Chapter Text
The faint rhythm of metal against ceramic echoed in the kitchen
clack, clack, clack.
Katsuki’s hand moved steadily, whisking eggs with a pair of wooden chopsticks. The yolks swirled into a rich golden mix, smooth and velvety, tiny air bubbles forming along the edges. The sizzling sound of the preheated pan on the stove filled the awkward silence.
The kitchen was illuminated by the soft, yellow light from the hanging lampshade above, casting a warm glow against the black marble countertops, accompanied by the harsh sunlight that came from the window. The faint scent of soy sauce and green onions lingered in the air, faint traces of the miso soup simmering nearby.
Katsuki’s broad shoulders were hunched slightly, his gray t-shirt wrinkled at the edges. Scars and tattoos trailed along his right arm catching the light as he moved..
Behind him, his mother watched quietly. Mitsuki sat at the kitchen island with her elbows propped on the counter, chin resting on her palm. She had that look again, half irritation, half curiosity, the one she always had before she poked into something he didn’t want to talk about.
“Katsuki, love, why don’t you bring Izuku over for dinner sometime?” she said suddenly, her tone deceptively light.
The chopsticks froze mid-whisk.
Katsuki blinked once. Then twice.
His body tensed as if someone had set a grenade under his feet. He didn’t turn around right away; instead, he focused on the yellow mixture in front of him, whisking again, slower this time.
“Why?” he asked quietly, trying to sound casual, but his voice wavered just enough to give him away.
“He hasn’t been to our house in ages, plus I haven’t seen you two together in the same room unless it’s a photoshoot or on TV,” Mitsuki replied, her tone sharpening.
“You’re never together anymore.”
Katsuki could feel her frown from behind him. The air between them thickened, like steam in a closed room.
He sighed through his nose and turned around, his expression guarded.
“So? What do you care?”
His words came out rougher than intended, eyebrows arched like he was ready for a fight.
Mitsuki scoffed, a sharp sound that cut through the still air.
“Are you serious? I haven’t seen you two this distant since middle school!”
That struck him.
Katsuki’s mouth went dry. His hands twitched, and for a second, he thought about the past, about a stupid green-haired kid who used to follow him everywhere.
Deku, stop crying.
You’re so damn annoying.
Go take a swan dive off the roof of the building.
His stomach twisted.
He blinked rapidly and forced himself to look away, returning to the counter as if it were a lifeline. He placed the bowl down a little too hard, the soft sound of ceramic against marble breaking the heavy silence. Leaning against the counter, Katsuki crossed his arms and took a deep breath.
“Look, ma,” he began, voice calmer this time, though still rough around the edges.
“The nerd’s just really busy. He’s been through a lot. Hero work, teaching at that damn school, meetings, training rookies, he barely sleeps.”
His tone softened as his eyes drifted toward the wooden floor.
“He’s got enough on his plate…we talk, more than you think.”
Mitsuki studied her son quietly, her sharp features softening for a moment. There was something in the way Katsuki said those words, almost defensive, but threaded with concern, guilt even.
“Hmm,” she hummed at last, too tired to argue.
Katsuki exhaled, turning back to his pan. The sound of eggs sizzling filled the air, the smell instantly nostalgic. He stirred the mixture gently, letting it puff into a soft, golden omelet. His mind wandered again, this time unwillingly.
________
The bells over the café door chimed softly as it opened.
A short woman with green hair stepped inside, the familiar scent of roasted coffee beans and caramel greeting her like an old friend. The quiet hum of jazz played from a speaker in the corner, blending with the faint clinking of ceramic mugs.
Inko smiled as she took in the cozy sight, wooden tables lined neatly against the brick walls, warm light spilling across the floor. Her eyes darted around until she spotted a head of blonde hair near the window, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
“Mitsuki!” she called, her voice bright as she approached the table.
The blonde woman looked up from her reading, breaking into a grin. “Inko, I’m so glad you could make it.”
They greeted each other warmly, as they always did, exchanging a light hug before sitting down. A waitress passed by to refill their cups, the smell of espresso hanging thick in the air.
As Inko adjusted her bag beside her chair, her eyes wandered across the table. A folded pamphlet lay there, partly covered by Mitsuki’s reading glasses. The elegant text printed across the glossy paper caught her attention.
Aman Kyoto.
Her eyes widened slightly. “Are you planning on traveling, Mitsuki?”
Mitsuki raised her brows, realizing she’d been caught.
“Actually…” she began, trailing off.
She looked around the café, as if to make sure no one else was listening. Then her crimson gaze met Inko’s green, the corner of her mouth curling up slightly.
“I was planning on bringing you and the boys.”
Inko’s hand flew to her chest, utterly surprised.
“Oh my goodness! I-I don’t even know what to say…” Her mind immediately filled with images, quiet temples, gardens, lanterns reflected in still water.
“What did the boys say?”
That was when Mitsuki’s smile faltered.
“The boys don’t know,” she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I already bought four tickets. Masaru can stay behind and take care of the house, and Katsuki’s cat.”
Inko blinked.
“What?” she whispered.
Mitsuki leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.
“I’ve noticed how they’ve grown apart. Ever since they became heroes, it’s like they’re on different planets. I mean, they barely even talk, Inko. You’ve seen it too, haven’t you?”
Inko sighed, stirring her coffee absentmindedly.
“I have. They were so close once… they used to eat lunch together, train together. Now, even if they’re in the same room, they act like strangers.”
“Exactly,” Mitsuki said, snapping her fingers in agreement.
“They need a damn break, away from work, away from fans, away from all the nonsense. Just them. Us. Like old times.”
Inko smiled, the idea settling warmly in her heart. “So what’s the plan? You’ll just drag them to the train station without saying anything?”
Mitsuki smirked, eyes glinting mischievously.
“Precisely.”
The two women burst into quiet laughter, earning a few amused glances from other patrons.
When their laughter faded, a brief silence lingered, not awkward, but reflective.
Inko glanced out the window, watching the drizzle outside blur the city lights. “Do you think they’ll even agree to go once they find out?”
Mitsuki shrugged. “If I have to tie Katsuki up and throw him on that train myself, I will.”
Inko giggled softly. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m a mother,” Mitsuki corrected, lips curling into a grin.
“And I’m not letting those two idiots ruin one of the best friendships I’ve ever seen.”
She looked down at the pamphlet again. The image of Kyoto’s bamboo forest stretched across the glossy page, serene and green. For a moment, Mitsuki imagined Katsuki and Izuku walking through that path, maybe arguing, maybe not, but together again.
That thought alone made her chest feel lighter.
________
Katsuki stood on his apartment balcony, the cool night breeze brushing against his skin.
The city stretched out before him in a cascade of glittering lights and restless noise, but he wasn’t really seeing it. His arms rested on the railing, knuckles pale from the quiet tension he didn’t know how to release. The hum of traffic below rose and fell like waves, and for a moment, it was almost comforting, steady, predictable, unlike the turmoil in his chest.
“It’s late,” Izuku’s voice called softly from behind him.
The sound of the sliding glass door opening broke the stillness. When Katsuki didn’t respond, Izuku stepped closer, the faint shuffle of his socks on the floor almost drowned out by the wind.
“Kacchan? You should come inside. It’s getting cold.” Izuku frowned, adjusting his hoodie to accommodate the cold breeze.
Katsuki didn’t move right away. His jaw flexed as he stared at the skyline.
“Just a bit longer, baby.” he muttered, voice rough around the edges.
Izuku’s brows scrunched together, sensing the heaviness lingering around him. He knew that look, the quiet brooding Katsuki tried to disguise as indifference.
Without another word, Izuku slipped his arms around Katsuki’s waist, his cheek pressing gently against the blonde’s back. The warmth between them softened the chill of the air. Katsuki tensed for a second before exhaling, his shoulders easing under Izuku’s touch.
For several minutes, they just stood like that. The world around them buzzed with life, but their little balcony felt like an island of silence. Finally, Katsuki shifted, turning around so they were face to face. Izuku’s arms found themselves on Katsuki’s shoulders, tilting his head up to stare into those crimson eyes.
“Was at Mom’s today,” Katsuki said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Izuku blinked, caught off guard. “Your mom’s?” he repeated, raising a brow at the man.
There wasn’t anything unusual about that, Katsuki visited her often, even if he pretended he didn’t care.
“Did something happen?”
Katsuki hesitated, his eyes drifting down to where Izuku’s hands rested.
“She talked about us,” he sighed, his tone unreadable.
Izuku’s heartbeat stumbled. His fingers unconsciously tighten their hold.
“W-what did she say?”
“She just asked why we never talked. Or hang out much anymore.”
Katsuki’s gaze flickered away, toward the dark stretch of the sky.
“Said it was weird, considering how close we used to be.”
“Oh.”
Izuku nodded slowly, trying to process the simple statement that somehow felt like it carried more weight than it should.
The air between them grew heavy again, thick with words neither of them had said.
“Do you…” Izuku started, his voice small.
“Do you ever wanna…tell them? About us?”
Katsuki’s breath hitched. His eyes met Izuku’s, earnest, searching, uncertain.
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “But–”
“But?” Izuku cut in, a flicker of frustration in his tone.
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.
“What would they say? I don’t care about the media or the fans or any of that crap, they’ll find out eventually anyway. But your mom? My parents?” He laughed bitterly.
“God, she probably hates me for all the shit I’ve done to you.”
The words hit Izuku like a blow. His mouth parted in disbelief.
“How can you say that?” he asked, voice trembling.
“She practically adores you, Kacchan. She always has. You know that.”
Katsuki’s eyes softened, guilt flickering there.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Every time I think about her finding out about us, I just freeze. Like I’m fifteen again, screwing things up before I even start.”
Izuku shook his head, eyes stinging. “You’re not that kid anymore,” he said firmly.
“You’ve grown. We both have.” he swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. “And my mom…she’d be happy for you. For us.”
Katsuki stared at him, silent. The breeze ruffled his hair, and for a moment, he looked so vulnerable it made Izuku’s heart ache.
“I-I’m scared, Izuku,” Katsuki stuttered, his words cracking something open inside him. It was rare, almost unheard of for Katsuki Bakugou to let his fear show.
Izuku met his eyes, unwavering. “Me too,” he whispered.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause. The city’s hum faded to a distant murmur. The air between them felt fragile but alive.
“Which is why we’re in this together,” Izuku continued, voice steady now. “Remember?”
Katsuki looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. His hand reached up to brush away a tear that ran down Izuku’s cheek.
“Yeah,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Izuku exhaled, relief washing over him as he leaned into Katsuki’s touch. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore, it was soft, calm, and full of unspoken promises. The night wind carried the scent of rain, cool and clean.
Finally their mouths met, Izuku’s hands crawling up to Katsuki’s neck. Izuku could feel Katsuki’s calloused hands brush against his waist, drawing him closer from underneath his hoodie.
Katsuki broke the kiss, bending down to carry his lover, as if he weighed nothing. Izuku yelped playfully, his arms clinging tight around to Katsuki’s neck, a soft giggle escaping his lips.
He was quickly silenced as Katsuki dove in for another kiss, much more heated compared to the first one, for that night, with the city glowing around them and the stars just beginning to break through the clouds, that was enough.
________
The blaring alarm clock resonated throughout the room. Izuku sprang awake, startled at the sound, his eyes fluttering. He could feel the sun’s warm glow, piercing through the floor to ceiling windows, streaks of gold peaking out the creases of the sheer white curtains.
He shuffled around the bed eager to embrace his boyfriend’s broad figure, only to be met with the cold sheets on the right side of the bed. His eyes finally perked wide open, confused from the loss of warmth. Izuku sat upright, kneading at his eyes.
Muffled footsteps approached from the open bedroom door. Making out the figure that stood in front of him, Izuku stared, dumbfounded.
Emerald eyes widened from shock as he realized what he was looking at. Katsuki stood by the door, a large bouquet of roses, encased in fancy black wrapping paper, a tiny note attached to it.
Izuku could feel his eyes water at the sight, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
“Kacchan…” He whispers.
Katsuki walked through the doorframe, carrying the bouquet in his hands, a warm smile on his face, only for Izuku to see. Dressed in nothing but gray sweatpants, unkept hair, and deep circles under his eyes, he approached Izuku by the bedside, settling on the edge.
His crimson eyes met Izuku’s, nothing but love and devotion came through his gaze.
“Happy anniversary, Izuku.”
The green haired man could not contain his happiness. Cupping Katsuki’s face with his hands. Quickly, he brought them close, sealing their lips tight. Katsuki laid a hand on Izuku’s hip, lowering the bouquet to rest calmly on the white sheets.
Now, Izuku was straddling Katsuki’s lap. The blonde thumbed at the thick muscles on Izuku’s back, their chests touching, skin-to-skin, the warmth of their embrace was incomparable to anything they’d ever felt.
He could feel Katsuki peck at the corners of his lips as he moved to the center, licking away at his bottom lip. Izuku’s eyes flutter closed as he allows Katsuki’s tongue to enter his mouth. Izuku pulls away slightly, chuckling, as Katsuki too has a laugh, silencing him once more with a soft peck on his cheek.
“Happy anniversary, Kacchan.” Izuku echoes.
He can’t help but admire Katsuki’s gleaming eyes, even more stunning in the sun. The usually deep crimson was now a handsome scarlet, illuminated by the light.
Before Izuku could say any more, Katsuki beat him to it.
“You’re such a crybaby you know that?” he teases, kissing the corner of Izuku’s eye.
Izuku scoffed, slapping Katsuki’s shoulder lightly.
“I’m not a crybaby." he frowns yet a smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m your baby.”
“Damn right.” Katsuki snorted.
Izuku’s eyes wander to the flowers resting on the white sheets. A familiar red, meeting him once more. He turns to the side picking up the bouquet, beaming at the flowers in front of him.
“Thank you, Kacchan.” Izuku smiled, admiring the flowers.
“I also might’ve ordered you those macarons you really like.” Katsuki adds, musingly.
“You didn’t.”
“Yes I did.”
Izuku couldn’t contain his joy anymore, he couldn’t think of any more ways this day could go on nicer.
“I love you so much!” he beams, throwing the flowers back on the bed as he pounced on Katsuki.
Before Izuku could lean in for another kiss, the ring of the doorbell echoes through the hallway, reaching their bedroom.
“Those must be your precious macarons right now.” Katsuki grins.
A soft giggle escapes Izuku, finally getting up as he reaches for the robe that was nicely folded on top of the bedside table.
Another ring is heard,
What an impatient delivery man, Izuku thinks, making his way into the hallway.
Izuku strolls along the wooden floors, grabbing a pen on the way, in case he needed to sign anything.
As he opened the door, an unexpected sight was in front of him. Izuku is left in absolute horror as he comes to realize just who he was looking at right now.
Inko and Mitsuki stood at the front door, just as confused as he was.
“Izuku? What in the world are you doing h-” Mitsuki starts as she is cut off when she sees the purple and red bruises that trailed along Izuku’s neck.
“I-isn’t this Katsuki’s apartment?” Inko asks, looking up at the green haired man.
His lips quiver, unable to utter a single word. Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the apartment, slowly approaching Izuku from behind.
“‘Get the food yet, baby?” Katsuki asks.
“BABY!?” Both women question in unison.
Just what exactly was going on here?