Chapter Text
Trigger Warning: Mentions of going no-contact with narcissistic, abusive parents.
Unconditional
“Oi, Deku! Hurry up! Let us in!”
Despite the volume of his voice, Katsuki’s knuckles wrapped against the outside of the Midoriya’s door at a perfectly respectful decibel.
“Keep your pants on Kacchan!”
Eijiro slid his palm across Katsuki’s fingers and squeezed gently. Katsuki glanced over at Eijiro and squeezed back. Even when his cheeks started to glow pink, he didn’t let go of Eijiro’s hand. The happiness bubbling up inside Eijiro’s chest made it impossible not to grin.
They were really going to do it. Katsuki and he were going to officially come out as a couple to Inko Midoriya, the most important maternal figure in Katsuki’s life since he’d gone no-contact with Mitsuki and Masaru.
The muffled thump of hurried feet preluded the appearance of Midoriya-san’s flour-smudged face as he opened the door to welcome them inside.
“Hi Kacchan! Hi, Kirishima-san!” Midoriya-san’s grin was bright, and his joy was as infectious as always. “Please come in.”
Katsuki stepped inside and poked one of the flour spots on Midoriya-san’s cheeks, frowning. “You started cooking without me?”
“You do know you’re a guest, right?” Midoriya-san stepped back to make room for them to put on house slippers. “You don’t have to cook.”
“Like hell, I’m going to let fucking Iida-san mess everything up! Does he even know where the best saucepan is?”
“I was helping prep too, you know.” Midoriya-san’s smile was fond and affectionate, not the slightest bit offended by Katsuki’s rough edges.
“Yeah, well, you’re clumsy, but you finally learned to listen.”
Midoriya-san chuckled and shared a knowing glance with Eijiro-san. “Just because Tenya has an opinion, doesn’t make him wrong.”
“Like, hell it doesn’t!” Katsuki strode through the Midoriya home as if he lived there. In many ways, he had grown up in this home more than his own.
“Is that my Katsuki?”
Katsuki paused, arm half extended towards the kitchen, and turned to greet Inko-san with a soft, almost reluctant smile. “Hello, Auntie Inko. Let me get those for you.” Katsuki reached for the vegetables Inko-san held bundled in her arms as she stepped inside from her balcony garden.
“Not until I get a hug,” Inko-san insisted. She spread her arms wide and encompassed both Katsuki and the vegetables in a tight squeeze. Eijiro knew, intimately, that Katsuki was in peak athletic condition—they were all pro-heroes now and they had to be—but Inko-san still managed to squeeze a grunt of air out of Katsuki’s lungs.
Katsuki’s smile widened and he hugged Inko-san back with enough force to lift her off her feet. She squealed and chuckled. “You’re stronger every time I see you!”
“I have to be if I’m going to take the number one hero slot from Deku.”
“In your dreams, Kacchan!” Midoriya-san grinned. “Now put mom down before you break her.”
“Auntie Inko is tougher than she looks,” Katsuki insisted, but he set Inko-san on her feat just as delicately as he’d lifted her, and took possession of the vegetables as he pulled back. “Curry rice tonight?”
Inko-san nodded and reached up to cup Katsuki’s cheek. “Exactly! You know me so well.”
Katsuki nodded. “I’ll get on it. Assuming Iida-san hasn’t made a mess of your kitchen.”
“Tenya has been very respectful,” Inko-san promised, before turning her attention to Eijirio. “Kirishima-san! It’s so good to see you!”
Katsuki stepped into the kitchen with a quick wave, plucking a yellow apron off the hook on the wall as he went.
Eijrio leaned down to embrace Inko-san, bracing for the pressure he knew would squeeze the breath from his lungs as well.
“How have you been?” Inko-san asked, her voice bright and energetic, like her son’s. “How is Amajiki-san? You still work together, right?”
Eijiro nodded. “Yes, Inko-san. Amajiki-san is doing great. He navigated last week’s press conference without a panic attack. I’m pretty sure Togata-san promised him a couch date that would last all weekend to celebrate.”
“I saw that conference,” Inko-san replied, leading Eijiro deeper into her living room. “It’s so good to see him embracing his confidence.”
“He’s worked really hard,” Eijiro agreed. “We’re all really proud of him.”
Inko-san settled onto her sofa and patted the seat beside her, encouraging Eijiro to settle there. “And how have you been, Kirishima-san?”
I wish you would call me Eijiro.
When Midoriya-san had announced he was moving in with Iida-san, Inko-san had, undoubtedly with permission, started calling him by his first name, just like Katsuki and her son. It meant they were family, and Eijiro had been itching for that kind of acknowledgment for the last 18 months.
But it wouldn’t be right to rush Katsuki, or Inko-san. This mattered too much to mess up, and Eijiro wanted to do everything right. He would earn that privilege eventually.
“I’ve been good, Inko-san,” Eijiro grinned. “I feel like I’m finally settling into being a Pro instead of just a student or sidekick.”
The friendly warmth in Inko-san’s eyes hardened to flint. “They asked entirely too much of you when you were still children.”
“It was war, Mom.” Deku stepped up beside his mother and gripped her shoulder. “We were all just trying to survive.”
“You should have been able to be students and children,” Inko-san insisted, as if she could make it so by willing it. That was one of the things Eijiro had always liked about the Midoriyas. They both wanted good things for everyone and were willing to be the agents of change that created peace, no matter what it cost them.
“I met an amazing student on patrol yesterday,” Eijiro began, trying to draw their focus to a less painful topic. The Midoriyas weren’t the only ones who could take care of people.
Inko-san turned her eyes back to Eijiro’s face. “Oh?”
“Amajiki-san and I were patrolling the park five miles from here and we heard a commotion, not screaming, but people were bunching together and they sounded worried.”
“I think I heard about this.” Deku sat on the arm of the sofa, close to his mother. “This is the story about the kid in the tree, right?”
Eijiro nodded. “That’s right.”
“Some poor baby was stuck in a tree?” Inko-san’s fingertips brushed her lips and her green eyes flew open wide, as if the danger was here, now, and she needed to locate it.
“Well—”
“That stubborn bastard wouldn’t get out of the tree,” Katsuki called from the kitchen.
Eijiro looked over the back of the sofa at his smirking boyfriend. Katsuki was standing in the kitchen doorway, one of Inko-san’s aprons tied firmly around his waist. He held a pot in one hand and a kitchen towel in another. His scowl had never looked so cute. God, Eijiro wanted to step around the sofa and pull Katsuki into his arms. Instead, he said, “Are you telling the story, or are you cooking?”
At the same moment, Inko-san said, “Language, sweetheart.” She smiled and her tone was soft; she wasn’t mad.
Katsuki nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
That was a phenomenon and a half when Eijiro had first seen it. If anyone else tried to lecture Katsuki about language, he would only curse more. If a friend tried to correct Katsuki, he would reply with an affectionate, ‘Fuck you,’ but if a stranger tried to corral Katsuki he would snarl and put more vehemence into the words, ‘FUCK OFF!’
“You were saying, Kirishima-san?” Inko-san prompted.
“There was a kid in one of the largest trees in the park,” Eijiro continued. “When Amajiki-san and I ran over, we thought they were stuck, but they were still climbing. The crowd let us know that they had climbed up deliberately to rescue a cat that was stranded in some of the highest branches.”
“What a sweet child,” Inko-san cooed.
“They, uh,” Eijiro chuckled softly, “weren’t very friendly when we offered to help them down, even when we told them we’d also rescue the cat.”
Inko-san nodded as if she would have expected that response. “They were determined.”
Determined was one way of looking at it. Of course, Inko-san would see the virtue wrapped in single-minded stubbornness that, at the time, had reminded Eijiro very much of Katsuki. Especially when the child had started cursing, and swatting at the tentacles Amajiki-san had tried to reach towards them.
“Apparently the cat, Aiko, belonged to their family and the child, Daitan Arai, had grown up with them. Aiko had been missing for a few days and Arai-san had been looking for them when they heard Aiko meowing.”
“And they launched into action to rescue her!” Inko-san declared. “Arai-san could be a hero in training.”
Eijiro chuckled alongside Midoriya-san. “They definitely did not want to be rescued themselves. The most we could convince them to agree to, was to allow Amajiki-san to spot them in case they needed backup.”
“Did everyone get to the ground safely?” Inko-san asked.
Eijiro nodded. “And then we got a lecture from the kid for slowing them down.”
Inko-san beamed. “I like their fighting spirit!”
“I asked for a fucking saucepan, not a Goddamn frying pan!” Katsuki’s voice resounded from the kitchen. “This will splatter curry everywhere!”
Eijiro turned and spotted Iida-san’s chagrined profile. He bowed and murmured, “I apologize, Bakugou-san. I’m used to cooking for two and I grabbed this pan out of habit.”
“Auntie Inko doesn’t deserve a wrecked kitchen.”
“It’s alright, Katsuki,” Inko-san called out. “I’ve made a mess or two in the kitchen before. It’s part of the process, and I don’t mind cleaning.”
“You don’t have to wash dishes tonight,” Katsuki insisted. “I’m here.”
Eijiro picked up the notes of tenderness in Katsuki’s tense insistence and felt his heart squeeze in response. Katsuki loved taking care of people, especially those he was close to. That guarded warmth was one of the aspects of Katsuki’s personality which had drawn Eijiro in when they were still in school together. When he’d found out why Katsuki was so guarded, found out that Mitsuki had ground some of those sharp edges into her son, Eijiro had wanted to be someone Katsuki felt safe being vulnerable around; someone who he would let take care of him for a change.
“We can wash up together,” Inko-san countered. It wasn’t a proposition so much as a proclamation. “I appreciate the way you look after me, and you deserve to enjoy the evening with your friends without taking on the responsibilities of host.”
“But—”
“Unless you don’t want to spend time catching up while we wash up,” Inko-san continued, encouragingly. “If you’d rather spend more time talking with your friends, you’re allowed.”
“We’re washing up together,” Katsuki insisted, his frown wavering like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to deepen or disappear entirely.
Inko-san nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I look forward to it.”
The doorbell sounded again, and Inko-san stood, almost hopping up onto her feet. “Be right there!”
Sero-san’s bright smile was nestled just above a truly giant bouquet of Sunflowers. “Hello, Midoriya-san! Thank you so much for inviting us!”
“Sero-san, these are lovely,” Inko-san cooed, accepting the flowers as he held them out to her. “And please call me Inko-san.”
“Thank you, Inko-san.” Sero-san leaned in, accepting the firm hug Inko-san bestowed upon him with only a slight grunt. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, Sero-san!” Inko-san cooed. “I always see you and your classmates working so hard on the news.”
“We do our best,” Todoroki-san promised; he was standing a few steps behind Sero-san with his own bouquet of blue and purple irises.
“Todoroki-san! Thank you!” Inko-san beamed as she opened her arms and let Todoroki nestle his bouquet in beside Sero-san’s. “You heroes are going to spoil me!”
“You deserve it, mom,” Midoriya-san called out. He hopped off the arm of the sofa and pulled down a large vase from a decorative hutch along one of the living room walls.
“I don’t know about that,” Inko-san murmured, tracing the delicate petals with her fingertips. “I just try my best, like all of you.” She lifted her gaze back to Todoroki-san’s cool features. “May I hug you, too?”
Warmth blossomed in Eijiro’s chest as he watched the exchange. At first glance, most people might assume Inko-san would hug people regardless of their boundaries, but communication and consent were very important both to her and her son; Eijiro had seen proof of that since was back at UA.
Todoroki-san lifted one arm to grab his opposite elbow, creating a tightly corded barrier of muscle across his torso. “The flowers should be put in water.”
Inko-san nodded and took a step back, her smile never wavered. “Of course.” She took a few steps towards the table where Midoriya-san had left the vase. “Would you like any water? Snacks? Katsuki and Tenya are busy in the kitchen making dinner. I think we’ll be eating in about twenty minutes.”
“No thank you,” Todoroki-san bowed low, overly formal as always. “I’m fine.”
“Do you think I can grab a drink of water without setting off World War Three?” Sero-san asked, peering around the kitchen doorway. “I don’t want to get in their way.”
Midoriya-san chuckled and clapped Sero-san on the shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he declared, darting into the kitchen. Katsuki blustered, but there was no real heat behind it, even after Midoriya-san blew a raspberry at him.
It made Eijiro irrationally proud to watch the relaxed focus on Katsuki’s face, barely disturbed by Midoriya-san’s temporary intrusion. Katsuki was still very hard on himself, and sometimes others, remnants of Mitsuki’s voice in his head, but every day it was increasingly rare that Katsuki’s anxiety spilled over into true aggression.
“Here you go,” Midoriya-san said, passing a glass of water to Sero-san. He’d grabbed the water pitcher and several other glasses while he’d been in the kitchen.
“Thanks man,” Sero-san replied. He lifted the glass to take a long sip before turning back towards Todoroki-san. “Are you sure you don’t want a sip, babe?”
Todoroki-san’s eyes flashed wide and he glanced nervously around the room.
“Shit, sorry,” Sero-san’s words were low and muffled, but Eijiro could still just barely make them out. “I wasn’t thinking.”
It was very subtle, but Eijiro could still make out the way Todoroki-san’s breath stuttered in his lungs. His stillness no longer seemed a reflection of his reserved personality; there was a patina of fear now.
“Hey, Sho,” Sero-san whispered. He hovered close to Todoroki-san, but stopped short of touching him. Eijiro tried not to listen but so many hours of hero training were impossible to ignore. “Inko-san isn’t him,” Sero-san continued. “You’re safe here no matter who you love, or how you identify.”
“How is Enji, Todoroki-san?” Inko-san asked, casually arranging her flowers in the vase in front of her. “I have oleander in the garden about to come into full bloom. I’ve heard it makes a once-in-a-lifetime tea.”
“Mother!” Midoriya-san sputtered. “You cannot casually threaten murder on a Sunday afternoon!”
Inko-san’s warm smile was placid and, if Eijiro didn’t know better, innocent. “I don’t know what you mean, dear.”
A huff that might have been tinged with amusement escaped Todoroki-san’s mouth and he slotted his hands against Sero-san’s. Todoroki-sans hands were lifted and squeezed close to Sero-san’s chest. They’d moved close, foreheads almost brushing and Sero-san was starting to whisper something that was definitely none of Eijiro’s business.
Eijiro shifted towards a flush-faced Midoriya-san in an attempt to give his friends some privacy. “Your mom’s pretty badass, Midoriya-san.”
Midoriya-san chuckled through splayed fingers and dragged his hands down his face. “Yeah, she is. She means it too.”
“Of course, I do,” Inko-san chimed in, still blithely trimming and placing flowers. “Everyone deserves safety and acceptance, especially children. If that can’t be offered without reservation, one shouldn’t have children.”
Eijiro grinned and leaned a bit closer to Midoriya-san so he could stage whisper, “Am I the only one picturing her putting the League of Villains in time-out?”
Midoriya-san snickered. “She would! God, can you picture Shigaraki in time out?”
Eijiro’s chest shook with mirth. “Or getting a lesson in manners?”
Midoriya-san grinned, glanced across the room to Todoroki-san and Sero-san, then dropped his voice to the barest whisper. “I’ve kind of been waiting for the day she walks up to Endeavor and blows his flames out.”
Helpless laughter burst out of Eijiro’s mouth, even after he pressed his hand over his face to try to stifle the sound.
“Izuku,” Inko-san’s voice was lightly scolding. “It’s not polite to gossip when we have company.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Midoriya-san apologized immediately, but his grin was unrepentant.
“I’m sorry, Inko-san,” Eijiro echoed, fighting the buoyant joy that wanted to bubble out of his chest again. He loved visiting the Midoriya household with Katsuki for exactly this reason. Everyone was always welcome and supported with easy affection. Love soaked into every fiber of the furniture and the walls. The first time Eijiro had felt it he’d been able to let go of his lingering resentment that Katsuki had run here, and not to him, the night he’d officially gone no-contact with his parents.
“Do you need water?” Todoroki-san was standing beside Inko-san now, his neutral expression seemed a little calmer, more settled.
Inko-san glanced at the vase and chuckled. “Oh, look at that. I should have poured water in before I started arranging; silly me.” She stretched both hands towards the vase, presumably to lift it, when Todoroki stepped forward with raised hands, like he had something to say. Inko-san paused and looked up. “Yes, dear?”
“I can help.”
“That’s very sweet of you.” Inko-san smiled. “Thank you.”
Todoroki lifted both hands towards the vase, pressing them together like Ashido-san did when she was about to fire her acid spray. A moment later water poured between his fingers, quickly filling the vase.
“Oh!” Inko-san beamed at Todorki-san. “Thank you! That’s so clever.”
“You’re welcome,” Todoroki-san murmured, looking down and to the side. For someone who was one of the top five heroes, he never did seem to enjoy too much attention.
Eijiro started to turn back to Midoriya-san, and Sero-san, who had joined them, trying to take some of the pressure off Todoroki-san. Eijiro still saw Todoroki lean forward and murmur something to Inko-san in his peripheral vision. A moment later Inko-san stepped close and enveloped Todoroki-san in the warmest looking bear-hug. She whispered, but Eijiro still heard, “You’re amazing, okay? Don’t let anyone else tell you differently.”
Something tight twisted in Eijiro’s chest and he blinked rapidly to dispel the burning sensation behind his eyes. It was wonderful to see Inko-san in her element. Her son’s mission had always been to be the number one hero, but her mission seemed to be loving people. She wasn’t perfect—Eijiro had seen her lose her temper, and had heard childhood stories from Midoriya-san and Katsuki about some laughably human moments—but she tried and she owned her mistakes, something Mitsuki had never been able to do.
Eijiro took a breath, trying to shake off his earlier discontent. Inko-san didn’t need to call him Eijiro for him to be welcome here. Maybe she would, after tonight. After Katsuki told her what Eijiro meant to him, but it wouldn’t change the way Inko-san treated him. She welcomed everyone who was special to her son, and her unofficially adopted son, without reservation.
Something in the kitchen clattered and Katsuki cursed. “Watch where you’re fucking going!”
“I slipped, Bakugou-san.” Iida-san’s reply was calm and even, like he could read the nerves that fueled Katsuki’s temper today. He always wanted to make everything perfect when he cooked for Inko-san, today probably even more so.
“Yeah, well you’re not hurt, are you?” Katsuki’s tone was sharp and irritated, but Eijiro heard the live translation in his head: Are you alright?
“No, I’m fine.” It was easy to hear the smile in Iida-san’s voice, even though Eijiro couldn’t see him.
“Then be careful so you don’t slip again, dumbass!” I don’t want you to be hurt.
Spikey blonde hair preluded Katsuki’s appearance in the kitchen doorway. He was scanning the workspace in the kitchen, probably calculating the timing of everything in his head. The yellow of Inko-san’s apron bled orange in the light of the setting sun. Eijiro sighed, awash in contentment, and love for this amazing, thoughtful, passionate man.
Red eyes focused on Eijiro’s face and Katsuki’s frown deepened. “What are you looking at?”
“You.” The word fell from Eijiro’s mouth, honey-thick with every besotted emotion.
Katsuki scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the way his cheeks pinked up under Eijiro’s gaze. “Do something fucking useful. Set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Eijiro stood from the couch feeling light, happy, and very much in love. “As you wish.”
~*~*~*~
Dinner was equal parts rowdy and nostalgic. It had been years since they’d shared dorms together at UA, and dinners like this, which were small by comparison, were monthly or bi-monthly at best. Eijrio still loved every second of them. Being so busy with their own lives always meant they had plenty to talk about whenever any of them could find the time to meet up.
Katsuki’s cooking was, of course, delicious and Eijiro was achingly aware of the gentle press of Katsuki’s body beside him while they ate. He kept dropping one hand into his lap, below the table line, in case Katsuki wanted to hold hands for comfort or reassurance, but Katsuki never took him up on it. Eijiro could read the subtle signs of nerves in the tight lines around Katsuki’s mouth and eyes. He wanted, so badly, to smooth them away, but refused to betray Katsuki’s trust by taking such overtly affectionate action.
Katsuki was extremely reserved about what mattered to him. Eijiro and Katsuki weren’t even out as a couple to anyone from UA, although Eijiro suspected many of them knew anyway. Maybe after tonight, Eijiro wouldn’t have to squash the impulse to hold Katsuki’s hand when they were among friends. …Maybe.
Every time the conversation lulled Eijiro’s breath slowed until he was almost holding it, but the brief silences were filled with satisfied sighs or smiles, and not the words Eijiro had helped Katsuki rehearse, over and over again, at Katsuki’s request. Maybe dinner was the wrong time. Maybe Katsuki was waiting for a moment when he could talk to Inko-san quietly. It was probably too much pressure, even in their small group, to announce it to everyone at once.
Katsuki had talked about telling Inko-san specifically, and that had felt more momentous than if Katsuki had asked to shout his declaration from the rooftops, because Inko-san was important to him. For a long time, years before Katsuki finally went no-contact with Mitsuki, Inko-san had been and still was the closest person Katsuki had to a mother.
Eijiro ate, drank tea, and breathed through his own anxiety and expectations until it was time for after-dinner games. This was another tradition that had sprung up around reunion dinners, no matter who could or couldn’t attend; there was always a game or a movie after dinner, sometimes both. These add-ons were a blatant attempt to stretch out the time before they had to say goodbye again, and Eijiro normally embraced them with gusto, but today… today he felt off.
He couldn’t get out of his head, even after Midoriya-san suggested they play an at-home Exit Game. Normally the Exit Games, something like an escape room in a box, were Eijiro’s favorite. He wasn’t the best at puzzle solving, but working together with everyone felt like they were back on a low-stakes training mission at UA, each person prompting the next to think of something unexpected that worked better than expected.
The particular Exit Game Midoriya-san pulled out was pirate themed, which evoked a slew of bad accents and corny jokes, that genuinely made Eijiro chuckle, but he didn’t join in. He bent over the clues that were passed his way and did his best to soldier on. He searched for patterns and stared at clues hoping for something to jump out and latch on. It didn’t work. Everything he thought he saw as a spark, something someone else might be able to connect with and pull everything together, seemed to suck everyone deep into the muck with him.
Eijiro took a breather to refresh water and tea, hoping his absence would help everyone find their rhythm again. No such luck. When he came back Midoriya-san was leaning his face into his hands like he was trying to block out their abysmal failure, Iida-san was rubbing his back, Sero-san was leaning back in his chair so his face was tipped up towards the ceiling, and Todoroki-san was staring hard at a translucent plastic toy cut and colored to look like a ruby, passing it over each clue with frayed determination.
“Read the stupid X and O clue again,” Katsuki demanded, eyes laser focused with the same determination Eijiro saw him display in hero work.
Inko-san picked up the clue card and read aloud in a calm, clear voice, “Fold to the line and no further, as if you were preparing to send a message in a bottle.”
“I’ve folded this stupid piece of paper into every shape imaginable!” Midoriya-san groused, flapping a much-abused rectangle with a parchment-colored background depicting bright purple X’s and sharp red O’s, some of which were half circles of distorted ‘S’ curves.
“For fucks, sake!” Katsuki snapped. “You don’t fold a message in a bottle!”
“Yelling won’t help you solve the clue,” Inko-san replied, still calm and steady. She even paused to smile and murmur her thanks when Eijiro deposited her refilled drink. “If this game isn’t clicking right now we can walk away and come back to it later, or give it up as not a good fit for our skill set.” Inko-san gestured to others at the table who were, in that moment, the picture of defeat.
“I’m not a quitter!” Katsuki insisted. A vein near his temple started to throb in a way that made Eijiro worry Katsuki was about to give himself a tension headache.
“I never said you were.” Inko-san’s smile was soft and encouraging; she knew as well as Eijiro, maybe better, how much Mitsuki’s impossible demands still haunted Katsuki’s consciousness. “I’m saying that your happiness is more important than perfection.” She turned her hand over on the table, palm up, and held it out towards Katsuki, an offer, not a demand. “Perfect is a made-up concept anyway. It’s important to me that you relax and have fun. Your well-being matters so much more than any measure of performance, Katsuki.”
Eijiro was almost standing close enough to feel the slow expansion of Katsuki’s ribs as he drew in his next breath, then another, then another. Each breath was slower than the one that preceded it. No one at the table commented, or even shifted position. They all seemed to be taking a moment to rest, in their own way. Eijiro kept his vigil, afraid to sit down and break Katsuki’s concentration, until Katsuki reached for Inko-san’s hand and squeezed it.
“Izuku, please pass me the paper.”
“Sure thing, Kacchan.” Izuku slid the crumpled mess across the table with a tired smile. “What are you thinking?”
Katsuki smoothed the paper rectangle as best as he could and slowly curled the edges until it rolled into a cylinder. Katsuki tightened the curl until the long edge of the tube rested cleanly on the thin black line that slashed across the middle of the paper. He stared at it for a moment, still breathing slowly, then announced, “Eight, six, two.”
Eijiro could see the numbers clearly, revealed right at the edge of the line, and knew it was the right answer even before Midoriya-san spun the decoder disc, pulled the indicated card, and cheered with renewed energy.
“Kacchan! You’re a genius!”
Katsuki smirked, looking so much more relaxed than a few moments ago. “Yeah, well try to keep up. I can’t do all the work here.”
“Hey! Guys! I see the number in the pirate art!” That was Sero-san. Apparently, at some point, he’d lifted the pirate art up to stare at it and the change of angle revealed the hidden clue.
“I also found something on the game box,” Shouto offered, pointing to his discovery. “I’m not sure if it’s indicating a pattern for the next code, or if it’s just a misprint in the artwork.”
“The game box!” Midoriya-san cried, thumping his own forehead. “Why do I always forget the game box is a piece too?!”
“We’ve had several important breakthroughs,” Iida-san cut in, chopping the air in front of him for emphasis. “Let’s organize our findings and take this one task at a time so we don’t muddle the clues.”
Eijiro grinned, basking in the renewed energy of his friends. His gaze slipped back, as it often did, to Katsuki’s beautiful face. Crimson eyes were narrowed, bent over on the clues they hadn’t cracked yet. Lines of concentration framed his face, but they didn’t bunch with headache-inducing tension as his previous frustration had.
Katsuki must have felt Eijiro staring, because his eyes lifted until they met Eijiro’s. “What?”
“You’re brilliant.” The warmth of his joy made Eijiro’s voice soft and full of honey.
Pink flushed across Katsuki’s cheeks and up his neck, making it impossible not to grin back at him.
“Shut up,” Katsuki muttered, fidgeting in his seat. “Focus on your clues.”
Eijiro picked up the card in front of him and tried to focus through the glow of happiness that made him feel loose-limbed and sappy.
~*~*~*~
Two hours later, after they’d soundly beaten the exit game and settled in for ice cream and a Pixar movie, Eijiro began rounding up empty cups and spoons so that he could run them back to the kitchen to help Inko-san with dishes.
There were maybe twenty minutes left in the movie, and there had been no coming out that Eijiro was aware of. Katsuki had stepped away from the movie about an fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t returned. No one had remarked on it because it wasn’t unusual for Katsuki to slip into the guest room to sleep when reunion dinners at Inko-san’s home ran late. He was much more of a morning bird than a night owl, even when he didn’t have patrols the next day.
The evening was almost over, and they still weren’t out…but that was okay. If Katsuki wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready.
Eijiro tried not to hope that Katsuki would talk to Inko-san in the morning. There was a decent chance the others would stay too. Even if they didn’t, that didn’t erase the ghosts of hateful voices that haunted the dark corners of Katsuki’s mind and made him doubt himself. Eijiro would not contribute any energy to the message that Katsuki wasn’t enough, exactly as he was.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
Eijiro glanced around, expecting to find Inko-san suddenly beside or behind him, but he only saw the soft, warm lighting of her home, turned down just dim enough to allow everyone to see the movie and bright enough to make sure there would be no inadvertent tripping hazards.
A jagged breath pulled Eijiro’s attention back to the kitchen. He wasn’t quite at the doorway yet, but if he leaned to the side and tilted his head, he could just barely see the dining nook, and the figures sitting on the padded bench seats beside the window. It was Inko-san and Katsuki.
Shit!
Was the outing…confession…announcement…was it happening now? Was something wrong? Should Eijiro step into the kitchen, or would he be intruding? Katsuki’s face was tight and pinched. He was staring at the tabletop between two clenched fists, and his breathing was pretty shaky. He was flushed, but not the bright red that usually preceded very reluctant tears.
Eijiro’s heart ached for Katsuki and beat against the cage of Eijiro’s ribs as if that was the fastest way to get closer to the struggling blond.
Inko-san unfurled both hands, palm up, just a few inches from Katsuki. She was brilliant at this; offering support that limited the risk of adding to overstimulation. It wasn’t something Eijiro had perfected until the middle of their second year at UA, both because of his default modes of physical affection, and the fact that Katsuki valued Eijiro’s friendship so much he hadn’t wanted to risk pushing him away. It had taken several tense conversations and three almost fights for them to start to find their equilibrium in communication and boundaries.
“I will always love you, Katsuki,” Inko-san murmured. “Nothing you could ever say will change that.”
Katsuki scoffed and the sound was so hard it rocked both his shoulders. “So, what? You’d just aid and abet me if I became a villain?”
“Everyone needs to be accountable for their actions.” Inko-san’s voice was firm, but her face was soft and brushed with amusement, as if she knew bone deep that Katsuki’s anxiety was making him hyperbolic. “I’d still love you. I’d support you going to therapy—”
“I’m already in therapy.” Katsuki’s voice was flat and tired.
“More therapy, then,” Inko-san replied, not sounding the slightest bit deterred. “Maybe family therapy.” She took a breath and her voice softened and warmed like the gentle glow from the dim lights in her living room. “I’d try to understand what pain or confusion pushed you away from me.” Silence closed around the moment, but it felt more like the comforting weight of a plush blanket than anything awkward.
Katsuki couldn’t seem to feel the comfort Eijiro saw projected towards him. His normally firm jaw trembled. His cheeks paled until the delicate skin under his eyes started to look bruised. Katsuki looked…scared, withdrawn, like he was falling in on himself rather than risk an ounce of Inko-san’s affection, because the thought of living without it was too painful to contemplate.
Eijiro leaned forward, ready to step into the kitchen and kneel at Katsuki’s feet until whatever inner demon he was fighting felt less overwhelming, when Inko-san spoke again.
“Or I’d help you take down a corrupt hero commission again.” Inko-san shrugged. “It really depends on the details.”
A startled laugh jumped out of Katsuki’s chest, immediately lighting the dark shadows that had started to roost in the hallows of his face. “You are something else,” Katsuki’s voice was hoarse with layers of emotion, but he was finally looking at Inko-san, finally accepting her offer of comfort when he slid his hands into hers and squeezed.
Inko-san curled her fingers around Katsuki’s palms and squeezed back. “You have such a lovely smile, Katsuki.”
Katsuki shrugged like he couldn’t quite absorb the compliment. “Thanks.” Another moment of silence passed, but then, Katsuki pulled air into his lungs until his ribs expanded and his shoulders pulled back. He was sitting straight and tall, looking directly at Inko-san with a vulnerable determination. “I’m in love with Eijiro.”
Air whooshed out of Eijiro’s chest as if Katsuki’s declaration had struck him. In a way, it had. He’d known this would be hard for Katsuki, who was normally so reserved with anything that really mattered to him, but Eijiro had just seen a taste of how much Katsuki had to confront to be able to speak his truth, and he’d done it anyway.
Katsuki’s fingers squeezed Inko-san’s hands until his knuckled bled white, but neither of them complained. “He’s amazing, Auntie.” Warmed glowed through Katsuki’s cheeks. “He’s kind, and thoughtful, and funny. He sees through all my bullshit, and helps me feel safe.” Katsuki’s eyes were bright with an expression Eijiro had only previously seen in the privacy of their shared home. “He sat up with me so many nights after I went no contact and couldn’t sleep, telling the stupidest fucking jokes and stories, just to make me laugh.” The warmth of Katsuki’s shy smile felt palpable, even half crouched behind the edge of the doorway. “We’ve been dating for almost two years, living together for the past eight months, and… I love him.”
Eijiro had to remind himself he was, in fact, holding several glasses that would definitely shatter if he squeezed them too tightly. “I love you too…” It was barely even a whisper, but it was all that could push past the swell of emotions rising in Eijiro’s chest.
“That’s wonderful, Katsuki!” Inko-san enthused, their joined hands vibrating with her excitement. “Congratulations!” Inko-san’s joy was exuberant and without reservation.
The color in Katsuki’s cheeks darkened and he shifted in his seat. “Thank you.” He took a breath that did nothing to dull the blush which had now spread to his neck and what could be seen of his chest above the collar of his shirt. “Thank you for listening.”
“Oh, sweetheart, thank you for telling me.” Inko-san sniffed, and Eijiro knew without seeing her face that she was tearing up. His own eyes were burning fiercely, despite his rapid blinking. “Can I give you a hug?” Inko-san asked.
Katsuki nodded, one, sharp, vehement movement. They stood together, stepped around the kitchen table, and fell into each other’s arms. Katsuki squeezed Inko-san so close her toes almost lifted off the floor, but she seemed to hold him back just as fiercely.
Eijiro’s chest was so tight and full it was a little hard to breathe, and he was going to start sniffling too any moment. God, he could stay here, he shouldn’t have intruded on this moment, but if he retreated back to the sofa the others would ask him why he still had their ice cream glasses, and why he’d taken too long. Maybe they’d be asleep? It wouldn’t be the first time a reunion dinner became an impromptu sleepover. Or maybe he could step back far enough to arrange the glasses on the dining room table, and when Katsuki came out of the kitchen, assuming he didn’t grouse about the mess, Eijiro could—
“You can come out now,” Katsuki murmured, pulling his head up from the crook of Inko-san’s shoulder. “I know you’re there, Ei.”
Eijiro flinched back, his body belatedly trying to slink away.
Katsuki’s expression hardened into something more insistent than vulnerable. “I can see you, Ei, and I want you here. Please come in.”
“I’m sorry.” Eijiro peeked back around the doorway, creeping into the room, because it still felt like he was intruding. “I didn’t mean to overhear.”
“Yeah, well, I’m glad you did.” Katsuki took the glasses from Eijiro’s hands and set them on the kitchen table. “I almost didn’t say what I came here to say, but then I saw you, and it was easier.”
“I didn’t mean to pressure you, Kat. I—”
Eijiro’s would-be apology died on his lips when the weight of Katsuki’s arms settled around his waist. “You didn’t,” Katsuki murmured, leaning forward until his forehead brushed Eijiro’s. “I know you’ve always got my back, Eij.”
“Always,” Eijiro promised, moments before Katsuki brought their lips together, sealing the declaration with a kiss. It wasn’t a steamy embrace, but it was passionate and powerful; it lingered. Eijiro’s head reeled and his lips tingled when Katsuki eased back. “Wow…”
Something clinked nearby and Eijiro turned to see Inko-san closing the dishwasher. Fresh heat immediately flooded his cheeks. They’d been busy long enough for her to clean up the last of the dishes?!
Inko-san leaned against the counter and smiled, not seeming the slightest bit embarrassed. “Is it too soon for me to call you Eijiro?”
Eijiro blinked, then blinked again, trying, ineffectually, to stifle a swell of tears. “I’d like that.”
“Thank you for being there for my Katsuki, Eijiro.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Eijiro sniffled, and turned to look at Katsuki again. Tears glistened in lovely crimson eyes, and Katsuki leaned into Eijiro’s palm when he lifted rough fingers to wipe away the tear tracks. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Katsuki’s voice with hoarse with emotion, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along the column of his throat. “I love you so fucking much.” Their mouths met again in an extension of their words. They’d both been crying. It was messy, salty, breathless, and everything Eijiro needed.