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If there’s one thing Katsuki likes about his life, it’s that he kind of figured out what he wanted early on and then he got it.
He knows he’s lucky.
He knows every day when he wakes up too tired to get up and go, that the place he’s going to isn’t some shitty corporate job or even an internship under his parents, but one of the top hero agencies in the world with one of the best rescue and villain takedown records in the country.
He knows that when he checks his phone to fifty thousand unread messages, it’s because he somehow managed to not fuck up his friendships with some of the (don’t ask him to ever admit this) best goddamn people in the whole world. Yeah, they’re annoying losers, but they’re his annoying losers, and he appreciates every single last one of them.
And he knows when he’s too fucking tired to keep his eyes open, dragging his feet up to the ninth floor of a two bedroom apartment with three cats and a full sized bathtub that it’s all his, paid for with his own sweat and blood, with Shouto somewhere inside.
And that’s what makes Katsuki the luckiest.
He and Shouto started dating sometime between their first and second years. It’s mostly a blur, but he does remember one good training room kiss and Deku’s head popping over it like a balloon. He’s still not sure why Shouto didn’t wait, but that’s the kind of person he is.
He gets ideas, and he goes for them. Sometimes those ideas are flinging walls of ice towards the bad guys, and sometimes it’s kissing Katsuki in the middle of an independent sparring session like some kind of idiot.
But he’s his idiot.
He’s his stupid pretty boy asshole, and the only reason Katsuki didn’t crawl under his desk tonight and go to sleep there is that he knows Shouto is here waiting for him, because he’s always waiting for him.
Their shifts are offset by four hours. Shouto gets off at eight which means Katsuki’s stupid ass has to drag himself in at midnight, but it still beats Deku’s 4 a.m. clock out by a mile.
So it means that for four hours a night, Shouto has the whole place to himself.
Sometimes he cooks, which was surprising at first. It was real simple shit in the beginning with the worst knife cuts Katsuki had ever seen, but Shouto got better. Katsuki stopped having to pick up food on the way home every night of the week, and there’s something about opening the fridge to a container of something with a stupid ass sticky note slapped on top that really does it for him.
Sometimes it’s just a drawing of a cat, and sometimes it’s a confessional i burned this, but sometimes it’s the I love you bullshit that makes Katsuki gag outwardly and crumble into a million pieces when no one’s looking.
But if he’s honest with himself, an I love you from Shouto? Well he’s the luckiest goddamn bastard in the world, now isn’t he?
Fuck yeah, he is.
And now as he drags himself towards their apartment door, Shouto’s face fills his mind, and he can see him so clearly already.
He’s asleep, naturally.
In their bed on his back like a vampire. Tuna is at his feet, curled up on the warm one. Ball Buster is on his stomach, and Paw Might is on his back on Katsuki’s pillow in the exact same position Shouto is.
It’s so fucking typical he could laugh.
He punches their door code in and waits for the beep to let him in, and when he steps inside, he sees all the lights are off except for the television, just like always.
It’s a quiet home. Katsuki is loud by default, and Shouto can dial it up when he wants to, but the times when they don’t speak outnumber the rest, and coming home to a completely noiseless apartment has never unsettled him. It just means in his own illogical way that Shouto is here.
He’s home.
He gets to turn off his Dynamight brain, and he doesn’t have to put up with any shitty extras, and he gets to unwind at his own pace, and Shouto is asleep with their cats because the world is right and good and exactly how it should be.
Katsuki takes off the larger pieces of his costume at the door and leaves them on the table they have next to their shoe rack.
Then comes the boots, and he’ll deal with the mud he tracked in with them in the morning. Shouto might wrinkle his nose at it, but at the end of the day, they’re heroes. It’s fucking messy.
He quietly makes his way to the kitchen, stomach growling because he’s been fucking pavloved into expecting food when he comes home, and when he opens the refrigerator, he sees the container there waiting for him with the sticky note on top.
miss you
Fuck.
He doesn’t even eat it. He puts the container back where he found it, and he sets off to find Shouto and kiss his stupid face until his lips fall off because he’s so goddamn in love with him, it makes him insane.
How dare he miss him?
What the fuck.
Katsuki marches towards their bedroom ready to wake the little asshole up for his stupid little sticky note crimes, and he makes it halfway through the apartment before the television flickers against a small patch of white.
He stops and sees Shouto passed out on the couch, in his sleep clothes, at least, but he’s definitely not where he’s supposed to be.
The cats aren’t here with him, probably in bed because they know how late it is. They do what they’re supposed to.
He walks over to him and sits on the edge of the couch at his side, and Shouto doesn’t stir, mouth parted slightly because he sleeps like an idiot.
Katsuki takes his face in hand and gives his cheeks a light squeeze to wake him. Shouto takes a deep breath and blinks his eyes open, and when he sees who it is, the bastard has the audacity to smile.
“You’re home.”
“The fuck are you doing out of bed?”
“I was waiting for you,” he says, half asleep, and Katsuki only hums. No shit, he doesn’t say. Shouto reaches out for Katsuki’s costume and pecks his lips twice as a request.
“Will you cut that out,” he says but leans down anyway because telling him no right now would be a loss for Katsuki personally.
Shouto’s lips are slightly chapped, but each kiss tastes more and more like toothpaste, and close like this he can smell the traces of his just dried shampoo.
Katsuki closes his eyes and lets Shouto and these reminders of what he’s the most like at midnight take his thoughts away from patrols and paperwork to where he needs them to be to sleep tonight.
So far it’s working.
“Did you eat,” Shouto mutters.
“Nah.
He doesn’t have to look to know he’s scowling.
“Why not?”
“Saw your note,” he says against his mouth.
“You should eat.”
“Later.”
“Katsuki.”
“Later.”
Shouto pauses for a moment, his wheels turning through the haze of exhaustion, and Katsuki doesn’t pull away.
“It’s your favorite.”
“Hm?”
“Fuyumi sent me her mapo tofu recipe,” he says, and Katsuki’s stomach growls because it’s a traitor. Shouto grins like he won something.
“Shut up.”
“Eat.”
“La-ter.“
“But you–.”
Katsuki stops him in the only way he can with a kiss purposeful enough to cause Shouto to make a small noise at it. He keeps going, pressing Shouto down into the cushion, and hopes that Shouto’s coconut for a brain catches on before he has to spell out what later means.
He missed him.
Shouto missed him, and he waited
Katsuki has to do something about that, it’s only right.
Shouto takes his face in his hands, pulling him closer, and Katsuki kisses out as many little sounds as he can because this is the only time Shouto isn’t quiet.
Want comes so easy with him, and he’s always been so good at showing it. Like now with every shortened breath and every small hum, Katsuki doesn’t have to guess. He slips his tongue past his lips, and Shouto opens his mouth for him, and as he does, Katsuki reaches back until he finds the rise at his waist.
And there’s something exhilarating about knowing he’s the only person in the world who Shouto has ever wanted to touch him. Millions can dream all they want, but Shouto is his and will be for as long as they fit together.
He doesn’t think that’ll be a problem though.
He palms him, careful teasing touches that have Shouto shifting his hips for more, and Katsuki massages him through his clothes as Shouto’s breaths grow heavier.
“You get off without me tonight?”
Normally he wouldn’t ask because they both do mind their privacy, but this time he wants to know. He needs to.
Shouto did miss him, after all.
He shakes his head that he didn’t, and that’s all the more exciting.
“Good,” he says, and he pulls away to Shouto’s dissatisfaction, but it’s only so he can move down the couch for a better angle.
Shouto watches with curious eyes as he positions himself on the other end, and Katsuki doesn’t look away as he pulls him out of his pajamas.
Shouto’s chest rises, and his eyes fall heavy, and Katsuki bends over again, this time to take him in his mouth.
He’s hard as a rock and already leaking, so he takes it this means he was telling the truth about how much he waited. Shouto’s head rolls back, and Katsuki tucks his lips around him, and he flicks his tongue wherever it can reach. There’s nothing like being home.
And what a picture they must make. Shouto the Fire and Ice Hero in his jammies panting like a virgin on their Ikea sofa, and Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight blowing him without taking his costume off first.
But this is them as they are, and Katsuki does love making Shouto come.
There’s a certain satisfaction he gets in knowing that every orgasm Shouto’s ever had with another person belongs to him, but also, he does it because watching Shouto come undone is one of the best sights in the world. Add those to the reasons why Katsuki is a lucky bastard.
Shouto gasps for him and threads his fingers through his hair, and Katsuki moves over him, lips like a vice until he’s practically milking him.
He swallows around his cock, and Shouto groans, tightening his grip until Katsuki feels him nudging him.
Alright. If that’s what he wants.
Fine.
He relaxes his throat, willing himself to steady his breaths as he lowers himself down further, and when his nose reaches Shouto’s skin, it’s the fuck that about has him losing his mind.
He pulls back, letting Shouto’s cock slide over his tongue before pushing back down, and he slurps loudly around him as his mouth grows too wet, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t dare give Shouto a break, and soon Shouto is arching up for him.
Oh he loves this. He loves when Katsuki takes his cock down his throat, swallowing him whole until he’s completely overwhelmed, and that’s when he hears it.
The honest to god music that pours out from Shouto’s lips as he gets closer and closer to his peak. It’s a mixture of prayers and whimpers, and god, when he gets to Katsuki’s name, Katsuki almost comes himself on the spot.
Tears prick his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. He won’t slow down or take a breath for air, not when Shouto is like this. Not when Shouto feels this good, and it’s his right that he gets to make him this way.
Shouto tightens his grip in his hair, pulling off Katsuki’s pushed up mask, and Katsuki hums for him, pushing him down his throat as far as he can go.
“Please,” he huffs out, and Katsuki knows exactly what he wants.
He pulls off with a loud smack and takes the tip in his mouth while his hand works him faster than his head can. He gets the exact grip Shouto likes, and he fists him while sucking and licking wherever he can, and it makes their apartment loud enough he wonders if the neighbors can hear Shouto panting through the walls.
Shouto keens, eyes squeezed shut, and Katsuki knows he’s only seconds away.
But he’s got his timing down to a science.
He knows by the way his body tightens and the way his thighs tremble beneath him that all he has to do is this.
He sinks down again without a warning, taking Shouto as deep as he can at once, and Shouto comes with a shout, fucking up into Katsuki’s mouth, and Katsuki swallows as much as he can.
Yes, it seems he did miss him quite a bit.
When Shouto collapses, he pulls off again and wipes his mouth before blinking away the tears in his eyes. He allows himself one indignant sniffle, but that’s all Shouto’s getting. No ego boosts for Mr. Cat Pajamas.
Shouto fixes his clothes, and he looks seconds away from falling back asleep.
“That was not what you were supposed to have for dinner.”
“Yeah,” he says, giving Shouto’s thigh a loving squeeze. “Aren’t you glad I’m so nice and waited to eat until after I blew you.”
“Why would I–,” Shouto stops before his eyes widen more than they ever have. Thought so. “Yes, I see.”
“Uh huh.”
“That would have been unpleasant.”
“Woulda had to call the fire department on your ballsack.”
Shouto sits up with a small huff and tucks his face into his neck. “Will you eat now?”
“Yeah,” he says, patting the back of his head.
“I don’t think I saved enough for both of us.”
“Tough shit.”
“You’ll share.”
“The fuck I will,” he says. Shouto makes a small noise, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. “It’s fucking midnight, asshole. You think I’m about to get up and make you a snack?”
“I’ll wash your back.”
“Liar.”
“I do not lie.”
“You’re gonna eat three bites of my tofu and pass the fuck out.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“No, it ain’t.”
Shouto hums, and Katsuki presses a quick kiss to the side of his head, and yes, he’ll make Shouto a stupid snack just because the bastard wants one.
Ridiculous.
He’d like to meet any loser who thinks they’re luckier than he is, because in his mind no one’s got it better.
Except for maybe Shouto.