “How was work?”
“Horrible.” But he didn’t want to linger in the negative space. Instead, Katsuki wrapped his arms fully around Izuku’s neck, leaning against his chest. “What about the gremlins? Did they convince you to finally quit that lame school?”
“We both went there,” Izuku replied, lips finding a new home on Katsuki’s scarred cheek. Kissing the old wound, his nerdy fiancée mumbled his next words over the warm skin. “The students were wonderful. Everyone’s picking out their internships, so they’re on their best behavior.”
Katsuki closed his eyes, melting into the soft affection. “How many of the extras did you rope into taking on your brats?”
“Most volunteered.” Finally done with his display of admiration, Izuku pulled away, squeezing his waist. But a second later, Izuku’s smile dimmed, concern flickering in the green gaze. “Work really took it out of you, huh?”
“I’m fine.” He tried to brush off the worry, but when he moved to leave, Izuku’s hand moved up to cup his jaw. Gently, he was led back to look at Izuku, who shook his head after a second assessment.
“Sweetheart.” Despite his best efforts, Katsuki felt his ears heat from the petname.
“You’re so nosy,” he muttered, but didn’t move away from the thumb tracing his cheek.
“It’s because you’re important to me.” When Katsuki only huffed, Izuku eased into the voice he knew his fiancée used with his students. “And you know it’s okay if you’re not fine, right? I’d rather know now when it’s a small problem than find out when it’s already hurt you.”
If he was a decade younger, with a chip the size of Japan on his shoulder, maybe he would have scoffed and shut Izuku down again. But that brat had learned shoving Izuku’s hand away only made him more miserable. Now, staring at the patient man waiting for him to answer, Katsuki’s tense body relaxed. Izuku had picked him to be his forever. He’d seen Katsuki at his worst , watched him fall from the highest pedestal, and still looked at him like he hung the moon.
Wasn’t that a part of being married? To be there, for better or for worse?
“The nightmares came back.” Katsuki took a slow breath when Izuku’s thumb stopped moving, knowing the topic wasn’t a solo problem.
Izuku had his own demons that came out at night, trying to ruin all the progress he’d made. They’d done the work, both alone and together, to accept the choices they made to survive. Their own journeys crossed, but they didn’t have identical paths. Katsuki died for a war he didn’t start, brought back by sheer luck. Izuku killed the person he swore to save, despite being a mere child. Both had fallen and receded in their progress, felt guilt and shame despite professionals telling them it was normal. The only reason they’d made it through was their unwavering faith in each other.
So he should have expected Izuku’s understanding hum, the hand on his waist leading him out of the entrance way. “Sludge monster, the kidnapping, or the war?”
“Depends on the night.” There was one Izuku didn’t mention, though he knew that was Katsuki’s fault. The fourth wasn’t a memory, but a fear. One that revolved around Izuku never forgiving him, choosing to live his life with someone more worthy. Closing his eyes, Katsuki leaned his forehead onto Izuku’s shoulder and let out a shaky breath. “Sometimes they even mush together.”
“My overachiever,” Izuku teased, keeping the mood light for Katsuki’s sake.
When they were still young and still feeling out their relationship, soothing each other in vulnerable moments rarely went well. Izuku became frantic in his need to support Katsuki, which made him blow up and avoid his nerd. It’d taken him a while to realize Katsuki craved normalization, not coddling, about his deep feelings.
“Do I get a gold star, Sensei?” Katsuki asked, noticing Izuku was swaying them despite no music playing.
In return, Izuku reached back to grab one of Katsuki’s hands from around his neck, lacing their fingers together in their silent dance. “How about a long shower and some cuddling with your tired fiancée?”
“Can’t.” The word contradicted the fatigue pushing his body to lean into Izuku’s safe hold. “Gotta go through the wedding invites sheet to make sure I put everyone who responded at a table. And I never responded to the DJ about the music for the reception entrance. Shit, did I even update the caterer about your mom’s request for a gluten-free dressing for the salad bar? Stupid villain crashing my lunch break–”
“I’ll do it.” Slowly, Katsuki lifted his head, greeted with Izuku’s earnest smile. “It’s just comparing an invite list to your sheet, right? You can lie on my chest while I do it, so you can pass out whenever you want. I send emails all the time at my job, so I can check-in with the DJ. The caterer is probably closed by now, or at some evening event. I’m pretty sure I can call him when Aizawa takes my kids for their training session.”
“But these aren’t your problems,” Katsuki blurted out, scowling when Izuku only blinked in confusion. “I promised I’d give you the wedding you deserved. That means you don’t do any of this shit. It’s supposed to be your perfect day.”
“Oh, Kacchan.” Izuku kissed him again, pausing their swaying to fully taste Katsuki. Confused, but never one to turn down a passionate exchange, Katsuki kissed back, grumbling his protest when Izuku broke it off earlier than he wanted. He opened his eyes, ready to give his formal complaint, but Izuku cut him off. “I’ve already told you that I don’t need anything over the top for our wedding.”
“Except I see you making heart eyes at all the romantic stuff, and I know your heart’s eight times bigger than your body,” Katsuki replied, Izuku laughing before cupping his face in his palms.
“Admiring something and needing it are two very different things. I want our people to have fun, and the memory of the day to be something to look back on fondly.” Of course Izuku would think about their guests before himself. “But the only thing I need for it to be perfect is you there, stress-free and happy to be mine.”
“You’re so gross.” Even as he complained, Katsuki’s heart squeezed with the threat of bursting again from his affection.
Izuku didn’t take offense. He rubbed his thumb under Katsuki’s eye, where he knew dark rings had formed. “Stress can be a big factor in causing your nightmares to come back. Our wedding is supposed to be fun for both of us. I don’t want you to feel you have to do this on your own. We’re a team. Win to save, and save to win, remember?”
“That’s for villains, not catering issues.” But the stupid line made him chuckle, which made Izuku perk up like a dog.
“Same difference.” Izuku slowly tugged Katsuki with him down the hall toward their bedroom. “So, will you take a shower and get some sleep? Maybe write down some stuff I can do for the wedding?”
“Gonna write it on a sticky-note and glue it to your forehead,” Katsuki answered, looking down at their linked hands.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Izuku stopped them just outside their bedroom, turning to offer his soft smile. “I love you, Kacchan. I can’t wait to be your husband.”
“Sappy Nerd.” Katsuki moved to hide his face against Izuku’s neck, his free hand grabbing the bottom of the other’s shirt. “And… same, obviously.”
“I know.” Izuku kissed his temple, not pressing for Katsuki to say it out loud. Most days, Katsuki could respond with words, and had gotten good with knocking Izuku’s socks off. But some days, when he was emotionally drained or vulnerable, he couldn’t get past his old barriers. Izuku, thankfully, never took it as rejection or a change of heart. Izuku always saw Katsuki for what he meant over what he said.
And that was the best part of marrying his best friend.
“Whatever.” Gathering his strength, Katsuki wiggled away, pushing Izuku into the room. “Let me set you up on my laptop while the shower heats up. If I come back and you’ve fucked up my seating chart, I’ll divorce you.”
“What?! But we’re not even married yet!” When Katsuki only shrugged and walked past him, Izuku let out a whine and quickly followed. “Hey, don’t plan to leave me before we even say our vows.”
“A hero never goes into battle without a plan.”
“A battle–Kacchan!” Izuku shouted, Katsuki cackling like a villain.
Hours later, Katsuki passed out on Izuku’s chest, falling asleep with a strong hand combing through his hair.
And like the hero he was, Izuku kept all Katsuki’s nightmares away.