Work Text:
Bento, with love
Living with Bakugou was something Shouto didn't know would come with so many perks. Everyday is a new adventure in itself that Shouto has come to love and cherish.
A two-way system that works for them. In the way Bakugou loves cooking and Shouto loves watching him cook and their living arrangement allows him the front row seat for it.
One might think just watching someone do their thing gets boring eventually but that's not true at all. Shouto has had instances where he was nearly late to his shift just because he got too absorbed in his 'chef Bakugou staring' ritual.
He tries not to overdo it now even though Bakugou himself has never really objected to it. The only thing that he protests about is Shouto stepping anywhere near the stove. The zone beyond the small kitchen table is off limits, Shouto's free to stare as long as he doesn't cross it. Sometimes he gets taste testing privileges too.
"Oi, open up."
Like right now.
"Oh, it's good," Shouto smacks his lips.
"Yeah? Neat."
Eventually Bakugou sets his plate on the table; breakfast's a simple omelette and not what Bakugou made him taste just now, which means—
Shouto watches as Bakugou meticulously prepares a bento. Arranging its contents nicely before closing the lid and wrapping it in a cloth. The omelette tastes bland compared to the curry that he can still taste in his mouth. A bitter feeling.
He goes off to his patrol.
The next day, Shouto's routine and mood both are busted as there are no hot blonds cooking at home to look at. What stares right back at him is that offensive bento placed beside the stove. Again. So Shouto doesn't get to be near it but the bento does? Rude.
Shouto does not pout, he does not but Bakugou left early today and Shouto didn't even get to see him off.
And he didn't forget to make the bento even though he had an early shift, his traitorous brain supplies.
Bakugou must've been in a hurry that he forgot to take it, maybe Shouto can bring it to him? He'll get to see Bakugou this way and also get to know who it is for. Lucky person. Getting Bakugou's home cooked meals.
Well, Bakugou cooks for Shouto too but this person has Bakugou willingly make bento boxes for them so they must be special. More special than him apparently. The thought is selfish but Shouto wants to know what it'd be like to be special to Bakugou too.
He forces himself to freshen up and leave soon. As he flicks on the light switch he's greeted with his reflection in the mirror and a short note in orange, right above the corner with the partially erased marks of little hangman games and tic-tac-toes played on the mirror with an EXPO marker.
Don't forget to take the bento this time idiot. How the fuck do you forget them everyday?!
Shouto has to reread it a few times to realize it's written for him, which, of course it is. It makes sense now.
Today, the bento is not forgotten.
When he gets back Bakugou is already home.
"Welcome back—mmph."
Shouto doesn't let him go even after the other's protests, instead he hugs him tighter and hides his face in the crook of his neck. Bakugou eventually yields and holds him back, pats his head once, twice.
Shouto smiles into his warm skin.
"Thanks for the bento."
Bakugou stills and there's a pinch to his side that has Shouto jumping slightly.
"How could you forget them for half a week, hah? I made those in front of you!"
"I didn't know they were for me," Shouto confesses truthfully and Bakugou's expression turns even more incredulous.
"Who the fuck else would they be for? It's your ass that got a stomach ache after eating shitty street food at patrol for breakfast."
"Oh." Bakugou still remembered?
Shouto is happy even as he gets flicked on the forehead.
"You better not leave them home now. Go shower."
"I won't, now I know they're for me."
Shouto catches a hint of a lopsided smirk as Bakugou turns.
"Fuckin' 'course they are." For you goes unsaid.
Tacit talks
If Katsuki’s honest, asking Icyhot to live with him post-graduation is the best decision he’s ever made, one he still stands by to this day.
It just made the most sense. He and Todoroki both got jobs at the same agency for one, and apartments this close to downtown are pricey as shit so splitting rent is the way to go. From their years at UA Katsuki knows that Todoroki likes to keep his shit neat and tidy, likes having certain schedules to stick to, and also values his alone time and can keep to himself, just like Katsuki.
It was all just solid decision making on his part. Besides, even though they had a rough start when they first met, over the years he’s come to actually enjoy his company. Todoroki’s fucking fun, head-empty and annoying as shit, sure, but he knows how to take anything that Katsuki throws at him and gives it right back, and Katsuki has no problem indulging his stupid whims ‘coz it also means he gets to secretly indulge in his own stupid whims.
He was reluctant at first but hell he’s grown enough to say it now: Todoroki’s goddamn friendship scheme worked on him. And fuck it, yeah they’re close now. And whatever gap remains just continues to narrow and Katsuki’s not planning to put a stop to it any time soon.
It feels…natural, the way they’ve been drifting closer together over the years. The only next logical step in this new chapter as Pros was to be roommates.
But that doesn’t mean shit’s perfect. Todoroki’s proven to be a terrific roommate for the past two months now, he has, but there’s also no denying the facts: he’s a stubborn bastard and a petty asshole.
Here’s another fun fact: so is Katsuki.
So as natural as everything else has been leading up to this point, so was this, and it was only a matter of time before something came up and triggered a fight.
They were doing fine, great even, up until the bastard decided he needed to be more helpful. Katsuki never had any issues with how they split their chores and responsibilities. They have a system and it works; Katsuki does basically all the cooking but Todoroki makes up for that by taking care of the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, and everything else they split evenly between them.
But then Todoroki had to try and help out with laundry last week when Katsuki’s schedule had been a shitshow. He knows it was a nice gesture, but it was pretty embarrassing to walk into his press meeting the next day with his only white shirt now turned fucking pink.
The same incident had turned his favorite band T-shirt into a goddamn crop top too, and while he knows he still looks hot as shit in it, he liked it as it was.
And then two days ago he’d used Katsuki’s hair gel when his own ran out, which wasn’t the issue; they share a bathroom and they often shared that stuff. But he didn’t put it back where it was supposed to go: on Katsuki’s shelf, right between the bottle of mouthwash and his deodorant. Not on the coffee table in the living room.
Something probably came up so he let it slide. Maybe a phone call when he was in the middle of doing his hair. Something. So, Katsuki had put it back and he’d let it go.
But then this morning happened.
Cooking was his thing, they both shook on it. And if Todoroki wanted to cook, that was fine, and he uses his own shit for that. But apparently whatever he was making while Katsuki was on his early shift required Katsuki’s super special, super expensive cast-iron skillet Deku and Ei got him last Christmas.
Todoroki used it. Okay, fine, that’s not really the problem. The problem is that he left it to soak in the sink before leaving for work. To soak. And combined with the week he’s had at work that was the tipping point for him. He’d snapped.
The moment Todoroki returned from his own later shift, Katsuki went off on him, possibly a little more aggressive and angry than reasonable.
But to his credit Todoroki isn’t the type to let him get away with being a total asshole, especially after he’d tried to apologize to Katsuki, so he’d said his own shit back.
And with both of them tired from the workday, they’d stomped off to their own rooms without really resolving much, just two stubborn, petty bastards.
And now Katsuki’s here, lying in his bed and unable to fall asleep because now that he’s mostly calmed down and has done some thinking he feels shitty. He really was meaner than he needed to be; it was an accident after all.
It’s fucking ridiculous how quickly his anger and frustration seem to fizzle out when it comes to the half ‘n half bastard. There’s always a swell of–of affection, a fondness that seems to over-power it and he’s not really sure what to make of it. Feelings aside, he can’t be mad ‘coz at the end of the day Todoroki’s always just try’na be nice, good. Especially to him, which has him circling back to the whole feelings business. God.
His brain is playing various scenarios and ideas on how to potentially confront Todoroki tomorrow to talk, to fucking apologize, when he hears the telltale squeak of their bathroom door.
Katsuki listens like a weirdo, oddly comforted by the fact that Todoroki’s also sleepless after their fight.
The door squeaks closed again after a few minutes and Katsuki waits a moment before throwing the covers off himself and slipping out of bed, quietly padding to his bedroom door and pulling it open.
He peeks out and down the hall to see that Todoroki’s door is closed again.
Katsuki takes in a breath and steps out into the hallway, swallowing his pride and gathering the courage to knock so that he can apologize or whatever so that they can both go the fuck to sleep in peace.
But fuck, talking has never been either of their strong suits and it isn’t any easier now of all times.
So, maybe–maybe he’ll just…
Katsuki turns and shuffles down the other way and heads to their bathroom, quietly pushing open the door and turning on the lights, wasting no time in grabbing the orange EXPO marker he has in his toothbrush holder and pops it open to write on the mirror.
But he comes to a halt when he sees that something’s already written in their usual corner in blue.
I’m v sorry for not taking care of your stuff the right way. Buy you a new one tomorrow?
Todoroki Shouto
Katsuki huffs a laugh and shakes his head at the fact that the idiot still signs his name as though this mirror writing shit isn’t just their thing. His heart also fucking swells to think that Todoroki had the same idea as him but beat him to it. The bastard.
He reads the note once more before putting his marker to the mirror just under the blue words and writes.
It’s fine fucker it can be salvaged but we’re still going to the mall I need a new white shirt and you need ice cream
Katsuki pulls back, nibbling on his bottom lip before leaning forward again to add:
I’m sorry too
There. Easy. Done.
Katsuki snaps the cap back on the marker and heads back out, pausing in front of Todoroki’s door.
He raps his knuckles against it softly, three times.
“Night, loser,” he mumbles.
He hears the shuffling of sheets and then–
“Good night, Bakugou, sleep well.”
Katsuki smirks before going back to bed, slumber reeling him in easily.
Lovesick
"I'm home."
Shouto unlocks the door quietly and pads straight to the kitchen. He sets the bags onto the table and moves to the bathroom to wash up a bit.
The water he splashes on his face makes the orange writing on the mirror appear blurry. Shouto wipes his face with a towel and huffs as his vision gets cleared.
Icyhot I told you I'm fuckin' peachy but since you won't listen just leave the meds by my door I got it from there
With their regular workout routines and healthy diets (thanks to Bakugou's cooking) they rarely ever get ill. Maybe that is why when one of them does get sick it's hard to accept it. Just like right now, Bakugou has a cold but refuses to let Shouto help.
Well, at least he's not refusing the meds anymore, that's some development. Shouto goes back into the kitchen and sets the soup to heat in a pot on the stove. The ban still persists but Shouto's confident that even he can't mess up heating something as simple as soup.
Deeming it hot enough, Shouto pours it in a bowl and carries it in a tray along with the medicine and a glass of water. After knocking a few times he manages to single-handedly open the door and is greeted with the sight of Bakugou frowning at him.
As Shouto puts the tray on his nightstand and pulls out a chair to sit Bakugou grumbles, "You want to get sick too idiot? I told you I'm fine." His voice is still a little scratchy but he's not coughing or sneezing anymore so that's a good sign.
Shouto hums distractedly and leans forward to brush aside Bakugou's bangs and press his hand against his forehead, and that strangely works to get Bakugou to stop complaining. Though Shouto is probably not the best guy to try and estimate one's body temperature. He pointedly ignores Bakugou's amused grin and pulls back to pick up the soup bowl.
Bakugou's scowl instantly returns, "I don't wanna eat anything."
"I know that's why I brought some soup instead. See?"
When Bakugou wrinkles his nose at the bowl Shouto pointedly adds, "You can't take the meds on an empty stomach."
Bakugou raises a skeptical brow after a moment of pause that has Shouto pouting. "And you. . . made this?"
"I didn't, just heated it."
This seems to satisfy the other (so rude) but when he still makes no move to take the bowl from him Shouto scoops up a spoonful and raises it to his mouth. Bakugou looks baffled for a minute but eventually takes a sip.
"How's it?"
"Fine."
Shouto smiles. "Want me to feed it to you?"
Bakugou makes a choked noise and snatches the bowl from his hands, he has still not completely recovered then Shouto concludes judging from his alarmingly red face.
Shouto sits back to watch him. When Bakugou's glasses start getting slightly foggy due to the hot soup, only then does Shouto notice he's even wearing them, too caught up earlier in checking Bakugou's condition.
"Oh. You're wearing glasses." Shouto points out the obvious.
Bakugou blinks. "Was reading something earlier." Sighing, he hands over the bowl to Shouto, some of the soup still left in it but it's fine. Shouto gives him the meds with the glass of water.
"That rescue operation really was tough huh, all that construction site dust must've caused this allergic reaction."
"Yeah, couldn't stop hacking my lungs out after coming outta there. Shitty villains couldn't have found a better place for keeping hostages." Shouto hums in sympathy.
Bakugou keeps squinting and occasionally running a hand through his hair. Shouto takes the now empty glass from him and asks, "Headache?"
The groan and jerky nod he receives in return is enough of a reply. It doesn't take long for Shouto to take action. He stands up abruptly causing Bakugou to cast him a confused glance that immediately morphs into surprise when Shouto steps closer to him.
Red eyes open impossibly wide as Shouto gently holds the glasses' frame and takes it off. Putting it on the nightstand, Shouto sits on the bed and points to his lap, "Lay down."
Bakugou sputters,"The fuck—are you okay?!"
Shouto repeats sternly, "Bakugou lay down." Which stuns him enough for him to comply.
When Bakugou's head is comfortably resting on his lap Shouto combs his hands through blond hair (soft) and starts massaging his head. Bakugou is still frowning, his face faintly red but he closes his eyes.
"You don't have to do this."
Shouto scratches his scalp and is rewarded with a contented sigh, Bakugou relaxes further.
"I know but I want to."
Bakugou laughs softly, "You like playing nurse or something." His words slurried.
Shouto smiles, "Maybe."
No words are uttered then and after a while Bakugou's frown relaxes, his breath evens and Shouto realizes he fell asleep. He runs his hand through his hair a few more times then cautiously lifts his head and places it on the pillow, tucks him in.
Shouto stands by the bedside biting his lip but then gives in to his urge. He leans down and kisses Bakugou's forehead.
"Get well soon, Katsuki." He can call him that for now, in this moment where only Shouto will know.
He switches off the lights and takes the tray with him on his way out.
Sneak Peak
Katsuki makes it back to the apartment soaking wet and annoyed as shit.
It’s his day off so he thought he could get a couple more hours of shut eye before he went on his jog, but of course it had to start raining out of nowhere halfway through it. Of fucking course.
He grumbles and swears under his breath as he unlocks the front door and quickly shucks off his sopping wet shoes and socks at the genkan. He remembers that Todoroki does have work today and he’d left by the time Katsuki had woken up, so without another thought he quickly strips off his soaked clothes too so that he doesn’t drip all over the place.
Katsuki books it into the apartment and to the bathroom with his arms wrapped around himself, so fucking ready for a nice hot shower to improve his shitty mood. He’s not about to let a little rain ruin his day off, dammit.
He flips the light on and tiptoes straight into the shower, audibly exhaling when the scathing hot water hits his chest. Fuck, yeah this is the stuff.
Katsuki scrubs himself clean and thoroughly washes his hair out, spending an extra fifteen minutes longer under the stream than he needs to because he can, reluctantly getting out when the water stops being hot enough to boil him alive.
He’s just tied a towel around his waist after towel-drying his hair when he spots the familiar blue writing on the mirror, somewhat faded now with the steam but still legible.
I have a package being delivered today can you please collect it? Thanks
Todoroki Shouto
Katsuki just nods to himself before swiping the side of his fist to erase the now mostly invisible message, making note in his head to expect the delivery. It’s probably the new set of curtains they ordered after the, uh, incident (thanks Mina) during the little party they had hosted a few days ago.
It doesn’t take him long to throw on his comfiest sweats, only semi-reluctantly slipping on the fuzzy cat socks Todoroki bought him that he unfortunately has a matching pair to. But it’s almost December and it’s cold as fuck and it’s the warmest pair of socks he owns so he’s willing to bite the bullet.
One bowl of fresh miso soup, some rice, and an omelette later finds Katsuki snuggled up on their couch, a cup of Todoroki’s fancy black tea held between his palms for warmth. He clicks on the TV, flipping through the options of streaming services, some his own and some Todoroki’s, and settles on one. He picks the shitty sitcom he and his sappy ass roommate just finished last month and plays a random episode, perfect for entertainment but nothing he has to really focus on and can let the white noise relax him.
A sharp knock on the door who knows how long later startles him out of semi-consciousness, and Katsuki pads over to answer with the throw blanket wrapped around him.
When he opens the door there’s no one there, but when he glances down there’s a brown cardboard box on the doormat.
Oh, right, Todoroki’s package.
Katsuki pokes his head out and throws out a “thanks” in case the delivery person’s still around and carefully nudges the box into their apartment with his socked foot.
It’s pretty light and doesn’t rattle, which is confirmed when he picks it up by hand, so it’s definitely the curtains then.
He has a momentary flash of hesitation and guilt when he goes to open the package, even though they’ve both opened each other’s shit when they know it’s something for the apartment. He shoves it aside and decides he’ll put up the curtains so that Todoroki can come check it out when he’s back from his shift. Besides, Katsuki’s curious to know if it’ll look just like it did online when they picked it and wants to make sure it matches their color scheme or whatever.
He finds the box cutter and slices the tape down the center, pulls open the tabs, and peers inside. Katsuki furrows his brows in confusion. This ain’t the shade of blue they ordered. There ain’t much blue on it at all, what the fuck?
He pulls out the folded fabric, which doesn’t even seem to be the material they ordered either, but as he unfurls it his perplexion quickly morphs to surprise and awe. And panic.
Fuck. This is definitely not the curtain they ordered and Katsuki really, really shouldn’t have opened it.
Because this is present. For him, and most likely for Christmas ‘coz he remembers talking about it over dinner once. And he is definitely not meant to see until it is gifted to him.
Katsuki quickly and carefully folds the ultra-rare, long since discontinued Golden Age era All Might sweatshirt that also has his former teacher’s actual, original autograph on the left chest, and places it back into the box. His heart is thudding in his ribcage and the grin on his face is manic as he lines the flaps back exactly and tapes it back up. He’s lucky he did a neat job opening it because when he examines it, it’s like he never touched it.
He takes the box and sets it in front of Todoroki’s bedroom door, still feeling bad that he’s now ruined the surprise the bastard was probably looking forward to.
But lucky for him, Katsuki’s probably gonna still lose his mind when he opens it for real, and his reaction will absolutely pass for one of surprise. Because that right there is one of the greatest and most thoughtful presents he’s ever fucking gotten (well, going to get). Holy shit he could kiss Todoroki on the fucking mouth.
Uh, wait, what?
Katsuki shakes his head, the excitement clearly getting to him such that his brain isn’t compartmentalizing its contents like it’s supposed to. Whatever, he can shove it aside for now ‘coz he ain’t about to fuck up two things for Todoroki this close together.
Later when Todoroki returns from work he doesn’t suspect a thing and just thanks Katsuki for bringing it to his door.
And if Katsuki lets the idiot fall asleep on the couch with his head on his shoulder as a sorta secret apology and a thank you (it’s more than just that), it’s no one’s fuckin’ business but his own.
Thinkin' of You
It's not that bad at all, having the apartment to himself for a few days while Bakugou is gone on a vacation with his parents. Shouto gets to sprawl out on the couch for one, his leg thrown over the backrest while his hand dangles down the side.
The view is great too, Shouto never knew there were so many mysterious stains up on the ceiling. He shifts a little but clearly he miscalculates because the next thing he knows his view tilts and Shouto is met with the floor. He lays there unmoving for a moment. Well, that was entertaining at the very least.
Okay fine, it sucks.
Shouto doesn't want to be by himself anymore. He's bored and doesn't know what to do.
He decides to reheat the things for dinner that Bakugou prepared for him before leaving. One can only stare at the ceiling for so long.
Shouto's glad Bakugou got some time off. It was difficult to convince him but after his parents' continuous insistence and Shouto's efforts at persuading him he relented (it was three against one after all.) But as Shouto stands alone in their dark apartment and puts his dinner in the microwave, he feels like he should've taken up Mitsuki-san's offer to join them. He had refused in order to let Bakugou have some family time and also because with one hero unavailable the others had to compensate for it. But now he's lonely.
Shouto doesn't understand why he's so wound up; it's not like they were always seeing each other everyday back at UA. (But it's hard to feel fine about it when Shouto finally got to know what it's like to see each other every morning and night. His feelings don't make it easier either.)
It's difficult to eat alone just like the last few days and Shouto's dinner once again is left half eaten. Bakugou always made sure to have at least one meal of the day together with Shouto. Be it breakfast, lunch or dinner depending on when they both could manage some time. But he never bailed out. These little gestures mean so much to Shouto he can't even express it properly.
He goes into Bakugou's room and opens his closet to look for the comfiest t-shirts Bakugou has which Shouto likes to borrow occasionally.
("No Bakugou, it's not stealing."
"Then where the fuck do they go after you take them?")
He puts on an orange long sleeved shirt. Shouto subtly takes a sniff, lips curling in disappointment when all he can smell is the detergent and not Katsuki's lingering scent. A weird impulse.
It's frustrating. Being alone in an apartment for two, washing laundry in half the load than usual, sitting alone on the couch without the weight of Bakugou's head or feet on his lap or the feel of his hands in Shouto's hair.
He knows he can just text him. And they have been texting each other. Shouto sends Bakugou pictures of whatever caught his eye that day. Shouto even managed to goad him into sending some pictures back, even if those just consist of beautiful scenery, it's something.
But it's not the same. Their texting schedule is highly irregular mostly because Shouto doesn't want to bother him on his vacation and also because they're both awful texters.
Shouto misses his friend. A small part of him wonders whether Bakugou–Katsuki– would be thinking about him too. Shouto nearly wishes he would but immediately rejects the thought. Katsuki's supposed to be enjoying, not thinking about his roommate…who's back home…missing him like he won't be back in a day or two.
Shouto huffs and decides he's just sleep deprived. Tonight he'll go to sleep before midnight like a proper adult. Putting the leftovers back in the fridge he trudges over to the bathroom.
Shouto stands before the mirror, giddily traces along its edge to not smudge the erasable ink. He smiles as he reads the instructions Katsuki left him for possibly the hundredth time.
I know you'll steal my stuff, so split the laundry in whites and colors I DON'T want my shit pink when I get back.
Heat the food before eating, NOT with your quirk I'll know if you did don't try me.
Lock the damn door before passing out you always forget but now I ain't here to do it for ya.
Invite the nerd and shitty hair over, whatever, just don't make a mess.
Restocked your stupid flowery shampoo and shower gels so no you don't need to buy more (would it hurt you to check first before fucking off to the store?!)
Shouto's mouth tugs up into a smile, his reflection is obscured by the writing but he doesn't mind. There are things that didn't need to be written there at all and yet here they are displayed in neat strokes. And just like the other times Shouto read it, he erupts into soft chuckles as he gets to the end part.
Do not sneak in a furball while I'm away I'm serious Icyhot.
Shouto lets out a breathy laugh.
He loves him so much.
He stills.
Shouto looks in the mirror and mouths the words slowly as if they'll shatter the glass. And it feels right, like that's how it's always been.
Shouto loves him. It's a fact.
Shouto loves Katsuki and is suddenly taken over by a desperate want to do something like shout it out, preferably to Katsuki himself but he isn't here so he takes the blue marker from the toothbrush holder and scribbles below the list Katsuki left him.
This will do for now, he'll confess properly later.
Me, You: Us
It’s almost two in the morning by the time Katsuki returns to his apartment. He’s quite grateful for the darkness and general lack of people up and about at this time because having his parents drop him off in front of his building is rather embarrassing.
Despite his protests, his dad waves him away and helps take out his suitcase from the trunk while his mom pulls him down by the face to kiss his forehead. God, they’re both so annoyingly gross and stubborn.
“I’m so glad we could finally do this, brat,” his mom says, cupping Katsuki’s cheek even though he tries to swat her away.
“Yeah, yeah, it was fun, holy shit stop smothering me you old hag!”
His mom lightly pats his cheek with a laugh and steps away as his dad rolls his suitcase to him. He then passes Katsuki’s backpack to him which he shrugs on.
“We had a great time too,” his dad says, ruffling his hair and Katsuki lets himself be pulled into a quick hug. He really is glad he got to spend time with them and relax; the family vacation was long overdue and he missed them. But he likes giving them a hard time too, it’s how he’s always shown he cares and he ain’t about to change that shit now.
“Yeah, drive back safe, old man, it’s dark out.”
“Aw, the baby cares about us!”
“Shut the fuck up, ma!”
He presses a quick kiss to his annoying mother’s cheek and then they’re both off.
Katsuki stands and watches, slightly shivering in the late winter cold until the tail lights disappear down the street before turning to head inside the building.
Muscle memory takes him through the little lobby and to the elevator, post-vacation blues and exhaustion hitting him all at once as the metal box ascends to the fifth floor. He’s gotta get back into the rhythm of his usual schedule and report back at work tomorrow, fuck. He loves what he does, more than most people can say about their jobs, but shit, he’s still human and it’s always hard to jump back into reality.
The elevator dings as it opens on his floor, the sound instantly reigniting the anticipation he’d been trying to suppress all day at the prospect of finally getting to see a certain someone again lest he spontaneously combust with the overwhelming emotion.
He’s not even gonna bother denying it to himself: he really fucking missed Shouto. More so than what’s considered normal between roommates, probably. But he doesn’t have the brain power to care about the implications of that, the fact that he just might be in love with him.
All he does care about is seeing Shouto again and pulling him into his arms right where he fucking belongs. But unfortunately, that might have to wait until the morning seeing that it’s real fucking late and the bastard’s probably fast asleep which makes his heart sink a little.
Yeah, he’s definitely in love with him.
Katsuki sighs heavily, sticks his key into the lock, and quietly makes his way inside.
He slips off his shoes and takes his bags to his room, dropping them at the foot of the bed. He walks over to his closet to grab his sleep clothes, instantly noting that shit’s been shifted around which means the bastard stole his clothes again. The thought makes his heart clench.
He heads in the direction of the bathroom, pausing to eye Shouto’s door further down. Should he–? No, no he can’t wake him. It’ll be morning in a couple hours anyway he can wait, he can.
Katsuki shuffles into the bathroom and turns on the light, his eyes quickly passing over his list of instructions he’d left on their mirror. He huffs, not sure if he’s glad or exasperated at the fact that the bastard didn’t think to wipe it down.
He hops in the shower for a speedy rinse, just enough to get the travel grime off himself, and steps back out less than five minutes later.
He’s dried himself and is slipping on his clothes, idly looking at his reflection in the mirror which is mostly obscured by the writing, when he spots the three words written in blue just below the block of orange which he must’ve missed before. His heart skips a beat and almost exits his chest.
I miss you
Fuck.
He doesn’t need a fucking signature to know who that’s from.
Yeah, screw it, he ain’t waiting until the morning for this shit, he has a person to see.
Katsuki practically bolts out of the bathroom, wincing slightly when he pulls the door open a little too hard, but doesn’t look back.
He’s in front of Shouto’s room in seconds, knocking thrice just as courtesy before turning the doorknob and making his way to the sleeping form without a second thought.
Katsuki sits on the edge of his roommate’s bed and Shouto rouses, sleepy eyes blinking open in confusion and then delight.
“Katsuki?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Katsuki breathes, voice hitching when he sees his own T-shirt peeking out from under the sheets, “I’m back.”
Shouto smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling and expression so damn soft as he reaches up with a hand to cup the side of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki doesn’t resist as he’s gently pulled down, and then he’s pressing his mouth to Shouto’s in a warm kiss.
They part with a quiet sound and Shouto’s hand threads up into his hair, the other running up and down his arm as Katsuki pulls both his legs up onto the bed. He buries his face into the crook of Shouto’s neck and breathes him in, body stretching out half on top of him.
“I missed you too,” Katsuki murmurs against skin and the hum he gets in response vibrates through his whole frame.
He feels the pressure of a kiss against the side of his head and then Shouto whispers, “Could you stay here tonight?”
“Wasn’t planning on leaving in the first place.”
Katsuki pulls back then leans in for another lingering kiss to Shouto’s lips before making himself comfortable under the sheets with him, letting their legs tangle and sliding his arm under Shouto’s neck.
“I’m glad you’re back,” he tells Katsuki, wrapping his arm around Katsuki’s ribcage and nuzzling his face into his chest.
Katsuki grins, eyes drooping closed as he furrows his nose into Shouto’s soft hair, taking in the familiar scent of his strawberry and kiwi shampoo.
“Yeah, ‘s good to be home.”