Work Text:
The feeling of solitude isn’t always bad. Sometimes, solitude is where some of the most precious things in life happen.
The night was quiet, a blanket made of the abyss draping over the city, twinkles of light where the stars were supposed to be eliminated by light pollution. Outside his window, a labyrinth of alleyways and street corners was illuminated in a neon swirl of color, some parts of the city covered in cooler or warmer tones than others. The city at night brought a unique vibe, like every life encased in these buildings suddenly seemed so much more constructed, separated, appreciated. Acknowledged. Each one suddenly seemed a little more personal, a little more distinctive and distinguishable from one another. The world was so busy during the day, so selfish, so self-centered, that no one really bothered to pay attention to anything else. But the night opened up new opportunities. The night was full of solitude for many, and it was Eijiro’s absolute favorite.
In reality, he wasn’t in complete solitude. His husband was next to him, under the covers and producing soft snores and occasionally twitching in his sleep. It was a precious sight to see no worry lines on Katsuki’s resting face, and Eijiro wished the man would roll over so he could see it and admire his beauty without the man scowling and deepening the creases in between his eyebrows.
His husband was here, but he had drifted off with the rest of the world at around nine. That man could barely stay up past eight most nights. The thought brought a small smile to Eijiro’s chapped lips.
It was one of those later nights, where he just couldn’t seem to close his eyes and focus on sleeping if he tried. Eijiro didn’t quite mind - neither of them had work tomorrow, so they could stay in bed for as long as their growing disappointment in themselves allowed them to. So Eijiro, eyes burning but body refusing to sleep, picked up a book he’d read three times already from the shelf in the corner, and laid back in bed, reading with the soft lamp light that didn’t quite reach the corners of their bedroom.
The distant sounds of the city slowly drifted away from Eijiro as he once again became engrossed in the plot of a book that he knew by heart. It had been a while since Eijiro had read an actual, physical book. Turning the pages felt nice to him - a nice refresher of a younger time.
He was just reading the end of the eighth chapter when something strange occurred.
The figure lying in bed next to him moved - nothing unusual - and rolled over to scoot closer to him. A lazy hand wrapped around Eijiro’s waist - sweet, but nothing unusual - and hugged him close, a mix between a hum and a groan leaving his husband’s lips. A nose sleepily nuzzled against Eijiro’s arm - adorable, but nothing unusual - and then-
“Babe, could you please turn down the brightness of your skin?”
It was like a balloon popped in a quiet library. Like a TV being shut off and the people in the home not being used to the absence of background noise. A single sentence seemed to bring the peaceful solitude of the night to an unexpected halt. The world seemed to hush around him, even the distant sounds of the city going mute, and the silence suffocated him. Absolute and utter confusion poured into him like he was a goddamn tea pitcher, and more confusion flowed over him when no more words came. Just that sentence. Just that very perplexing sentence that almost made sense.
Eijiro blinked at the wall opposite of him, then his red gaze slowly turned down to scan over his husband.
“Babe?” Eijiro whispered. “Are you awake?”
A beat of silence, and then-
“Probably.”
What the fuck does that mean?!
Eijiro gawked at him, blinking harshly at Katsuki’s face to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. It was like the world had suddenly turned itself inside out, everything an odd mix of normals and opposites. The city hadn’t changed outside, and yet the Eijiro felt the entire weight of the world shift, but maybe it was just their bedroom. The vibe of the night changed, and Eijiro didn’t even think the words to describe it existed.
His husband’s eyes were still swiveling around behind his eyelids. His breathing was still deep and rhythmic. His fingers even occasionally twitched against Eijiro’s side. Eijiro had half a mind to call it sleep talking simply because the man had said the word ‘please.’ Eijiro couldn’t for the life of him remember the last time Katsuki was uttered the word ‘please,’ to anyone.
A wobbly smile played on Eijiro’s lips, and it became more genuine the longer the silence stretched on. He let out a soft, breathy chuckle as he shut the book in his hands and sat it on his nightstand. His mind wandered to countless places while trying to imagine what find of dream was running through Katsuki’s mind for that sentence to come about. He wondered if the light from the bedside lamp had anything to do about the brightness of his skin.
A smile still on his face, Eijiro switched off the lamp and turned on his side to face his husband’s sleeping form. He wrapped an arm around Katsuki’s waist and pulled the man closer, placing a hand in his spiky hair and rubbing small circles into his scalp. Katsuki pushed against the touch, snuggling a little closer.
Eijiro closed his burning eyes. Man was he excited to ask Katsuki if he remembered anything tomorrow morning.
+
The familiar four beats of music at the start of a race on Mario Kart sounded throughout the living room, and every player leaned forward in anticipation to get the best running start.
The room was dark except for the light of the television bathing the walls and floors with flashing colors. A warm sandy color washed over them as they raced each other on Dry Dry Ruins, complimenting Denki’s golden hair and giving Mina an almost ethereal look. Hanta grinned at the screen as he took over first place, a darker tone strengthening the shadows in his hair as they all drove into a dark, desolate temple. Denki let out an annoyed but determined ‘tch,’ as Hanta took the lead.
But even though the gang was usually quite loud and overbearing when playing video games, they all had a need to be extra quiet tonight. Even Mina was keeping the volume under wraps, and she was usually the loudest one unless one of them got on Katsuki’s nerves.
No, the whole gang was hyper aware of their newfound duty to keep the volume low, because there was a sleeping Katsuki on the couch behind them. His head was nestled in Eijiro’s lap, the rest of him curled up in a cute little ball facing the television. The sandy color the screen emitted bathed him and made his pale complexion glow, a stark contrast against the black, fuzzy blanket covering him. The light made complicated shadows in his hair, an elaborate puzzle made of soft spikes and pretty highlights. One of his arms dangled over the edge of the couch and rested against Eijiro’s legs, face rested and peaceful.
Katsuki had had a migraine earlier in the day, the pain staying with him throughout the late afternoon when the gang had come over. He’d refused any attempts on getting him to play Mario Kart, but he said he’d lie down and watch. He predictably passed out at around eight, and Momma Mina had protected him from any attempts of Denki pranking the poor man.
They’d turned the volume down on the television and managed to find the settings for the Wii-motes so the damn things wouldn’t scream at them when they’re being chased by a turtle shell. And overall, they’re doing pretty good on the noise department. Eijiro was honestly impressed.
Eijiro was also impressed on the world’s timing, because as soon as the race ended and Hanta and Denki waged a war of vaguely angry hand gestures, it happened again.
Small, barely audible mumbles came from the resting man in his lap, and Eijiro seriously felt like the planets were aligning for this or some shit.
He very passionately motioned for Mina to mute the television, shushing Denki and Hanta with a silent pointer finger over his lips. They all obliged in a rather confused fashion, wondering if they’d woken the angry blond and were about to meet their untimely deaths.
With the television muted, and the room completely silent, Eijiro pointed down at the head in his lap, and then mouthed the word listen. The Three Dipshits (Katsuki’s words, not his) looked at the sleeping blond, blinking and unmoving, waiting for an unknown. Katsuki’s toes twitched at the other end of the couch. The clocked ticked on the wall. Hanta shifted.
The mumbling started again. Hushed, and incoherent. Words slurred together and the strings of them Eijiro could make out not making much sense without context. Katsuki’s voice was somehow deeper in his sleep, and sounded a lot like that husky, gravelly tone he talks with when he had just woken up and demanded a cup of coffee.
Denki blinked up at Eijiro. “What is he saying?” he whispered as quietly as possible.
Eijiro shrugged and shook his head, then motioned for him to keep listening. He’d been waiting for this day for a while. Eijiro hadn’t heard Katsuki sleep talk since that first incident, and he was a little bummed out about it. He’d told the gang about it the very next time he saw them, and Hanta and Denki hadn’t believed him. Mina had wanted to see it, and asked if he got any video. His lack of evidence proved to be insufficient in convincing them, and Eijiro couldn’t really blame them. It was an odd sight to see, the Katsuki Bakugo curled up in a little ball, muttering nonsense in his sleep - it was one of those, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” kind of things.
But here it was. At long last. This is why Eijiro felt as though the planets were aligning for this specific event. It’d been driving him crazy, not having a single lick of evidence except for his own memories. It was like having a heated discussion with friends about something so stupid you shouldn’t even care about it, but dammit, you’re right and they’re wrong and now you’re too invested in it to give up and the next thing you know you’re turning to anything for help and-
“Yeah, can I have a ticket to everywhere?”
The world stopped, and everyone in the room seemed to take in a breath and not let it go. Several beats of silence ensued, and nothing else came. The only evidence of time passing was the clock ticking on the wall, and the blinking buttons on the pause screen on Mario Kart.
Hanta let an incredulous grin spread across his face. “Holy shit, you weren’t lying!” he hissed under his breath.
Eijiro nodded vigorously. “Why would I lie, dude?! I swear! I swear to God!”
Mina put a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles. “ ‘Ticket to everywhere’ - what does that even mean?!” she whispered.
Denki lightly slapped his leg as he silently laughed, holding up his phone and presumably taking video.
Eijiro grinned. “Hold on- lemme see if he answers,” he whispered, and raised his voice just a tiny bit. “Kat? You awake?”
Silence. Silence. More silence. A giggle from Denki as his fingers pinched the screen to zoom in on Katsuki’s face. He was almost sure the whole ordeal was done until-
“Hello?”
Like he was answering a phone call. Denki let out a snort that he tried to contain, and Mina barely had her giggles under control. Hanta was now hovering over Denki’s shoulder, trying to muffle his laughter as Denki zoomed in further on Katsuki’s sleeping face.
Eijiro grinned triumphantly down at Katsuki and settled a hand in his hair. He’d finally gotten the others to see it, and once again, he wondered what kind of strange dream Katsuki was having to be talking about getting a ticket to ‘everywhere.’
Eijiro laughed along with them, Mario Kart completely forgotten as they all watched the video Denki had taken back, laughing all over again after it ended.
+
The next time Katsuki talked in his sleep, it wasn’t so entertaining.
The blanket made of the abyss draped over the city a little tighter tonight, almost suffocatingly. Eijiro couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. It felt too hot in here. The walls felt a little closer than usual. His heart felt a little heavier, thudding a little louder in his ears. Each distant sound of the city outside seemed louder than the last, too. He was in solitude, but he didn’t like it this time. Something was off. Something was wrong, but Eijiro didn’t know what, and it made him on edge. Every little noise from an apartment next door sent his muscles tensing, his bones tingling, and the only thing keeping him sane was the steady rise and fall of his husband’s chest next to him.
Eijiro stared out the window of their bedroom, the silhouette of Katsuki’s spiky hair comforting him more than he’d like to admit. Eijiro let their legs mingle, Katsuki’s warm skin burning Eijiro’s cold feet as a truck horn honked outside. The lights of the city filtered through the window, illuminating the bed in a dim mix of yellows and blues. The silence brought on a ringing in his ears, a constant roar of a sound Eijiro couldn’t say for sure was an actual sound, but it nevertheless plagued his mind and made him want to grind his teeth together.
Eijiro wasn’t quite sure when, but Katsuki started twitching a little more than usual.
The man usually twitched in his sleep. It was just a thing he did, and it was never violent jerks or anything, and it never really bothered Eijiro. But this time they were a little more quick and sudden, and a little stronger.
Katsuki was close enough for Eijiro to feel his hot breath on his neck, and the breaths slowly but surely became a little more uneven. The arm hooked around Eijiro’s waist moved a little, fingers twitching and moving against Eijiro’s bare chest like he was trying to scratch him.
“Hide…”
Eijiro blinked up at the ceiling, his mind somehow stiffening. It was probably the single creepiest word Katsuki could’ve said at one in the morning with all of the lights off, but it was also one of the most concerning. This time, Eijiro didn’t feel a wave of excitement and giddiness at Katsuki sleep talking. This time he felt… worried. He felt as if he wasn’t allowed to be excited for this.
His husband’s toes twitched against Eijiro’s cold skin, and the poor man let out a tiny, tiny whimper. It sounded as if it was barely able to escape his throat, and it was raspy and croaked. His breathing turned shaky and rough, as if he were in the midst of a battle.
Eijiro didn’t really need to guess what was going on here. They’d both dealt with it before. Most, if not all, of Class A had been plagued with nightmares and terrors in school. Back in the dorms, you’d occasionally hear a sudden loud gasp and short scream muffled through the walls and floors, shortly followed by a series of taps the class had morphed into code for “no villain attack, just a dream,” to ease the conscious of any listener.
Katsuki had had a lot of nightmares back then. Nearing the end of their second year, around the time they’d finally sorted things out and gotten together, they’d had more and more sleepovers to the point that Eijiro barely even lived in his own room anymore. And every other night Katsuki would wake up in Eijiro’s arms with a gasp, sometimes a scream, and shake the bed with his tremors, tiny balls of light popping in his palms. Eijiro would hold him close and whisper comforting words in his ears, raking his hands through his sweaty hair and letting the boy cry into his shoulder. Eijiro would have them too, just much less frequently, and Katsuki would always return the favor, even when they weren’t sleeping together. He’d always hear him through the wall, barge into Eijiro’s room, and furiously hug him until he felt better.
They were bittersweet memories.
Katsuki kicked against him, a throaty whine escaping him as he turned his head further into his pillow as if to hide his face. The smell of sweet caramel and burnt sugar wafted up to Eijiro’s nose, and he gently grabbed both of Katsuki’s hands and hardened his skin, muffling the tiny pops of explosions his love released in an attempt to defend himself in his dreams.
A worried frown tugged at Eijiro’s lips as he sat up in bed, staring at Katsuki’s resting features. The lights from the city shining through the window gave him a bit to work with, and he could just make out the scrunched up eyebrows on his love’s face, the sweat glistening off his forehead. He always hated when Katsuki had nightmares. His love always looked so upset in his sleep. So scared. It was odd seeing Katsuki like that. It brought a heavy feeling in his chest, a strong urge to protect and care for him.
But just as Eijiro moved forward to gently shake him awake, Katsuki uttered out another slurred string of words.
“Please… don’t hurt him…”
A pool of sympathy poured into his soul at the words, at the facial expression his husband made, and at the beginnings of tears rolling down his love’s face and soaking his pillow. It was a heart wrenching sight to see such a strong, manly person curl into themselves and cry in their sleep, fighting off demons and trauma with nothing but his bare hands.
Katsuki’s head twisted to the side, hands jerking in Eijiro’s hold as explosions louder than the previous little pops rumbled Eijiro’s palms. Two bright balls of light flashed, blinding sections of it escaping from the cage made of Eijiro’s hardened fingers. They scorched the room in muted color, and that’s when Katsuki bolted upright in bed.
The poor man fought against Eijiro’s hold on his hands in jerky motions, a strangled sob escaping him as he let out a barely coherent, “GET OFF!”
Eijiro quickly let go of one of Katsuki’s hands, now using his free hand to cup the man’s jaw and persuade his head to look at him.
“Hey! Kat- it’s okay! It’s jus’ me,” Eijiro eased, glad to hear the pops dying down almost immediately. “It’s jus’ me, babe. You’re alright…”
The look in Katsuki’s eyes was the same look Eijiro was forced to see every time he had one of these. Haunted. Scared out of his fucking mind. His whole body was rigid, on the highest alert a human could possibly be, his panicked gaze darting to and fro and palms ready to strike. He always looked like a cornered animal, and it always broke Eijiro’s heart.
Eijiro thumbed away the tears running down Katsuki’s chubby cheek, giving him a gentle, loving smile. “It was just a dream, Kats,” he whispered, voice soft and velvet.
A shaking, sweaty hand went up to grip Eijiro’s wrist, and Katsuki’s face twisted from absolute fear, to absolute frustration and pent up tears. He let out a choked sob, and Eijiro moved in for a hug.
Katsuki collapsed into Eijiro’s warm embrace, arms wrapping him in a loose cage of muscle meant to be vice-like, but instead was wobbly and weak. He sobbed into his husband’s chest, no shirt to soak up the messy tears, but neither of them cared. Eijiro simply rocked them back and forth, raking his fingers through soft ashen spikes and holding his dear love close as he hummed.
The song of the city resonated through their bedroom until the man in his arms was only sniffling and hiccuping. He kept his face hidden in Eijiro’s shoulder, and the redhead didn’t make him move, either. He knew Katsuki didn’t like anyone seeing him cry. He’d let him have the comfort of hiding his face, at least.
Eijiro stared out into the city, admiring the way the streetlights reflected off the wet roads, painting jagged lines of bright green, yellow, and red across the pavement. He hummed a song he couldn’t remember the name of, rocking his love back and forth and rubbing soothing circles into his back.
Eijiro rested a cheek against Katsuki’s spiky hair. “You were talking in your sleep again.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to say it, or perhaps it was. Eijiro didn’t really know. Katsuki stayed silent for a moment before he gave a watery grunt in response.
“What’d I say?” he asked, voice crackling and unsteady.
Eijiro raked his fingers through Katsuki’s hair a little quicker. “Well… the first thing you said was ‘hide.’ And then you… you said ‘please don’t hurt him.’”
It was silent for a while after that, and Eijiro fretted that it’d been the wrong time. That is, until Katsuki tightened his loose hold on him and snuggled closer against his warm skin.
“... Yeah,” he replied lamely. “I uh… they were tryin’ t’ hurt you. They did hurt you.”
Eijiro gave their window a sad look and reciprocated the tighter hold. “It’s okay, babe. I’m okay. And you are too, alright? We’re both here, and alive, and breathing. And we’re okay.”
Katsuki gave the tiniest of nods, and hugged harder.
+
The next sleep talking incident was by far Eijiro’s favorite.
Instead of moonlight and the city shine filtering through the living room window, the sun’s afternoon rays shone through and gave their apartment a bright pop. The television was on, playing a movie Eijiro vaguely remembered the name of. It barely managed to hold his short attention span, but Eijiro had something else to stare at anyway.
The sun’s golden rays captured his husband in a gorgeous way, illuminating certain spots of his figure in a heavenly glow and making his pale skin shine. His feet draped over the arm of their couch while the rest of his body made its home on top of Eijiro, torso on his legs and head resting on the redhead’s stomach. A pale arm draped over the edge of the couch, knuckles just barely touching the carpet as another arm snaked around Eijiro’s middle in a loose hug.
A scarred, tanned hand raked through ashen spikes, his husband’s hair glowing a soft cream color as the sun’s rays shone down on him. Katsuki’s chest rose and collapsed with deep, even breaths, black skull shirt soaking in the sun.
When Katsuki was asleep, and Eijiro was awake, the vibe of their home changed. It wasn’t often a bad change - usually, it just became quieter, and Eijiro was left with his thoughts and his solitude, and sometimes that’s what he needed. But sometimes, he’d get a little lonely. Sometimes Katsuki took a quick power nap on the couch, or he’d clock out a little early, and Eijiro would feel a tinge of disappointment. But he never woke Katsuki. The blond needed his beauty sleep, or else he’d probably be cranky (more so than usual).
But this time, he wasn’t lonely. How could he be? He had Katsuki right here in his lap, and with the sun shining down on him like he was an angel (a very angry angel), he was more beautiful than ever.
Eijiro loved moments like these. These soft, soft moments, where it was just them, and the world around them meant nothing. It was just them, together. And Eijiro would do just about anything for it to stay like this.
A small snore came from the sleeping beauty in his lap, and Eijiro couldn’t stop the happy smile he wore. An overwhelming wave of affection crashed over him, like he’d just noticed his love all over again, and he was a lovesick highschooler once more. It confused him, but at the same time, he loved it. He loved him . He loved him so much. And Eijiro wasn’t sure why - Katsuki was asleep, after all - but he felt the need to tell him.
Eijiro gave a happy sigh, resting his head against the back couch cushions and giving the man in his lap a loving look. “I love you,” he whispered.
And then, to Eijiro’s absolute and utter surprise, Katsuki stirred in his sleep. The arm loosely hooked around Eijiro’s middle tightened, pulling him a little closer, and he gave a soft, sleepy sigh, and-
“I love you too.”
Eijiro gawked down at him. There’s no way. There’s no way he’s asleep. There’s no-
Another snore sounded throughout the apartment, and Eijiro was dumbfounded.
How did he-? How did- there’s no way. There’s no way.
Eijiro blinked at the wall, his face as red as his hair. His smile grew wider, and he suddenly had the urge to hug his husband close and never let go.
The redhead looked down at Katsuki - known to the public as an angry devil, and to his husband as a sleep talking big softie - and gave the man a soft, loving smile, and hugged him close.
Maybe Eijiro wouldn’t tell Katsuki about this one. Maybe it would be Eijiro’s and Sleeping Katsuki’s little secret.