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He knew he had fucked up. He knew it.
He was mad, pissed off because one of the goddamn sidekicks from his agency had been an impulsive knucklehead and almost got herself killed, so he had stepped in, trying to keep the villain in line, the stupid sidekick safe, and the citizen that was being held hostage even more protected.
He had finally saved the day, but not the way he had wanted, nor planned. He had gotten chewed off by the press, since there had been some destruction of the place, and he had yelled at the sidekick if she had a brain at all; but what else is new, right? The press had instantly recorded him cursing and then pointed out how much debris was around, how other heroes would have handled the situation much more smoothly, like his boyfriend or stupid Deku.
He wanted to be the number one hero, and that meant being the best, being flawless, making no mistakes, and there he was, being publicly humiliated by those vultures: all his missteps being pointed out loud, all his insecurities aired on national TV.
He had gone home, and Shouto was there, patiently waiting for him. Katsuki was still angry and rather than run into the arms of his adored boyfriend, he had lashed out at him. Shouto knew he was just an outlet for the blond’s rage, so he had let him at first, but Katsuki was a sly asshole, and wanting a real fight, he had gotten vicious and hurt Shouto, were it hurt the most. He doesn’t even remember all the awful things he had spited, but he does remember the broken look on Shouto’s face, the betrayal written on his eyes, and his last words:
“You are so obsessed with being the number one hero that you don’t mind who you might hurt in your way to the top. You’re just like my father.”
That had shut him up for good. The words Shouto had whispered were floating around them, taunting him. He was so shocked, he hadn’t even realized Shouto was putting on his coat and leaving until he heard the front door open. That had snapped him out of the trance, and then he had rushed there.
“Where are you going?” He had demanded.
“Out. I need space, and I need to think about things. I don’t like who you are becoming, Katsuki. This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this. Last week, you also hurt me. I-I-I can’t keep up with this. I love you, but I won’t follow my mother's steps. I won’t end up being a prisoner of the same vicious cycle.”
Tears were spilling down both of their faces. Shouto’s lip was quivering, and the grip he had on the door was so tight that ice was forming around his hand. That only showed how bothered he truly was. Katsuki realized his hair, too, had some flames on it.
He had done this. He had made the man he loves so much lose control of his quirk.
“Pl-Please, don’t. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me,” he begged brokenly.
Shouto bit his lip. He hesitated, so Katsuki begged him once more. Shouto closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he whispered, “No. I can’t. If I stay, we’ll never learn. I-I need some time to think.”
Katsuki had watched him leave. He had seen his back going down the entrance of the house they had bought just three months ago, until he no longer saw him. He had then closed the door and slid down until he hit the floor. He had lain there until he had gotten too cold, and the clattering in his teeth was too much to handle.
Walking like a zombie, he had reached their kitchen, and he saw the dinner Shouto had made for the two of them. He was still a disaster in the kitchen. Five years living together-together (not counting the dorms), six and a half dating, and Katsuki was still showing him the basics. It was some simple tamagoyaki and simmered kabocha squash, but Katsuki knew Shouto must have taken his time to prepare it.
Shouto had waited for him, knowing he would be upset after his failure, and had prepared dinner for his unworthy ass. He knew that was not it. He turned around and saw it, their fluffiest blanket, and the couch was arranged in the most comfortable way to cuddle. He saw the movie on the coffee table, one of All Might’s old ones... one of his favorites.
He fell to his knees and cried. If only he had accepted Shouto’s embrace rather than attack him and use all the confessions and secrets they had shared to hurt him, he would be now teasing Shouto about his lack of cooking skills, being kissed softly by his one true love, and cuddling comfortably in his arms.
He got up, explosions on his hands, and his first instinct was to destroy it all. To fully let it all out.
“You’re just like my father. I don’t like who you are becoming. I won’t end up prisoner of the same vicious cycle.”
That night, he didn’t destroy anything. He had already wrecked enough things.
“I’ll change. I promise, Shouto. Please give another chance,” he whimpered.
But there was no one to answer.
He was all alone in the room.
After all, he had already ruined his everything.
❌
Katsuki adjusts his gauntlets one last time before he exits his agency. He’s on patrol duty. He hears someone calling him. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t want to talk with anyone. Today, he’s not in the mood.
He blasts himself up in the sky and lands on the furthest rooftop down the street where his agency is located. He feels tired. He hasn’t slept, waiting like a dog at the entrance for Shouto’s return. He hasn’t. Katsuki wonders if he will ever. It doesn’t matter. He won’t give up. He’ll change and show Shouto he’s not his fucking father.
He jumps from the roof and lands on the street, using his explosions to do so. Some of the citizens yelp, startled. He clenches his teeth and, rather than viciously sneer at them, he keeps walking. He needs to chill out.
Shouto is right.
He calmed down a lot during his last course on UA, but then he became angry once he became a full hero, due to the stress of realizing he was dealing with people’s lives and that there was no one there to help him or guide him if needed. How many times had he proclaimed he was no sidekick? Real life—being a pro-hero—was harder than he had ever imagined. The smack reality had given to him had been enough to wake him up and realize what a little shit he had been all along.
The first time a citizen had died on his duty, he had almost blasted off a building. Shouto had held him to calm him down, and he had. After that moment, he had started to be less angry, less impulsive, and more thoughtful, as he had achieved on UA.
As he walks through the streets, ignoring the people who stare at him, he starts to wonder when he started to spiral again. When did he start to be so angry?
He chuckles. What a joke. Who is he trying to kid? He knows exactly when.
Four months ago, when he had ranked 2nd, one position below Deku. People had praised them. So young, only 20, and both already at the top. They had both outranked Hawks from the title of youngest hero to reach it. But it hadn’t been enough, not for him. He had wanted the first place, and he had cursed and stormed out of the gala as soon as he had been able to do so.
Shouto had followed him and calmly told him he was still at the top. When Katsuki had yelled at him, Shouto had blinked and simply told him that for him, he was his number one. Katsuki had been subdued after that.
He blinks away the sting in his eyes. He was Shouto’s number one. That should have been enough for him. It was enough for him. He had always preached that he didn’t care what others thought of him; being number one at the top was that after all. It didn’t matter if you were the best hero, the rank is mainly a popularity contest, and Deku was family-friendly and well-loved. Katsuki knows he needs to be more approachable to earn the same popularity as Deku, and even if he doesn’t, he will try to be a better hero to shadow him enough to be the number one. He knew that that was what Shouto had tried to explain to him after the gala. Still, he had only calmed down when Shouto had confessed that Katsuki was his number one.
He was Shouto’s number one.
Was.
He clenches his teeth and keeps walking, trying to forget his personal drama and foul mood so he can patrol appropriately. He needs to gain control of his emotions. He needs to.
His patrolling time is almost over when someone reaches him through his com.
“Dynamight, we have an emergency call.”
“Send me the address.”
He rushes to the place and smiles when he sees three wannabe villains trying to cause havoc. He quickly studies the scene and takes a quick damage control test. He goes first for the idiot who is closest to the citizens and blasts him into the ground. One knocked out, two more to go. A car comes flying toward him. He could use his AP shot to trash the car, but he still remembers last night's fiasco. He needs to not destroy so many private properties. Fucking fine. He dodges the car and sees the idiot who has launched it at him is going for the second one. Yeah, he doesn’t think so.
Propelling himself, he goes straight for the fool and, raising himself up, he grabs him by his shoulder and throws him into the pavement with such strength that the idiot gets knocked out too.
One left. He knows he’s right behind him. He has seen that he has some kind of spines quirk. He saw them on his skin, like metallic little ones.
“Surrender, and I won’t kick your ass too badly,” he sneers as he slowly turns around.
The fucker takes a step back. It makes him smile more viciously. Fear is one of his greatest weapons after all.
“Go, Dynamight, go!” The people cheer him on.
“Why?” The fucker babbles. “Why are heroes so well recognized but not us? We both use violence to get our way!”
He rolls his eyes and gets ready to end this. He’s had enough talk for today. He gets his gauntlet ready to blast, as he won’t come close to that metallic hedgehog wannabe. He raises his hand and feels a pang on his shoulder as he blasts the idiot unconscious.
Looking down, he sees a metallic spike impaled on his shoulder. Uh, he hadn’t counted that he could actually throw them. Quickly looking around, he sees there are no spikes skewered anywhere. That’s why he assumed he couldn’t do that.
Clenching his teeth, he takes it out and presses the wound to stop the bleeding. It’s nothing, just a small injury, nothing too serious. The police arrive, and he gives them his statement. The press arrives too. He wants to flip them off, and on another occasion, he would have. He hears them calling for him, asking about yesterday’s disaster. He ignores them. He has already given them too much and, in exchange, lost even more.
He accepts the police officer who offers to take a look at his wound, and he sees all the cops startled, eyes open wide, and whispering among themselves. Usually, he always makes a fuss and leaves between curses that he needs no medical attention. Usually, Shouto is always around, ready to be his nurse with all those medicines he always carries around his silly belt. That was his first instinct: to seek him... He knows the injury is nothing, but he’s fucking trying, and he knows this time Shouto won’t stroll down the street with a soft smile and gentle hands ready to heal his pathetic ass and kiss him.
He sits down on the back of the ambulance and grunts monosyllables to the paramedic treating his wound. He hears the commotion and sees a reporter taking a picture of him and yelling, asking if he’s dying.
He growls angrily, but makes no further statement or movement.
The medic chuckles. “It’s quite strange to see you in here. I guess they thought you might be on the edge of death.”
Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Yeah, well, I know this is nothing, but it was either coming here or them.”
“Oh, I see. I guess if you want, we could pretend you need more assistance and drop you a couple of blocks from here?”
“Nah. I don’t run away… too much,” he adds in a whisper.
The man hums and finishes patching him. Katsuki stands up and rolls his shoulder to test it. It kind of stings a little, but it’s nothing too lousy. He blasts himself off to the nearest rooftop, ignoring the calls for him.
He reaches his agency just seven minutes later. He nods at the receptionist and smashes his floor button on the elevator pad. Then he goes straight into his office, ignoring everyone on his path, and slams the door shut. He’s been doing some thinking on his way here and during his patrol hours, too. He’s not so sure if he wants to go home. There are three possible scenarios:
One, the house is still empty.
Two, Shouto is there and wants to leave him for good.
Three, Shouto is there and is ready to forgive him.
None of them is good. The first one will crush him because that means that he has messed up so badly with Shouto that the man doesn’t even want to come home.
The second is bad, and he doesn’t even need to explain why; even if he plans to get Shouto back no matter which scenario happens, he would rather not have his heart shattered, thanks.
The third might be the worst and trickiest one because of its nature. He doesn’t deserve Shouto’s forgiveness, not yet. The man has pulled up with his bullshit for years… and he was right. Katsuki is like his fucking father. Both are so obsessed with being number one that they didn’t realize the treasure that was next to them until they lost what they had taken for granted: Shouto.
He stays in his office. He takes off his gauntlets, slides his mask up, and unlaces his boots a little. If there’s an emergency, he’ll be ready in a minute. He sends a message to his colleagues that he’s taking the extra hours and starts filling out his more-than-overdue paperwork. He has a lot that needs attention.
Someone knocks on the door. It’s the sidekick from yesterday. She seems almost afraid of entering his office. He sighs and mumbles for her to come in.
“Dynamight sensei, I came here to apologize. My action yesterday was awful, and because of that, now the press… I-I’m deeply sorry.”
He rests his head on his hands and studies her. She’s trembling a little.
“It’s okay.” Her head snaps up, and her eyes widen. He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Just don’t fucking repeat it, got it? Words mean shit, actions do. Next time, I might not be there, and that citizen could’ve died. Trust me when I tell you this, you won’t ever forgive yourself if that happens.”
With that, he simply turns to his computer.
“Th-thank you… Bakugou-san.”
He hums in acknowledgement and keeps typing his report. As soon as the door closes, he stops pretending and lets out a big puff of air. He laughs weakly. He’s such a fucking hypocrite. Words mean shit, actions do. He begged Shouto to stay, and the man saw through his bullshit. He really doesn’t deserve him, does he?
He opens his drawer and pulls out the small frame Shouto had given him for their second anniversary. He always keeps it in his drawer because he doesn’t want anyone to snoop around his personal life. He places it on his desk and stares at it. It’s just the two of them, cheek to cheek on a stupid party post-graduation. They were still young and innocent, still believing being a hero was just kicking ass and taking names, not the piles of paperwork and dead hours waiting for something to happen.
He takes the frame again and caresses Shouto’s face. He was beaming, and his own face has a small smile. Shouto has his arm around his shoulders, and he has his around Shouto’s waist, pulling them impossibly together. He closes his eyes and can still feel him. The weight of his body, the duality of temperatures, how warm his connected sides were, how cold his hand felt, and Shouto’s smell surrounding him. A small whimper escapes his throat. Blinking, he sees a small tear has fallen and covers their smashed joint cheeks.
He places the frame back on his desk and wipes away his tears as he starts to type once more the report he was filling before he was interrupted. Every couple of sentences, his eyes move to the picture, and he wonders if Shouto is now at their home, waiting for Katsuki to come. Is he disappointed or happy to see that he's not coming? He empties his mind and forces himself to fill report after report until the night falls and the building empties.
His phone rings as he's filling what he believes must be his 8th report. He connects the speaker and starts to tie up his boots as he’s briefed about a new altercation on the docks, where his assistance has been requested since he’s listed as active at this unholy hour. He hangs up as he slides his mask down. He’s ready.
Dunce face is there too. He grunts as a hello and goes straight to the first line of action, barking at him to tell him what’s going on so far.
“Well, we believe there are three hostages. Five bad guys. Police reports suspect one has a super speed quirk, another a super strength one, one has reptilian qualities, another has some kind of fire quirk, and the last one is unknown.”
That makes him stop and snap his head back towards Kaminari. “Unknown? Not a single clue?”
“Nope, sorry, Bakubro, but the cops suspect he hasn’t used it yet, and since he remains in the shadows, no face recognition can be pulled up.”
Katsuki presses his lips. He usually prefers to have all the data beforehand, especially if there’s lives on the line. He tsks and decides to take a higher position for a better view, since the front doesn't offer anything and the cops have no more information to give him. There’s a crane that faces one of the windows. He deems he can’t use his explosions to blast himself up, since he needs to be sneaky, so he climbs it, old style. His injured shoulder protests a little, but he ignores it.
Balancing himself on the top of it, he crouches on the furthest extreme and sees two of the hostages. They are being held on the top floor, well, the top walkway, since the whole warehouse is plain open. He uses his com to tell the cops so. They ask him if he can see something else. He wonders why he’s doing this. He wonders why there are no heroes like ears or fucking multiple arms around. They are the ones specialized in getting info: Katsuki is a powerhouse, ready to enter and annihilate, not to play I spy.
He can’t really see too much beyond some part of the top walkways. When he says so, they thank him and order him to stay put.
He stands up as his legs get twitchy and a cold breeze hits him square. He’s high enough that the wind is icy. He heats up his suit. After all, he needs to sweat. It’s not as bad as it used to be. Having a boyfriend who is half ice has helped him develop greater resistance to freezing temperatures. A pang of sadness hits him. How ridiculous, even a little puff of cold air is making him sad, recalling his better times with Shouto. God, if they break up for real, he’s not sure if he can keep up the façade...
His com pulls him out of his dark thoughts. “Dynamight, we are entering. We’ve waited enough. We want you to attack by surprise from above, close to the rear of the warehouse, while we take the front. Your priority is the two hostages on the top floor. Take them to safety and then return to assist us.”
“Sure,” he replies.
Dunce face opens a private line with him. “Dude, you okay? You haven’t yelled or bossed around… It’s kind of weird. Are you, you know… fine?”
“Sure,” he hisses. He hears the idiot trying to contact him again, so he disconnects his device. The plan is simple. He doesn’t need to listen to anything else, and he definitely doesn’t need anyone butting in on his relationship issues. Crouching, he gets ready to leap from the crane into the building as soon as the cops get ready to enter. He sees the hostages are still upstairs, no bad guy in sight.
The cops enter, and he jumps and smashes through the window. He can feel the glass cutting him, but it’s nothing big. His injured shoulder hurts a little bit, protesting once more, but it’s alright. The hollow in his chest is worse, and he’s still standing. He blasts himself towards the two hostages, two men who work for the docks, and sees one of the villains appear. It’s the reptilian one. He doesn’t even stop, he blasts him and tosses him over the banister before he unties the hostages. If it were only one or two small women, he could carry them, but not two oversized guys, and with his shoulder panging. Old style is it again.
“Follow me, hurry,” he tells them.
He starts to walk down the walkway, keeping an eye on his front and back for any possible menaces. He jumps to the ground floor and hurries the men to climb down the ladder. A fucker appears after he knocks down a cop, facing them. Katsuki can feel the heat rising around them. He must be the fire one, he guesses.
He smiles, “Oi, don’t you know I need to sweat to use my quirk? Kind of a bad match, wouldn’t you agree?” He crouches and tackles him down, against some boxes.
“Dynamight, we take the hostages, keep fighting,” some other cop tells him.
Perfect. He has sparred enough with Shouto to know when a fire quirk is going to be activated, so he rolls away and blasts one of his AP Shots at the idiot. He sees the hanging pipes above his head, so he blasts there after checking no one else is around. The pipes fall, and the guy doesn’t even know what hit him. Two down.
He runs and blasts himself up. He sees a blur going around and some of the cops getting knocked out. The super speedy one, uh.
“Bakubro! I have this one. There’s still the missing hostage.”
Katsuki nods and leaves him to Dunce face, he’s a hero too after all. Scanning the rest of the warehouse, he sees a back office. He propels himself there and blasts the door off its hinges.
The last hostage is there. He looks pale, and blood is falling down his nose. The bad guy holding him has no visible weapons. It must either be the strength quirk or the unknown one. If he had to bet, it’s the second one.
“H-help me…” the poor man wheezes as blood starts to flood from his mouth.
Katsuki frowns. What kind of quirk does this fucker have? It doesn’t matter, he needs to act now. The hostage is bleeding too much, and none of the cops are close by.
“Let him go,” he snarls. Funnily, his shoulder starts to hurt a lot. What the fuck?
The fucker smiles, and then he lets go of the poor man, who falls to the floor like a rag doll. Katsuki gets ready to shoot his AP when he feels an extreme pang in his head. He screams as he falls to the floor.
His head, it feels as if someone were trying to explode his brain from the inside out. He coughs, and blood falls onto the floor. He can’t breathe. He feels dizzy, so dizzy he can barely see anything. He tries to crawl and stand up, but it's pointless, as he keeps falling.
“If I were you, I’d run the other way. In case you are wondering my quirk affects the blood of those whom I look at. I can evaporate it by boiling it… You need heat, right? Let’s see what happens if I raise your blood temperature a little bit more.”
Katsuki screams as he feels his blood heat up like lava. He wants to tear his skin away to cool himself down. He uses his last strength to blast that motherfucker down. Only then does he collapse to the floor. The agony makes him twist around. The heat on his body doesn’t cool down. Why? Does this mean he’s doomed? He thought that if he knocked him down, the quirk effects would go too…
“Bakubro!”
He sees yellow and black. Kaminari.
“S-Shouto,” he rasps. Talking hurts.
“No, I'm not, him. Dude, hey you—”
“Nn-no,” he interrupts him. “T-tell Sh-Shouto, I’m sorry… th-that he’s my num-bber one too th-that I lov—”
The world fades to black before he can finish. He hopes Shouto will get the message, forgive him, and move on. He deserves to be happy.
❌
He hears a faint beep-beep rousing him out of his sleep. His body hurts, but it’s nothing compared with the throb on his head. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t. He can’t move. Why can’t he move? He feels hot, so hot. Is it summer?
“—ase, don’t go. Katsuki, please don’t leave me!”
He recognizes that voice. Shouto. Leave? Why would he leave him? He doesn’t understand. He wants to open his eyes and tell him that it’s okay, that he’d never do that. He loves him too much to spend a single day without him. But he can’t. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t move or talk. He hates it because Shouto keeps crying, and there's nothing that he wants to do more than comfort him. Why is Shouto so sad?
Eventually, he passes out.
He opens his eyes slowly, and even though it’s nighttime, he can see he’s in a hospital room. He looks down and realizes he’s in some kind of weird plastic suit. Uh, he’s actually kind of cold. He wonders why. He looks to his side and sees Shouto sleeping on an armchair. He looks awful. He looks paler than usual, his hair is a mess, and his eyes seem puffy with bags. He wants to wake him up, but seeing how bad he looks, he lets him keep sleeping. When he wakes up, he‘ll see Katsuki after all. It’s okay, he’s in a hospital, if he’s in this weird suit and cold, it must be for a reason, right?
Looking up at the ceiling’s shadows that are being cast from the street, he tries to recall what has happened.
He remembers Shouto crying and begging him not to leave. He glances at the man again. How long has he been gone? A day? Two? He closes his eyes and tries to remember. He can’t. He sighs exasperated.
Why can’t he remember anything? Alright, what is then the last thing he remembers?
He sees himself typing on his computer, still wearing his costume and the framed picture of them on the side. Uh, weird. He always keeps that in his drawer.
“I need space. I don’t like who you are becoming, Katsuki. Last week, you also hurt me. I won’t end up being a prisoner of the same vicious cycle.”
He gasps. He remembers now. His eyes move back to the man in the armchair. Why is he here? Why would he want to stay by his side? Katsuki is scum. He hurt him, all because he was chasing a dream when he was already there, when he had already won. He might not be everybody’s number one hero, but he was someone’s number one.
Now, he’s the one not ready to face Shouto. He needs time to fix this up in the appropriate way that Shouto deserves him to do. He wants to be Shouto’s number one. He still wants to be the hero number one, of course, but first and foremost, he cares about the opinion of those close to him. He knows his parents are proud of him, and he knows his friends think he's a good hero, too. He’s the only problem here. He has always been his biggest problem. His biggest enemy has always been himself. His good-for-nothing pride and the insecurities that come with it. He knows he hurts people, but he can’t stop it. Better them than him. But not Shouto. He promised to cherish him… and he broke that promise.
“Katsuki?” The tiny whisper is filled with hope.
He looks away, ashamed. Shouto shouldn’t be so happy because his worthless ass has finally woken up.
Shouto flies from the chair to his bed and pulls him into an embrace he doesn’t deserve.
“Kats, you’re awake.” Shouto kisses him. He takes his face between his hands and presses their lips together. He kisses him back just from the inertia of always doing so. “I’m so glad you are awake. Love, you gave me an awful scare! The doctors th-they thought… They said...”
Katsuki is torn, but the tear that slides down Shouto’s cheek is enough for him. He promised never to hurt him, and even if it wasn’t his fault, Shouto has suffered because of him.
“What happened?” he asks hoarsely.
“Oh, well, what do you remember?”
“Enough.”
“Well, when Kaminari found you, your body was too hot. The doctors say it’s only because of your quirk that you are alive. He-he almost burned you from the inside, Katsuki. You… your heart actually stopped twice. They had to, they... It stopped.” He buries his face against Katsuki’s chest, or he would if he weren’t inside the suit. He guesses he’s on it because of that.
“How long do I have to stay inside this thing?”
“I-I don’t know. I guess I should call the nurses. Wait here.”
He smiles a little. What a dork. Where is he supposed to go? It’s not as if he can move after all.
They take him off the suit and explain that he has to take a leave of at least a month or two, at least, recommended up to three or four. Since that fucker’s quirk messed with his blood and his brain and heart got affected so badly, he has to take daily telephonic checkups after he insists he wants to get discharged and signs all the paperwork to be able to do so. He hates hospitals. He’ll also have to come to get a weekly check-up for a month, starting two days from now.
Shouto drives them home. They don’t talk about the big elephant in the room. Katsuki doesn’t know if he should. He has been in an induced coma for a week, and then it took him three days to wake up after they decided to leave him be since he was stable and healing well. Shouto has stayed on his side since then. He really doesn’t deserve him, does he?
Shouto helps him get upstairs, then assists him in getting undressed before tucking him into their bed. Katsuki turns around while Shouto goes to their bathroom and faces the wall, giving his back to his boyfriend’s side. Heck, are they still together? So it seems, but if Katsuki hadn’t gotten hurt, would Shouto still be around, or would he be gone? He wouldn’t blame him. He deserves it. He still can’t believe he has hurt Shouto over and over with his bad temper. What is a miracle is that the man has pulled through with his bullshit for so long.
His eyes move to his nightstand. He had even considered asking Shouto to marry him. The fucking ring is on the back of his drawer. He’s glad he never did it. At least this way it's easier for Shouto to kick his ass without feeling trapped or something.
Shouto gets into the bed, and soon Katsuki feels the familiar warmth and coldness surrounding him. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than to lean back and tilt his head until he can kiss him goodnight. Shouto does kiss his shoulders and slides his arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Katsuki lets him.
“Kats, are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
Shouto stills. “Katsuki… what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Shouto moves away. Katsuki grits his teeth. Then he hears a small sniff, and his heart breaks. He quickly tries to sit up, but the sharp movement causes him to hiss and fall back into the bed. Shouto quickly hurries to his side to check if he’s okay. Katsuki can’t answer him. He can’t stop seeing the bloodshot eyes and the faint tear tracks he has caused. Again.
“Why are you still here?” he whispers.
Shouto’s eyes widen, and his lip quivers. Just like that night. “Do you want me to go?”
Katsuki laughs dryly. “Want you to? No. Should you? Yes.” Shouto frowns. “You were right. I’m an asshole. I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you, over and over again. I thought I’d changed since my teenage years, but I’m back to square one and I always hurt the ones I love the most. Leave now, Shouto. You were right, I’m just like your father,” he confesses, defeated.
Shouto shakes his head. “No, Katsuki, I was mad and hurt, and I said it without meaning it.”
Katsuki huffs. “Nah, you were right. But... I-I won’t give up.” Shouto’s frown deepens. “You should leave now, and if you are willing, wait for me. I’ll change. I’ll become a better man, a man worthy of your time. I’m so sorry, Sho. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, just wait for me?”
Both are crying. Shouto is sobbing brokenly, and Katsuki is silent, but the pain in his heart is real. Shouto shakes his head and intertwines their hands.
“No, I’ve already waited enough. A man not worth my time wouldn’t offer this. I’ll be by your side while you change. I’ve been away from you long enough, and I already know how you’ve started to change,” he offers him a tiny smile.
Now it’s Katsuki’s turn to get confused. “What do you mean?”
“People came to visit you. One was Minamoto, that sidekick at your agency,” he quickly adds, seeing Katsuki confused. “She came and told me how, rather than yell at her, you offered her advice. Actions, not words, I believe she said you had told her.” Shouto smiles and caresses his temple before he softly kisses him. “Kaminari came too, he told me how you were behaving. How you didn’t question or yell at anyone, how you cooperated with them and then… He-he told me what you said to him... to tell me.”
Tell Shouto, I’m sorry, that he’s my number one too. That I love him.
“I meant it,” he whispers. Shouto cries harder, and Katsuki tucks him into his arms. He caresses his hair and massages his shoulders. “Shh, it’s okay. C’mon, you must be tired. Let's go to sleep, okay?”
“No.” Shouto raises his head and looks at him. “Not until you promise me.”
Katsuki blinks. What is he missing?
Shouto nuzzles his nose against his jaw and whispers, “That you won’t leave me. Please, stay with me.”
Katsuki’s heart blooms. The love he feels for Shouto palpitates wildly through his veins. How can he let go of such a man? A man who is strong enough to pull with his bullshit. A man who has such a golden heart that he's willing to forgive him even if he only deserves a slap and a kick in the ass.
“Yes. I swear, Shouto, I’ll stay by your side, and I promise you I won’t lose my focus. I’ll be the best hero I can be, and I’ll always first and foremost be your number one, just like you are mine.”
Shouto kisses him. “That’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
[ fin.]