Work Text:
Side A.
“ Dynamight, Dynamight. ” Buzzed the intercom in his ear while he was soaring the sunrise sky back to his apartment. “ We’ve got a hazardous situation– ”
“---Fuck.” His stomach dropped. Sensitive or non-clasified situations meant D-listers fucking around. But hazardous! at 5:43 A.M?! Fifteen minutes before the end of his shift? That was new… And fucking troublesome.
His boyfriend, Izuku Midoriya, was one of the most dedicated teachers at U.A. Every morning, he woke up at 6:00 to revise the teaching material. An hour later, he left for work.
Ever since, Katsuki fleed from work early to prepare breakfast: Two fried eggs, rice, veggies and green tea, Izuku’s usual choice. A decent meal, packed with healthy macro-nutrients to feed the fucking industry Izuku had for a brain.
However, when duty called, desires had to be put on hold. Teeth were grit. Work was work.
Unless he wasn’t Katsuki Bakugo.
“Where’s the sitch?” He urged to the intercom, landing clean on a rooftop of the nearest building. While he waited for instructions, Katsuki walked in circles, fingers placed on the intercom. The clock ticked inside his head: he wouldn’t make it on time to cook his boyfriend breakfast, but he could get some store-bought goods…
Ugh. Processed food meant unhealthy fats and way too much sugar for a growing adult. He hated the idea. He had to get done with this situation, quick-
“--- a robbery attempt at Dougen-Zaka 4566, a jewelry store–-“
Katsuki propelled himself through the air as soon as he heard the address. Luckily, it was four miles southwest, a small deviation from his course.
“-two women are held as hostages and two kids are being pointed at with unknown quirk-loaded guns. Quirk-users are disturbing the area and others might be hidden. We have reasons to believe that the yakuza is involved.”
An explosion painted the city red, and he, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, knew how deadly those red and dark grey clouds were. He scowled. Acid brew in the pit of his stomach: he wasn’t gonna make it home.
“Really? At fucking 5 A.M?!”
***
As figured, the apartment was dead silent when Katsuki arrived drenched in sweat and dry blood at 7:06. That hazardous situation was a bit more hazardous than he imagined, given that he faced, alone, fifteen members of Tokyo’s most deathly yakuza and retrieved four difficult hostages.
Izuku must have left five minutes ago. He could smell it in the…
…leftover plate with two fried eggs, tofu, veggies, and rice, that lay on the living table.
His breath hitched. There was even a hint of roasted coffee beans coming from the kitchen. He walked inside to find a mug filled with dark liquid and a note written in neat kanji, one he could recognize everywhere.
See you at the gig tonight.
Love you,
Izuku
Katsuki held the note carefully between his combat gloves. Folded it in half, then in fourth, and placed it inside a tiny pocket in his combat pants: where he used to hide All Might’s Golden-Era card, his lucky token.
Although drenched in a nasty smell and sticky sweat, he grabbed the mug and sipped the coffee, lukewarm to his liking. But if he showered first, the meal his boyfriend had prepared would run cold.
(Plus, hitting the food with the microwave would make the eggs taste soggy and awful.)
So, he walked to the living room, his steps echoing in the solitude. Then, sat in front of the meal Izuku had prepared just for him. The first bite was a bit cold, but the punch that hit his throat with spice made it all worth it, warming his heart with love.
***
Side B.
Izuku huffed at the tenth exam he graded, this time, with a 67/100: although he finally reached half of the pile, the sun was almost setting behind the buildings at the horizon. Hunger growled in his belly as realization struck: he was arriving home late today. The clock hit 19:36 p.m.
He still had ten exams to correct and grades to upload into the U.A. system. And the deadline was tonight !
He would have to stay until the work was uploaded. No time to spare! However, his insides shifted like he was losing balance on the edge of a cliff. Something was nagging him on the back of the head, yet he couldn’t decipher what .
No time to spare! Those thoughts would have to wait: he had exams to grade, work to do… If that migraine stopped penetrating his head, he could have finished earlier! But the pressure was also high, the anxiety of missing the deadline oppressed his chest, constricting his lungs, yet he couldn’t stop reading, reading, reading and marking in red, grading, reading, grading…
“Izuku!”
The scold shook his entire body, and almost got him a heart attack.
“Kacchan! Geez !”
It was then Izuku met his boyfriend standing on Class 1-A’s threshold with a piercing red glare, the one he would scowl when Izuku fucked up.
The nagging on the back of his head turned crystal clear: he forgot about the gig. Jiro invited them to her band’s gig at the neighborhood bar, which was the perfect excuse for a date . Izuku closed his eyes, he couldn’t face Katsuki and the Bordeaux shirt that pumped his round shoulders, the black trousers worn on special occasions, the glancing shoes his mom gifted him last Christmas…
Shit… Shit, shit, shit, shit…
It was 19:36 and the gig started at 21:00. He was not gonna make it, all due to the…
“ Izuku ,” Katsuki called, no hint of menace behind the careful whisper. A pair of hands held his shoulders, and Izuku gave in, locking eyes with Katsuki’s worried glance. “What’s going on?”
Katsuki should be mad, he had all the right to! Yet he had walked all the way to where he sat and kneeled to lock eyes with him. The pain in his chest softened, and Izuku lunged to hug him tight.
“Got behind with some corrections, still gotta upload the grades to U.A’s system which closes at nine and I’m ten exams behind, and Jiro’s gig starts in, I don’t know, an hour!?—”
“Okay, relax ”, Katsuki stroked his hair, but didn’t manage to lull the heavy breathing caused by his anxiety. Katsuki seemed to notice, because he stood up, scowled at the amount of work laying on the teacher’s table and then grabbed the pile he had graded. “Tell me where to upload this shit and get it done with.”
Izuku shook his head, now guilt tightening his throat: “No, no, no, Kacchan, you can’t—” But the blonde didn’t let him take the exams away. He grabbed the nearest chair and sat in front of Izuku with the graded exams in hand.
“ At least let me help you” He said like it was the most reasonable thing to do.
“But Jiro—”
“This is not her last gig.” Katsuki side-eyed, as he texted on his phone with his left hand and held the exams with his right: The war turned him ambidextrous. “She’ll understand.”
Izuku felt numb, as he watched Katsuki text Jiro that they might not be able to make it, or that they would arrive late, and she would be disappointed and—
“Shut your fucking brain up”, Katsuki said, serene, with no trails of hate but his usual empty words. “You’re annoying,” his red crimons glistened, the joke, bright.
But Izuku couldn’t answer: his throat was knot tight.
“I am here when you can’t handle it on your own. Don’t you forget it.”
Izuku stilled. He watched his boyfriend send the text message. And then, he breathed.
***
The clock hit 20:53 when Katsuki uploaded the last grade and Izuku whined in victory. Katsuki caught the nerd who threw his arms around him and started peppering thank you kisses all over his face.
“See? We fucking made it.”
“ We made it.” Izuku was happy, straddling Katsuki in bridal style. He kissed him deep.
“...Still wanna go to Jiro’s gig?”
But his limbs weighted heavy, like, a ton. He struggled to get his eyes open.
“I…” He bit his lip. On the one hand, he felt bad to deceive her, but on the other…
“I told her we might not be able to make it.” Katsuki whispered, like music to his ears.
“I can’t. I would- But-”
“You’re tired. It’s fine.” Katsuki kissed his temple. “You had a long day” He lingered there for a bit. Izuku drank in his cologne. Butterflies flying all over. “Let’s go home, ‘kay?”