“Baby,” Katsuki whines.
He’s currently lying on the floor behind his boyfriend, but said boyfriend won’t pay him any attention.
“Come on,” he tries again, this time wrapping himself around Shouto’s middle. He clings tight, and although he feels rock-solid muscle, he finds that Shouto is very malleable. Very soft. Katsuki likes it, so he burrows his face into Shouto’s side, into the white cashmere sweater.
Because of this, Shouto’s arm finally stops moving, and when Katsuki lifts his head, it’s to Shouto peering down at him.
“What do you want?” The tone isn’t unkind, but Katsuki frowns. Is it so wrong for him to crave his boyfriend’s attention?
He ends up asking this out loud as well, and Shouto just sighs. He puts down his pen and turns around, pulling Katsuki into his lap. The first touch of Shouto’s fingers at the nape of his neck sends shivers down Katsuki’s spine, and he closes his eyes to relish the sensation.
“You don’t have to be so grumpy about it,” Shouto remarks, pinching Katsuki’s cheek as he adds, “nor do you have to pout like that. I don’t even know how you make it work, grumbling and pouting simultaneously.” Shouto then leans forwards, pretending to inspect something before straightening up and telling him, “But I guess it’s just because you’re so adorable.”
Katsuki swats Shouto’s hand aside, glaring at him. Him, cute? Never. Shouto though… When he chuckles like that his eyes shine and crinkle at the corners. And the sound itself… It’s light, and carries through the open room like a symphony, one Katsuki wants playing in his head on repeat. Shouto is the one who’s adorable, with the way he observes a foreign object with confusion; the way he holds his hand to his chin when trying to understand a joke; the way he gets so proud of his antics sometimes, even if they’re at Katsuki’s expense.
“Anyways, you can’t keep distracting me. These documents need to be filled and signed. You have to do yours too.”
The reminder makes Katsuki groan. He never expected being a hero would require so much paperwork. If he had known, he would’ve reconsidered the occupation.
That’s a lie.
And an obvious one, too. When Katsuki first made that complaint to Shouto, he was met with a deadpan stare, an expression that screamed, ‘Bull-fucking-shit’.
Katsuki let out a huff, grumbling, “Fine, you’re right. It’s just annoying. They ask so much shit, it’s like I’m back in school taking a test. And I didn’t think I’d ever have to put pen to paper again after graduating either. Why aren’t these things digital? We save people, but can’t save trees?”
With a shrug, Shouto suggested it was likely for security reasons. He also pointed out that the push for tree-free paper meant they most probably wouldn’t be writing on this same material in a few years’ time. Katsuki didn’t intend for his questions to be taken so seriously, but he was getting used to it. Besides, it was a part of what made Shouto so endearing.
Still, he couldn’t help but sigh.
“Don’t worry.” The assuring tone made Katsuki look up into his boyfriend’s eyes. In them, he saw determination—perhaps too much, given the circumstances. He hoped Shouto didn’t actually think he was hopeless. “I’ll help you. I’ve seen my dad do it a lot; I kind of grew up with all sorts of hero documents around the house.”
Normally, Katsuki would’ve snapped. If this had been a few years ago, he would’ve fired up his quirk, and with explosions going off on his palms, asked whether he looked like he was asking for help. Hell, even now, if it had been anyone else, he still would’ve gotten defensive, asked if the other person saw him as incompetent.
But it was not years ago, and this was not someone else.
It was Shouto, who would’ve never offered to help in the distant past, much less to someone like Katsuki. It was a symbolic thing for both of them, or maybe Katsuki was making it out to be much bigger than necessary, but that didn’t matter.
Because Shouto, although he wasn’t showing it, looked like he really wanted Katsuki to accept. Katsuki believed it had something to do with pride, except not in the cocky, patronising way. The hero industry was one of the few things Shouto had more experience than Katsuki in. That was plain fact. And if he got something out of being able to assist Katsuki, show off a little to someone he liked, so be it. Katsuki would be the same, if the positions were reversed.
Also, whenever Shouto wore that exact expression, Katsuki found it very hard to deny him anything. He just hoped it wouldn’t become a problem in the future.
Katsuki is very glad he has Shouto to help now. Aside from the few nuances that seem to change every year, completing the paperwork itself isn’t entirely difficult. As more time passes, Katsuki has had more practice, and doesn’t spend nearly as long on them. It’s actually remembering to do it that Shouto is responsible for. He takes much more care on this side of things, pays much more attention unlike Katsuki, who wishes he could just blast some villains, rescue some civilians, and be done with the whole shebang.
However, if anyone ever asked Katsuki why he doesn’t take initiative, he’d argue that it’s because Shouto already has the dates ingrained in his memory. And if they brought up the fact that Katsuki has now been doing this for years too, meaning it should therefore be a part of his mental calendar as much as it is Shouto’s, well… They better run fast.
So, when the time comes, Shouto makes them both sit down and fill out the necessary paperwork for their job.
Every now and then the process is quick. Katsuki sits down and does what he needs to efficiently and effectively, even beating Shouto on occasion, which he possibly gets too much satisfaction from. Afterwards, Shouto always rewards Katsuki—a silly thing they started way back in the day, but have continued for no real reason. It wasn’t anything significant, usually just kisses or, after an embarrassing incident which led to Shouto finding out how much Katsuki liked them, cuddles. He spiced things up later on, both literally by giving him his favourite foods, and figuratively by doing certain things they would’ve been more embarrassed about as teenagers.
Every other time, like today, it’s a lot more work getting Katsuki to focus. Shouto will usually try for some time, telling him it’ll be faster if he just gets it over with, but logic does nothing to Katsuki. Then, he’ll start enticing Katsuki with the reward, teasing what it’ll be in a futile attempt to motivate Katsuki. It fails because Katsuki always ends up asking, frustrated, why he couldn’t just reward him now, that that would work better. Shouto obviously doesn’t because that defeats the whole purpose of it, which then defeats using that as a strategy. Eventually, he gives up and just starts on his own.
The thing though, is that when Katsuki doesn’t want to do it, he doesn’t want Shouto to do it either. So, he does everything in his power to distract him. He clings to him; climbs on top of him; drapes himself over him; whatever he can possibly think of to be in his way. Sometimes Shouto will let out a grunt, or shift his position, making Katsuki think he’s won, but then he just goes back to writing. Katsuki has learned it’s not only difficult to break Shouto’s concentration, but also that the whole thing backfires on Katsuki when the man ends up ignores him.
That hurts him, it stings his pride, and he usually ends up sulking in the very corner of the room.
When Shouto finally comes to get him, Katsuki tries his damned hardest to turn away and avoid him, but who is he kidding—how could he deny himself Shouto’s touch?
A thousand peppered kisses and warm coaxings breathed into his skin later, Katsuki decides it’s time to forgive Shouto. He uncrosses his arms and fully leans back onto his boyfriend, who’s already holding him gently.
“You’re like a cat,” Shouto told him once, after Katsuki started nuzzling into his chest.
That made Katsuki freeze, and he turned around to scowl at Shouto, which, judging by Shouto’s laugh, didn’t help his case.
“Come on,” Shouto teased, bringing Katsuki’s body flush with his again, “I like it. It’s very flattering.” Then, after leaning in close to Katsuki’s ear, he added, “You have no idea what it does to me, to know that you,” his hand started trailing down Katsuki’s front, “care so much,” he pressed his lips against Katsuki’s throat.
Katsuki inhaled sharply when Shouto’s fingers snaked under the waistband of his pants, but as quickly as the touch came, it left. In its place, Shouto patted Katsuki’s stomach, twice, and detached himself from him, saying, “Alright, time for you to get back to work.”
He walked back to the table, and Katsuki could only stare after him flabbergasted. Shouto waited for him to process what just occurred, twiddling a pen nonchalantly, but Katsuki had been shocked to the point he couldn’t properly function. Because everything happened so quickly, and because Shouto was showing no sign of the him from a second ago, he was starting to think it was all in his head.
“Were we just…?” Katsuki trailed off, somewhat timid about this situation. “Did you…?” He was trying to gauge Shouto’s reactions, but the bastard wasn’t showing any.
In the end, Katsuki could only obediently return to his position next to his boyfriend, and fill in the paperwork as asked. He did so still feeling dazed, however when Shouto delivered on his earlier promises after the documents were completed, Katsuki started feeling too much—every sensation on his skin, every sound and feeling being drawn out of him. It was good to have an understanding of what was going on around him again, although Katsuki couldn’t say he was entirely lucid. Not when Shouto was teasing him, with his mouth setting a tortuously slow pace, and his hands roaming all over his body.
Every year, Katsuki tries to distract Shouto. Every year, Katsuki fails.
Perhaps Katsuki has finally broken down Shouto’s defences, and the man can no longer resist his charms. Or maybe Shouto has come to realise what Katsuki’s been saying all along, that this is an inane task to be asked of them.
Whatever the reason, Shouto decides to switch things up, and actually slides down onto the floor so he’s lying next to Katsuki on the tatami mats. Katsuki looks at him wide-eyed, surprised by this turn of events, despite wanting it for so long. He honestly isn’t sure what to do—he’s never planned this far because he never thought he would get there.
Lucky for him, Shouto takes the lead.
Shouto threads his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, gently twisting and tugging, pulling it out of its usual explosive state. Now that the imaginary gel has all been removed, it’s subject to gravity, and gathers onto the floor around Katsuki’s head. Some of it falls in front of his face too, and he tries to get it out of the way by blowing through the top of his mouth, but is unsuccessful. Shouto ends up brushing aside the hair for him, pushing it back, revealing his forehead once more.
“You’re such a menace.”
Katsuki wants to scowl, but it’s not easy. Not when the tone Shouto uses makes the word sound like a compliment. Katsuki didn’t even register the insult right away, that’s how lost in it he was.
He’s still somewhat out of it, when Shouto makes his next move. But that’s because he’s being so slow.
Shouto removes his hand from Katsuki’s head, and goes down, down, down, until he reaches Katsuki’s hand. There, he interlaces their fingers, one at a time, so light, so gentle, it takes a moment for Katsuki to react. He reciprocates the action, then squeezes. That makes Shouto smile—a small one, the kind that makes Katsuki’s heart do somersaults, because it’s reserved for himself, but he lets Katsuki see. Shouto then brings their hands towards his lips, and presses a kiss against Katsuki’s knuckles, before looking up at him with fond eyes.
“What am I gonna do with you?”
And there’s that voice again. It sounds sugar sweet, but there’s a playfulness to it. Not to mention the fact that there’s another thinly veiled jab at Katsuki in there. This time though, Katsuki’s on guard. He’s not going to let himself get entranced, and starts to press up against the ground so he can get on top of Shouto, but as much as he’s paying attention, Shouto is more so.
As soon as Katsuki makes the slightest movement towards Shouto, the man pushes on his shoulder and presses him flat against the floor. He then swings a leg over Katsuki’s waist, and sits on top of him. Katsuki considers fighting it, but… this is really comfortable. He decides that if there’s one day he lets Shouto win, it’ll be this one.
The victory grin that makes its way onto Shouto’s face once he realises Katsuki’s relented, however, makes him reconsider. Katsuki misses the smile from earlier. The one he’s looking at right now is his least favourite.
It’s different to Katsuki’s winning grin. Instead of teeth and wickedness, it’s more of a smirk. The right side of Shouto’s lips quirk up, and his right eyebrow raises too. The smugness that comes with it is perhaps more subtle than what Katsuki would exude, but that doesn’t make the expression less cocky. If anything, it makes it worse, because Shouto, for all his confidence and self-assurance, rarely holds that above anyone else. Even back then, back when they were young and immature, despite his shitty attitude, Shouto was never conceited. He simply was better, and he—along with everyone else—knew it.
Now, though. Now that they’ve grown, into themselves and into each other, into the large world that they live in, Shouto has a wide range of expressions to choose from. Katsuki can still remember the first time he saw a real shit-eating grin from the man, who was then still a boy, and how it sent his heart into a frenzy, made him forget how to breathe.
The position they had been in then bears a resemblance the one they’re currently in as well. Shouto had pinned Katsuki to the ground after gaining the upper hand during a sparring match, with his knees on either side of Katsuki’s legs, holding Katsuki’s arm against the small of his back.
Katsuki had meant to sweep Shouto’s back leg—all his weight had been concentrated on the front one—and use his free hand to get up off the ground in order to blast Shouto in the face and get away, but he just couldn’t move.
Unlike Shouto’s grip, which Katsuki could easily break from, it was the expression holding him in place.
He was looking at Katsuki with challenge in his eyes, as if taunting Katsuki to try and break free. He shifted his weight, leaning more into Katsuki, egging him on, but Katsuki wasn’t able to do anything. He knew he had lost the moment he glanced back to look at Shouto.
There was a sheen of sweat covering Shouto’s face, some beads of moisture were trickling down the side, and his bangs were plastered to his forehead. His breathing was heavy—a testament to how hard they fought—and the sleeves of his sports uniform were in tatters, revealing defined, sculpted-out-of-marble arms. They really should stop going all out when they weren’t in their hero costumes; Katsuki was sure the school wasn’t going to be happy with them asking for another set of uniforms, although he couldn’t help but be glad their sparring always escalated, especially when it gave him a view like this.
At some point, as they continued this useless stare-off, a light hit them. Katsuki had no idea where it came from, but it basked Shouto in a very light blue, making him appear otherworldly.
Katsuki lied, earlier. This isn’t his least favourite smile—as if he could ever dislike, or rank, Shouto’s smiles—it’s the one that gets him the most worked up. A part of him wants to do nothing but wipe that grin off his face, show him there’s nothing to be proud of. Another part of him wants to submit, to do anything Shouto asks of him, right then and there. Katsuki loves to have control, but god, if seeing Shouto exude power didn’t make him weak.
Then, the mood suddenly shifts. The smile is gone from Shouto’s face in an instant, and he rests his hands at the base of Katsuki’s stomach, before leaning down to kiss the tip of Katsuki’s nose.
“I love you,” Shouto says after, as he sits back.
Katsuki has no clue where that came from, but he’s not going to ask questions. Instead, he reaches for Shouto’s collar, twists his hand around it, and pulls him down so their lips can meet.
“I love you too,” Katsuki tells Shouto, bringing him closer, tangling their limbs together. He repeats a myriad of ‘I love you’s’ as he kisses the tip of Shouto’s nose back, then his cheek, his scarred eyelid, and the corner of his lips. He loves Shouto for letting him pull him away from his responsibilities, for indulging in him, for everything he does for him.
He loves that the two of them ending up lazily making out on the floor of their study like they have nothing better to do, before settling into each other’s arms to watch the sun set.
The floor-to-ceiling window provides an excellent view, and they watch as the sky gets painted with oranges and pinks, as the first stars start to shine. At some point they’re going to have to get up and move, to have dinner, to sleep in a proper bed. Maybe there’ll be a few more kisses scattered in between too. What doesn’t seem to be on their schedule, however, lies untouched and abandoned on the table less than a few metres away from them.
“Hey Shou,” Katsuki starts, suddenly considering repercussions of their actions, or lack thereof, today.
“Hm?” Shouto turns to face Katsuki, and he’s got the colourful sky behind him, his white jumper making him stand out. It looks like something out of a painting—it’s absolutely beautiful.
“What’s going to happen if we don’t hand those documents in by the deadline?” Katsuki doesn’t actually know when that is, and while he trusts that Shouto didn’t leave it until the last minute, he’s uncharacteristically started to worry.
Even Shouto picks up on it.
“Oh? What’s this?” Shouto throws an arm over Katsuki’s chest, before wriggling closer to Katsuki. He then props up on his other elbow, tilting his head. “I thought this was what you wanted.” He then settles his head right over Katsuki’s heart, and Katsuki’s arm automatically comes up to wrap around Shouto.
This is what he wanted, but… Dammit. He can never resist cuddling, holding Shouto in his embrace, being able to feel every bit of movement, hear every intake of breath. Shouto always smells really nice too. And his hair is always silky smooth. Being able to run his fingers through it is so soothing, and being surrounded by that pleasant aroma is so comforting. Katsuki becomes nothing short of putty when they’re with each other like this. Shouto knows that, and the bastard isn’t afraid to take advantage of it.
Katsuki really can’t mind though. He’s not losing here. With his boyfriend in his arms—the man who’s been able to overcome so much, the hero who is relied on by millions—Katsuki feels like the champion of the world.