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“The fuck is that.”
Izuku squirmed on their doorstep, wrangling the tiny, feisty thing in his arms. “A baby, Kacchan!”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes first at the wiggling mass, then Izuku. “…A baby.”
Izuku nodded, breathless. “Our new baby!”
A flash of something hot shot through Katsuki at the words, and he grimaced, shoving the unnamed feeling down. “Get inside already. Where the hell did you get — don’t think for a second that we’re keeping it.”
Izuku bustled in, slipping off his shoes messily in the genkan, dropping first his bag and then his coat on the way to the couch, like a trail of bread crumbs. Katsuki muttered scathingly under his breath as he lined Deku’s shoes up properly, fetched his bag and coat from the floor to hang up by the door.
“Quit leaving your shit around,” he snapped, shoving his hands in his sweatpants pockets as he finally followed Izuku to the couch.
“Sorry Kacchan!! Emergency!!”
Katsuki nearly exploded his pants. “This is NOT—”
They had made a deal, about a month into living together, that neither of them could get mad at the other for being a bad roommate if the violator called Emergency. So far, in the year they’d been living together, three false calls had been made, all of them by Izuku.
The first: “Falling asleep before doing the dishes because you were tired from overworking yourself is not an emergency, nerd. Take better care of yourself or I’ll kill you.“
The second: “Deku. If you insinuate Shinsou’s pathetic crush on you is an emergency ever again, I will explode his entire block.” (Izuku was not happy with him for this one.)
And, newly, the third: “Izuku. A fucking stray you brought home is not an emergency.”
Izuku turned his head up from the bundle in his arms, showing Katsuki his biggest eyes, and in near unison the tiny thing in his arms turned to face Katsuki too, pupils dilated and ears twitching. One of kitten’s paws reached a bit into the air, kneading at nothing, as it purred like a mini motorcycle and slow blinked at Katsuki.
Katsuki hated how his heart twinged a little.
The combined force of shitty Deku’s stupid Bambi eyes and the smallest kitten Katsuki had ever seen was doing horrible things to Katsuki’s heart, and he was only human, so he stomped off to grab an unused blanket from Deku’s closet and a can of tuna from the pantry. Begrudgingly.
When he returned, Izuku was back to petting the stupidly tiny thing, and it purred nonstop, only getting louder as Katsuki approached and knelt by the couch to get a better look at it.
The kitten gave a tiny sneeze, and Katsuki watched the exact moment Izuku’s heart shattered to pieces.
Katsuki winced. Here it comes—
“Can we keep it Kacchan. Please please please please pl—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grouched. He squinted at the fluffy tortoiseshell furball, who appeared to be getting sleepy, since it squinted back.
“Kacchan please she’s so cute. And alone. She was on the street all by herself and I looked for her mom for an hour but I couldn’t find anyone and she was shivering and she’s so cute Kacchan look at her and our therapist says an animal can help with mental health and—”
Izuku finally paused to take a breath, and Katsuki poked his forehead.
“I’ll think about it, dumbass.” He said, feigning reluctance but secretly basking in the way the sun seemed to dawn over Izuku’s face at his agreement, spilling light everywhere. Katsuki’s head hurt.
“Really, Kacchan?” Izuku whispered, made quiet by his pure joy.
Katsuki ignored how his stomach swooped, the traitorous piece of shit. Fuck. Dammit. He hated how much he’d do to make Izuku sound and look like this again and again.
But he had a reputation to maintain, so.
Katsuki grunted irritably, watching the damn thing. They both knew that was as good as caving, coming from Katsuki.
Izuku beamed.
.
.
.
“It’s so fucking small,” Katsuki begrudged, staring at it.
Izuku nodded from next to him. All Katsuki could see of him was his fluffy head in his periphery, their arms pressed together as they both stood with arms crossed, looking down at the couch and the kitten sleeping on it.
He’d gone shopping for supplies last night, alone since Izuku had been terribly anxious about leaving the little shithead by itself — apparently he thought it would fucking kill itself or something — and Katsuki was admittedly weak against a teary Izuku.
Pets were fucking expensive. Who knew a damn fluffball would need this much stuff? And of course Katsuki had bought the good shit, the healthy food and the durable toys and… it was all necessary. Izuku would probably pout at him if he had been stingy over “their baby” anyway.
He’d come home to Izuku asleep on the couch, curled around the newly empty circle of his arms, the kitten settled comfortably on the swell of his hip instead. Little shit.
(He quietly took a picture.)
(Then he scooped the kitten up in one hand so it wouldn’t suffocate under the blanket he threw over Izuku so he wouldn’t wake up cold. The kitten settled comfortably in his hand, completely unaware of the death trap it laid in. He stared at it wordlessly for a moment, then took it to his room. He fell asleep watching its little body rise and fall with its sleep-heavy breathing on his pillow.)
It wasn’t like the little shit was growing on him, or anything. It purred a lot and liked him a bit too much, always settling on his chest or in the crook of his knees. Sometimes he laid on the couch and held it on his chest in his hands, but that was just so he could stare it into submission. He’d read somewhere about making sure your pet knows who the alpha of the house is. He was gonna raise the little bastard right.
Izuku got an odd look on his face whenever he had these intimidation sessions, like he suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands. He’d sometimes freeze up or go pink or run back to his room or wherever he came from. Weirdo. Katsuki pet the kitten’s head with one finger while he thought about it.
Izuku was horribly fussy about the tiny thing, always petting and cooing and calling for Katsuki to come look at what it was doing. Like it wasn’t always going to either be eating or sleeping or batting at a toy. Idiot.
(He always went to see anyway, but that was besides the point.)
Katsuki maintained that he did not want a cat, but this kid was alright, he supposed. Better than any other cat, that’s for damn sure. Any kid of Bakugou Katsuki’s was going to be the best. Even better if they were also a kid of Midoriya Izuku’s.
Wait. He didn’t— that came out wrong, even in his own head. Katsuki cringed at himself, rinsing the water bowl. He filled it and set it down, hiding a smile at the little pat-pat-pat of the shithead padding its way over to its food station in hope of treats. Moron.
Katsuki patted its head and straightened up, heading for their couch to join Izuku in watching the All Might Special reruns that always showed on Thursday nights. They always sat for them together, making awful commentary at people on the screen who would never hear them.
Pat-pat-pat. The little shit followed him dutifully all the way to the couch, jumping nimbly onto the arm of it and waiting for Katsuki to get settled before planting itself in his lap.
Izuku pouted next to him.
“Why does she like you more!”
Katsuki shrugged, scratching under its chin as it purred. “I’m better,” he deadpanned. “It has good taste.”
Izuku mock-glared at him. “You won’t even call her by her name!”
This was true. Katsuki stayed true to calling the thing “the thing,” “bastard,” “ugly rat,” and “little shit,” alongside an array of assorted insults, despite Izuku’s insistence she was named Hatoru. It was his last hold on his stance as anti-pet, dammit.
And it was kind of funny how it pissed Izuku off, especially since he still referred to the bastard as a genderless entity, instead of its fucking apparent preferred pronouns.
(“At least say ‘they,’ Kacchan!” Izuku had whined, adorably cross. “Nah,” Katsuki had responded, holding the cat up to his face with his hands under its arms, “It’s a thing.”)
And maybe it helped to distance the little brat from whatever clouded up inside him every time Izuku referred to the kitten as theirs. Their kid. Their family. She tried fruit for the first time today, Kacchan. She saw her first butterfly today, Kacchan. Kacchan, can you take her for a minute? Kacchan! Want to get her food while I wash this mud off her? Kacchan! Kacchan? Kacchan. Ka—
“Kacchan,” Izuku was calling, teasingly sing-song, leaning in his face with a hint of concern in his eyes. Katsuki shook himself, meeting his gaze. Izuku blinked at whatever look he had on his face, but pressed on, “There you are. Where’d you go?”
Katsuki stared at him.
Izuku stared back, a smile tugging at his lips. “Um. Kaaacchaaaa—”
“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbled, rubbing his face with one hand. Izuku giggled and opened his mouth again immediately, the bastard.
“Kaaaaaacchaaaaaaaaa—”
Katsuki grabbed Izuku by the face and kissed him.
Everything in the world stopped, bubbled down to the singular sensation of Izuku’s lips on his, and Katsuki felt like there was a sun inside of him, and maybe one inside Izuku, too, and the two stars were locked in a dance by gravity and the other ultimate force that held the universe together. He felt that if he gave in any further, he’d collapse in on himself and pull Izuku in too, and he didn’t know what they would become, but he had a feeling it would be something bright.
When he pulled back, Izuku took a second too long to open his eyes, then blinked at him slowly, eyes glazed. His mouth still hung a bit loose, lips shiny and a little swollen already.
Katsuki felt a bit nauseous. But he smirked, smugness warm in his chest like the little brat was sitting in it, purring up a storm.
Speaking of her, she had ambled her way across the back of the couch to Izuku, and was now butting her little head into his slack cheek.
This seemed to finally snap Izuku out of it, and he blinked very quickly, going a sudden, delicious red as he absentmindedly gave the rat the petting she demanded. He swallowed, hard. Katsuki grinned.
Izuku wet his lips anxiously, and for once, Katsuki didn’t stop his gaze from dropping to them to watch.
“Deku.”
“Hm?” Izuku croaked.
“Look at— you’re killing the damn thing.”
Izuku looked down and started, abruptly letting go of Hotaru, who he had accidentally been squeezing too hard. Hotaru beeped at him in affront and leapt to Katsuki’s lap instead.
Izuku cleared his throat, fiddling with his fingers. He was ducking his head, but Katsuki could see the corners of his smile. It made something in him come alight.
Izuku lifted his head, and Katsuki’s breath caught in his chest at how joy lit his face up as if it were a tangible thing glowing behind his cheeks, his eyes. The brightness of his smile.
Katsuki had to shield his eyes, so he held his hands to Izuku’s cheeks, smothered his smile with his own.
“Kacchan,” Izuku managed between kisses, still incapable of shutting up, even now, Katsuki would probably have to fuck that out of him, “Kacchan, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, Kacchan. I can’t believe— you like me too, Kacchan. Ka—cchan, Kacchan, Kacch—”
Maybe Katsuki didn’t mind that much, if Izuku only kept saying his name.
(“What happened?” Izuku asked later, cuddled up in Katsuki’s bed, Hatoru sleep-purring at their feet. “What made you—” kiss me, he’s somehow still too shy to say.
Katsuki kisses him again, just because he can. There was no way he was about to admit it was the damn cat, of all things, that reminded him he had always seen Izuku as synonymous with life partner, even though he’d refused to give much thought to all that entailed.
“Wanted you to be quiet. Realized I had to make you,” he fibs, and it makes Izuku go pink anyway, so it was justified in his book.
He’d tell him later. Much later. Preferably with a ring involved. And maybe another cat.)